Disclaimer: Violence and dark themes.

Judicial review in the Southern Isles was like a balanced scale. Retribution for the victim. A cruel change in reality for the punished.

Hans had experienced neither.

It was hard to discern whether he was the victim or the perpetrator.

But it was less likely the latter as his reality had demonstrated a cruelness far before his punishment.

It was sick.

Comical even.

And in his eyes, any further punishment to add on to his problems was unwarranted.

Perhaps he had been overzealous.

Perhaps attempting to murder a kingdom's Queen and Princess would be seen by most as inhumane.

But they were blind, no one understood. No one understood what it meant to be the thirteenth son of King Arrius of the Southern Isles.

No one could ever come close to understanding twenty three years of hiding behind the shadows of irrelevance.

Every action to seek some form of approval from the only sad excuse of a parental figure in his life, attributing to nothing but mere glances of contempt to acknowledge that he was even there to begin with.

It boiled under his skin. It had transformed into a frustrating sense of inferiority that had led him to leave his home.

That had ultimately led to his downfall.

The two sisters of the Kingdom of Arendelle would be the reason for that.

Oh how he envied them. A life of love. An unbreakable bond. A bond so strong that had one sister succumb to emptiness at the notion of the other's death, and had the other rushing in to protect the former from his sword.

It was beautiful.

And it enraged him.

How desperately he wished to break that bond.

To unravel the cruel nature of the world in front of them. How badly he wanted them to feel the helplessness that had been all but everything in his life.

And now he would never be able to.

The last image he saw of them would forever be ingrained in his mind.

Love, stronger than any pair of lovers.

An embrace that practically mocked him of his existence.

It haunted him.

It haunted him the entire way back to his dreaded home.

Hans had expected many forms of punishment. Going as far as to believe that execution would be what would face him when he arrived back in the Southern Isles. He feared death, as anyone else would. And he knew that the King would not have batted an eye to see him gone from the world.

But in a way, Hans found slight solace in the possibility of finally being freed. Freed from this forsaken life.

His punishment was far from that, however. A mere three year sentence.

Not in the castle dungeons.

But cleaning the royal stables of its manure…

Hans had laughed when he had received the verdict. It would be logical to feel relieved. Be thankful that neither his title nor his residence in the castle had been stripped from him.

But what followed proved that his punishment was far more cruel. That the King had not spared him even the slightest mercy.

That he knew that this would be the result of his punishment.

The hurtful words from his brothers. The sneers of disrespect from visiting royals. It ate away at his pride like parasites.

Even Lars, the one sibling who he had been able to confide in growing up…

Just watched.

If plowing through manure wasn't already demeaning enough, Caleb, Rudi, and Runo were throwing rocks at him during the chore.

It didn't hurt physically. Their aim was far too off for the rocks to hit. But the stench of ordure staining his body combined with the hurtful remarks that could not be blocked out from his mind stabbed at his ego intensely.

Hans whipped around at them seething with anger, prepared to implant his fists into their disgustingly snide faces.

His hands went limp once he saw Lars standing behind them.

Unlike the others, his face was neither scornful nor mocking.

Pity.

Unadulterated pity.

Not for his state of humiliation.

But pity at him.

His entire being.

His entire legacy.

And with a gut wrenching comprehension, he now understood why the king had spared him.

His title may have said that he was still a prince.

But he was far from that.

Because no matter how much his status proclaimed his position of royalty. No matter how much the King's blood flowed through his own. He would never belong.

He would have a better connection with the horses than he ever would with this damnable royal family.

His remaining pride would have to accept it.

Hans would embrace his new title.

He was the stable cleaner of the Southern Isles.

The young prince had turned away after that.

And for some reason, the jibes from his brothers no longer bothered him.

He didn't hear them.

He performed his manure scraping in silence.

A man with no place may as well have been an empty shell.

In his senseless state, the prince failed to notice a dark presence lurking in the shadows, watching him with a devilish smile.

Present Day

The castle of the Southern Isles was large. Incredibly so. An extensive amount of rooms and halls were necessary to accommodate thirteen princes as well as a sizable castle staff. It would be quite easy for any visiting guest to find themselves lost in the gargantuan structure.

That was never an issue for Hans. He knew these winding corridors like the back of his palm. And even with the consistent amount of dignitaries flowing in and out of the castle year long, today the halls seemed devoid of any other life but himself.

He had returned from the stables. Surprisingly enough, three years had passed faster than he was able to keep up with. It wasn't until a servant had informed him that today would be his last day of service that he realized that his time of punishment had reached its end.

The deadline brought no satisfaction to him. He knew that the task was merely a disguise for the true punishment hidden beneath.

He looked at himself in a mirror that hung off one of the walls he had walked past. He hardly recognized himself. His facial hair had grown to a rather unpleasant length as the past three years had brought little to know care for his appearance.

Hans realized then, that today was his birthday.

He had forgotten that birthdays were a celebratory occurrence in most people's lives, and had failed to remember the particular date for the previous two years.

He would be turning twenty six.

Twenty six...

He knew that number quite well.

It was the age when his mother had passed.

"I'm so sorry, Hans. I have to leave you...I hope you'll be able to forgive me."

It had been a while since he last thought of her.

He didn't understand why he was thinking of her now after twenty one years.

He didn't understand why he had forgotten her in the first place.

He also didn't understand why he was suddenly walking towards the dining hall.

The thought of his mother must have triggered something within him.

It was wishful thinking. Hans knew it. In the past three years, he had taken all his meals within his own chambers for the sole sake of avoiding any possible confrontation with his family members, knowing full well that mockery would be the only thing that would meet him.

He was never an optimistic person. It may have been the fact that it was his birthday, or the notion that his punishment in the stables was over, that had him in this state of deliriousness.

Or the strange, dark whisper that had seemingly snuck its way into his distraught mind.

Who are you..?

His feet carried him.

Hans opened the doors of the royal dining hall.

Eleven of his brothers were present, and his father was sitting at the furthest end of the table.

He was briefly aware of the dirt and hints of stool still staining his clothes from his time at the stables earlier. But that didn't seem to matter to him right now. It never did.

Hans sat in the seat closest to him. The seat where Lars should've been sitting. The seat on the opposite side of the King.

The seat for the crown prince.

He had no idea what he was doing. The young prince always considered himself as an intelligent person. Quick-thinking, resourceful, and extremely diligent.

What he was doing now seemed to completely contradict his own character. It was desperate, and Hans didn't realize what that desperation had grown into in his time back at the castle.

His brothers were staring at him. Some in disgust. Others in shock, very likely for his audacity to sit in Lars's seat. King Arrius adored Lars. No one ever had the guts to question the King's favoritism for the thirty five year old prince.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Lucas whispered harshly at him.

"This is the dining hall is it not? I am here to break bread with my beloved family." The sardonic words had originated in his mind, but it most certainly was not his intention for it to escape his lips.

"And you think it's appropriate for you to dine with us royalty in that state of attire?" Rudi looked at him with contempt.

Hans glared back with equal contention. "Is it appropriate for you to dine at all with your state of snobbishness?"

The third youngest reddened in anger. "You-"

"Well well, would you look at that. Little Hans thinks he's all grown up now that he's graduated from the stables." Caleb, the second oldest, sneered at his own statement.

"Must've been the trauma from standing in manure so long. It suits you, thirteen." Runo looked at him knowingly.

"You two better watch it. Or the next thing I'll be cleaning will be your dead corpses."

"What did you say-" The two older princes stood simultaneously.

"Enough!"

The King's deep voice resounded through the dining hall and brought silence amongst the bickering princes.

He then turned his cold stare directly at him.

"Hans."

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Leave." His tone was final. Exhibiting all the power that was packaged with the crown resting on his head.

"I don't think I will, father." Hans spat the last part with vehemence.

Hans knew he was angry. He had been angry his entire life. What scared him was the lack of restraint. It didn't matter how angry he was before. He was never this bold to demonstrate it.

Suddenly Arrius laughed. Not a slight chuckle, but a guffaw. The sound threw Hans off of his brief high of confidence.

The large man's eyes gleamed arrogantly. "My my, have you changed. Your time at the dumps must have served you well. You're quite welcome for that."

Hans rolled his eyes. "You should've just killed me. You'll regret keeping me alive old man." The King looked at him sharply.

"Oh, boy. Do you have any idea how much of a nuisance you are to my side? Do you really think I spared you from a heavier sentence because of love?!"

Hans didn't waver. "I am quite aware that you're nowhere near capable of harboring such a feeling."

Rather than being provoked the King simply smiled. "Then you should know that you have no right to address me as anything but 'Your Majesty', you bastard. I really should have put you away like I did with your useless mother." It was a lie, but the King cocked an eyebrow, knowing the damage that would be done by his goading.

It hit its mark. Hans sprung up furiously and sprinted over to strike the much larger man.

The guards were faster however, and the youngest prince stopped short three feet away from the King, arms restrained by three stronger pairs of hands.

"I hate you!" Hans screamed.

"Oh Hans, don't be like that." He cooed mockingly. "You and I. We are the same. All we want is to be on top. A little push to rise in the ranks at the expense of others. You are no different."

"I'll never be like you!"

Arrius grinned devilishly. "Then why is it that you try so hard to be acknowledged? Why is it that you resorted to arranging a coup for a neighboring kingdom? Did you finally come to understand that you have no place here?"

Hans continued to glare silently at the King.

The monarch chuckled. "Hans. You really are like me. But there's one thing that will always make us different."

He sneered and leaned in mere inches away from his face.

"You're weak."

Hans lunged forward, attempting to break free of the formidable grasp of the three guards restraining him, but failed to make any leeway.

"Nothing, but a bastard. That knows no better." Arrius continued to provoke the enraged prince.

"Fuck you!" Hans screamed.

"Take him away. Don't bother even trying to enter this hall again, child."

The guards dragged his struggling form out of the dining hall. All the while, his brothers laughed and jeered at his humiliating position.

He was violently tossed out of the hall. And the tall doors slammed heavily behind him.

He didn't know how long he had been walking mindlessly through the empty halls.

He didn't know what exactly he was looking for.

The whispers were becoming louder and louder, and Hans wasn't sure if his mind could contain them any longer.

Useless.

Bastard.

Weak.

Hans punched the wall next to him over and over again in frustration. It was hard enough to make his knuckles bleed, but not hard enough to block out the overwhelming anger fuming inside him.

Your mother would be rolling in her grave.

Hans felt himself tear up and crumple to his knees. Pathetic. If there was one thing that he had achieved in his life, was that he promised himself he would never cry. Never display any hint of suffering. And yet hear he was, on the verge of breaking down for his mother who had left him in this accursed castle.

Someone rounded the corner and approached him, probably notified by his previous loud punches against the wall.

"Hans..?"

The youngest prince turned to meet the familiar face behind him.

Lars.

"Hans, are you alright?" The blond haired prince reached out to help him up from his kneeled position on the floor.

Hans didn't know why the action disturbed him so immensely.

He slapped away the offered hand in disgust.

"Get away from me…" Hans whispered harshly.

"You're bleeding." Lars said with concern, taking notice of the blood dripping from his hand.

Hans's eyes flared in anger. "And now that seems to bother you? Not when I was being assaulted by rocks by my own brothers?"

"Hans…"

It was like his ability to hide his feelings had shut down. Everything had risen to the surface and Hans no longer had the capacity to conceal what laid within. Twenty one years of estrangement. Before it Lars had been the only one that had reached out to him. Had comforted him when his mother had passed. They were close. But one thing would always prevent them from truly being friends.

Lars was afraid.

Afraid of King Arrius.

After his mother's death, the King had publicly announced that the woman had been a peasant. That Han's birth had been nothing but an accident. His entire life had changed. Gone was the respect that he believed had been his. Gone was his chances at the crown that he had thought was attainable.

And gone was the five year friendship he had with Lars.

The eldest prince had turned away from him.

Though he never mocked him like the others, Lars had refused to stand up for him when it mattered most.

Lars had betrayed him.

And Hans was no longer afraid to acknowledge it.

"How could you?!" He screamed.

Lars's eyes widened in fear. "Hans, calm down-"

Hans didn't stop. "You said we were friends! How could you just leave me for that terrible excuse for a king?!"

"What are you talking about...?"

The response further added to Han's fury. He wasn't stupid. Lars was feigning ignorance.

"I thought you cared about me…" Hans whispered brokenly.

The older prince hesitated but forced himself to answer.

"I do."

Lies.

Hans once again lashed out violently. "Then why didn't you stop me?! Why didn't you stop me from leaving?! You knew I was going to leave for Arendelle, so why didn't you stop me from leaving?!"

A pause.

Lars didn't answer this time.

Nothing had changed.

"You wanted me gone." He answered his own question with a harsh whisper.

Lars shook his head but failed to annunciate any words from his mouth.

"You're just like him."

Lars retreated slightly, and Hans felt a demonic whisper encroach his conscience.

Kill him.

The voice passed through his skull and something inside him finally snapped. Though the next moment felt like an eternity in his mind, in actuality he made his decision in an instant. Lars trusted him, Lars befriended him, but Lars betrayed him. And now he had to die. When his brother turned to run, Hans felt his body move like a possessed animal.

Hans felt his blood boil and a primal strength take hold of his limbs. Without hesitation he threw himself at Lars from behind, shoulder ramming into his back and sending the older prince sprawling onto the carpet of the halls. Lars turned over but not quickly enough to get to his feet. Hans swatted away his arms to clamp a hand down around his neck, his own heart pounding in his throat as he squeezed forcefully. It would be over soon.

Except Lars managed to get his leg in between them, and one frantic kick knocked Hans away. Throat freed but gasping for air, Lars gripped at his constricted neck.

Unnoticing of the snarl ripping itself from his lips, Hans leapt forward and punched Lars in the face, again and again, ignoring the loud screams and even the pain in his knuckles at his already torn skin. The servants would hear them, and so this time Hans pressed all his weight down to trap his brother's legs, then wrapped both of his hands around Lars's throat. Hans's bloodshot eyes bulged in their sockets as he stared down at Lars desperately batting at his hands, then his face, nails leaving red scratches on the front of his face. Hans slammed his head down into the solid ground and squeezed harder, trying to crush Lar's throat in his hands.

Slowly, the resistance weakened. One second turning into ten.

Until Lars slackened entirely and Hans finally let go. Lars fell limp, surrounded by a river of blood seeping into the carpet from the back of his head.

Hans's heart stopped and the violent instinct immediately left his body. He jerked away and scrambled to his feet.

What have I done…?

With his own hands, he had just murdered his eldest brother.

His only friend he ever had in the castle.

Panic seizing him, Hans turned tail and ran. Bile rose to his mouth as he felt himself prepared to vomit.

It didn't matter where he ran. He just needed to leave immediately.

And so he ran away from the castle. Aimlessly, till his legs could no longer take him any further.

Hans fell to the ground, and smashed his fists into the solid dirt. And finally let himself succumb to his tears.

No one could hear him. And it was better that way. If he was meant to suffer, then it was better to suffer alone.

Though really, he wasn't alone.

"Well done, Hans…"

Hans's head jerked up so fast that he felt his neck protest painfully at the sudden movement.

He recognized the voice.

The voice that had been in his head earlier.

The one that he had thought had been his own, influenced by the temporary bloodlust he had for Lars's life.

Though this time it did not come from his mind. Someone had spoken to him outside of his body, and Hans felt himself tense up in response.

"Who's there?!" He yelled at no one.

"Look around you."

Warily, he did. In his hysterical frenzy he had managed to flee to the one place where he felt comfortable enough to hide. His mother's grave. There was no marker for him to pay his respects to, no tombstone to kneel at and properly grieve. There was only the tree where he had chosen to bury her forgotten body, unassumingly and quietly so she would bother no one in death as she had bothered no one in life. No one came here except him.

Hans shook his head and his eyes searched wildly in between the trees surrounding him. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Why did you run?" Asked the voice. It was louder suddenly, as though right next to his ears.

"Stop hiding and show yourself."

"Why did you run?" It repeated.

Irritation boiled inside Hans as he stood to his feet. "Show yourself!"

"Would you like me to answer for you?"

A pause and Hans felt himself sweat in anticipation.

"Because you're weak."

"Shut up!" Hans yelled furiously.

"Useless."

"Just shut up! Stop hiding you coward!" He refused to be taunted by something he couldn't see.

"Coward…" The voice trailed off.

At that, it fell silent. And Hans searched frantically around him for any trace of the voice. It was dark and hard to see in the empty forest around him. And for a second he thought that the voice really had disappeared.

But suddenly, the shadows on the forest ground, cast by the moonlight above, began moving. They morphed and changed into another, shifting and finally forming a distinct outline. A mist-woven shawl of dark purple emerged from the ground and draped an unfathomable blackness, which peered two haunting, red orbs. It was vaguely humanoid in shape, but seemed twisted, bent, pointed. It grinned. Or seemed to grin.

"Hello."

Hans lost his balance and fell on his behind. He felt his throat dry at the unnatural sight before him.

"Who are you...?"

"Who am I?" It appeared thoughtful as it pondered his question. "I am...Me." The young prince swallowed tightly at the dark aura that seeped under his skin.

"What...are you?"

"Everything that you wished you could be..." With one shadowy arm the figure extended upward and blotted the forest canopy in darkness.

"Arendelle isn't the only place with magic, Hans."

Evil. Hans could feel it emanating from the shadowy figure. Dangerous. Life-ending. Treacherous. It was nothing he had ever witnessed before. And yet he was drawn to it. Like a firefly drawn to light.

"Take what belongs to you."

Hans felt himself inch forward.

"The world has shown you injustice."

Closer.

"Pain."

And Closer.

"Sorrow."

"Let us share that suffering to the world…"

It smiled, and this time he could tell.

"Hans Westergaard."

Hans's hand was mere inches away from touching the extended tendrils of shadow when he suddenly felt himself stop. The magnetism that had previously drawn him closer had ceased and his conscience had returned to its original state.

Hans realized then that it was the shadow's doing.

It was giving him a choice.

A choice to turn back.

Or a choice to look onward.

Towards the future.

Was there anything for him back there?

The path behind that he was giving up...

Hans saw nothing but failure.

Nothing but the deadened eyes of his eldest brother.

There was nothing to go back to.

He could only move forward.

And so he did.

Decided, Hans extended his hand and touched the dark void in front of him.

Within milliseconds the shadowy figure plunged into his chest at a terrifying speed and Hans cried out in pain. He could feel the rapid tendrils of consummate emptiness working their way through his body and takeover his mind.

He was on the verge of passing out from the excruciating pain when suddenly, nothing.

The pain vanished.

It was finished.

The light of the moon had returned and the forest was brought back to its former peace.

Hans looked down at his body and found no evidence of the dark presence that had engulfed his form earlier.

He was the same.

But...

Different.

A pressure was exuding from his pores captivatingly, begging to be released.

Power.

Nothing to hold him back.

A foreign instinct took over, and Hans whirled around and flicked his wrist.

A bolt of energy with the darkest pitch of black flew from his fingers towards the treeline in front of him.

It exploded and the ground shook. The trees near its impact erupted into heavy purple flames.

He stared. Stone still. Enchanted by the beautiful flames.

An eternity passed.

And then he laughed.

And laughed.

Evolving into the purest form of hysteria.

The flames spread quickly to the adjacent trees and erupted into a blazing inferno. At its center stood the thirteenth prince of the Southern Isles, laughing maniacally at the fiery ruin caused by his own hands.

His laughter died down and he sighed euphorically. He grinned implishly down at his new tools of destruction.

The voice that left his mouth afterward was neither his nor the shadow's.

"Happy Birthday, Hans."

The castle was in chaos.

Lars's dead body had been found by a wandering servant and now every foot of the building was bustling with unrest.

The King had convened a meeting in the council room, summoning the twelve remaining princes and all fifteen members of the royal council to discuss the situation.

Except only eleven princes were present.

Leaving not much of a discussion on who the potential suspect might have been.

"It had to have been him! He was the only one that could've met him during the time!" Rudi began.

Frederick, the more introverted prince shook his head. "But why would he kill Lars...Lars was the only one that treated him well."

"For the crown, you dunce! He knew that he had no chance if Lars was still here." Caleb reasoned with annoyance.

Runo scoffed. "Even without Lars, he still has no chance."

Everyone was speaking over each other, but the consensus of the verdict was quite clear.

"Would Lars really lose to Hans in a fight?" Reid asked. "I find it hard to believe that Hans would overpower him in strength. He was choked to death, afterall."

Liam, the second youngest offered his input. "He must've poisoned him beforehand."

Rudi stood up urgently. "If it really was him then he must've ran! We have to go after him!"

"Let him run."

The King's voice hadn't been particularly loud, but the intention was enough for it to stand out far above the others. All the eyes fell to him as he continued.

"I have no doubt that Hans is the one responsible. He will run, but that will all the more remind him of his failures. He'll continue to live the rest of his life with fabricated pride, convinced that murdering Lars was an act of revenge against me. But he'll soon find that it was all in vain. Lars was merely the first step. You all here have potential to be greater." Arrius looked down at his remaining sons with a prideful smirk.

"You are all strong unlike him. Hans is weak. The boy only knows how to run."

He looked at the empty seat in the room to further prove his point.

"And he would be a fool to prove himself otherwise."

As if waiting for those particular words, the doors of the council hall opened in dramatic fashion.

Between them stood the thirteenth prince of the Southern Isles.

Everyone in the room stood at his entrance.

It was deathly quiet.

Hans moved slowly and made his way to stand before the King.

The guards stood attentive at the monarch's side, prepared to defend their sovereign from any suspicious actions from the prince.

Unexpectedly however, Hans fell to one knee.

"I have returned, father." There was no trace of malice this time around as Hans bowed respectfully.

If the King was fazed by the demonstration, he didn't show it. "So you have."

Hans didn't speak and continued to keep his head bowed. The King stared at the back of his head impassively, a brief silence settled between the two.

"Why did you kill Lars?" The King asked. No blame or no anger in his tone. A completely neutral expression held on his countenance.

Knowing Hans, Arrius suspected that the prince had prepared a ploy to escape his condemnation. He would pretend to mourn his brother's loss. And present fabricated evidence to pin the blame on a possible servant.

None of such came.

"Lars was weak. A pawn. I simply did you a favor, and removed him from your ranks. You deserve a much more powerful piece at your side." Hans offered.

"And you believe that piece, is you?" The King didn't bother hiding his surprise this time.

"Indubitably." Hans said without raising his head.

Arrius stared at him before his lips curled into a grin, and then transformed into a haughty laugh.

The princes and council members joined in on the cackling, and soon the entire room echoed with the familiar ridicule and jeers for the youngest prince.

Hans remained bowed, eyes closed and undaunted by the mockery.

"Ahhh, Hans. I applaud you for having the guts to return. You are indeed weak, but I never took you to be an idiot as well." Arrius chuckled.

The King placed an elbow on the throne and leaned his head onto his resting hand.

"Though it would serve me the utmost joy to see you standing in manure for the rest of your life, I'm afraid I do have to kill you this time, my boy."

Arrius raised his other hand to signal the guards.

"Seize him."

Hans remained unmoving from his position, demonstrating no resistance to his forthcoming execution.

But the guards remained equally still. Not moving from their stance at the King's side.

The monarch frowned and displayed a rare show of irritation. "What are all of you doing? Seize him!"

Arrius whirled his head around to look at the guards and was shocked at what he saw.

Their eyes were empty. Deadened. No cognizance to suggest that the King's order had been heard at all.

Finally Hans stood to his feet.

And on his face, an ear splitting grin.

The youngest prince waved his hand and the guards moved away from the throne and positioned themselves behind Hans, weapons drawn towards the other princes and council members that had moved forward to intervene.

Hans took three steps forward and was now face to face with the King of the Southern Isles.

Arrius willed himself to move but panic set in when he realized that he was being held down to his throne by some unseeable force.

Hans's glee refused to leave his face.

"Oh how the tables have turned. It really is as you say, father. Power is everything." He said as he looked down at his own hands dreamily.

Arrius shook his head in fear. "Hans, stop it...I was wrong. You were right. You deserve to be at my side. Just...let me go."

Hans laughed loudly before looking down at him with disgust. "How pathetic. And here I thought you might demonstrate a bit of more dignity."

He leaned down so that he could truly enjoy the desperation that had been instilled in his father's eyes.

"I considered it you know. Keeping you as a pawn. You could've been put to good use. It would've been smart to keep you here as leverage. And smart things are what rulers should do." He glanced at the crown resting on the older man's head and smirked.

"But it's like you said, Your Majesty."

The prince leaned in close.

And whispered.

"I don't know any better."

In a quick flash, Hans stepped back and swiped his hand in a cutting motion in the space in front of him. A piercing shadow followed and sliced through the air.

It was done.

The King's head rolled to the ground with a resounding thump.

A deadened silence filled the council hall, as everyone in the room stared at the horrific scene with their mouths agape.

The crown that had rested on the decapitated head, rolled off and fell in front of Hans's feet.

He reached for it.

And with little to no effort, crushed it into a thousand pieces with his new found strength.

The King was dead.

And a new one would now take his place.

With a wave of his hand, shadows engulfed Han's form and replaced the clothes on his back. A pitch black cloak fell from his shoulders and dispersed to the floor behind him. On his head, a crown appeared. Though rather than made of gold, a shadowy purple material coated the diadem adorned by gems of black.

He turned to the crowd behind him.

The fear in their eyes welcomed him to his new sovereignty.

The world would know his name.

His journey started here.

Kingdoms would fall, and with it, he would bless them with his pain and suffering.

There was much to be done.

So much to look forward to.

Prepare yourself...Elsa and Anna of Arendelle.

Elsa woke up to a warm body pressed against her side. It was pleasant. And Elsa settled on that pleasantness, and tried her best to ignore the myriad of strands of red hair that suddenly violated her eyes and mouth as she turned her head to the woman curled into her side. She couldn't help but smile at the redhead whose arm was draped across her waist, head buried in the crook of her neck, making Elsa aware of the warm breath puffing gently against her skin.

The past week had been the lightest her heart felt in a very long time.

Since the passionate night that she had shared with Anna, the two had settled into a healthy routine of a budding romantic relationship.

They worked together now. Paperwork was now done by both of them as they often found ways to help the other with the daily tasks of ruling the kingdom. Elsa would partake in the majority of the meetings with board members, and Anna handled the many logistical decisions that involved participation from the citizens. They worked together flawlessly, and Elsa was continuously amazed at how quick Anna was at learning new things.

With a romantic relationship also came the touch. And Elsa found that she couldn't get enough. The midday kisses brought her a reprieve to her stress that chocolate would never be able to achieve. The cuddles before bed eased her nerves, and Elsa found herself falling asleep much more easily when Anna was curled up in her arms. And the sex...

God, the sex.

Elsa's face burned just thinking about it. The act had a certain vulnerability to it that had both of them understanding each other deeply amidst the throes of passion. It made her feel special. That the incredible feeling of pleasure was something that could only be shared between the two of them.

But beyond the physical embodiment of ecstasy was something that she had come to appreciate even more.

It was the trust. The openness. The relief from the fact that no matter whatever they would face, they would face it together. They would place understanding each other over any other problem that would come their way. And Elsa found that all of the negative insecurities; their people not accepting them, the lack of an heir, trade agreements falling apart. They didn't...matter. Not when Anna was here. Not when all the happiness in the world was right there by her side, shining in all the bubliness and joy that was her sister.

She almost felt silly for not accepting it sooner.

Elsa finally snapped out of her dreamy thoughts and realized that Anna was awake and had been staring at her the entire time.

With a very dopey smile on her face.

Elsa laughed softly at her expression and reached down to move the strands of red hair that fell in front of her sister's nose.

"Good morning, beautiful." She whispered.

Anna responded by nudging closer and burying herself into Elsa's arms.

"If you keep calling me beautiful, what am I supposed to call you?" She murmured into her chest.

The older girl smirked. "Elsa."

"Well that's no fun is it?" Anna said while rolling her eyes playfully.

She looked up at Elsa and ran her fingers through platinum blonde locks.

"I think I'll stick to what I've called you before."

"And what's that?" Elsa smiled lazily, feeling herself get more and more lost in the loving gaze of the redhead as Anna pressed their foreheads together.

"Beautifuller."

Elsa giggled like a child and Anna followed suit. The fond memory of their first conversation upon their reunion three years ago still brought a smile to both of their faces.

The blonde sighed in content and rested her cheek on top of her sister's head.

A comfortable silence fell between the pair.

The rays of light from the morning sun had snuck its way into the bedroom and shined brightly onto the two sisters. They basked in the warm glow that accompanied their embrace, hoping to never let go of the bliss that had formed from their new relationship.

"Hey Elsa?" Anna asked softly.

"Hm?" The blonde hummed in acknowledgement.

Anna remained silent.

Elsa scooted back to look at her sister. "Yes?" She tried again.

Anna seemed hesitant to voice the thoughts in her mind. "You don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable answering. I just...I've been meaning to ask you this for quite some time."

Elsa almost laughed at that. After all they had been through, Anna was still trying to make sure she was comfortable around her.

She really didn't deserve her.

"It's fine, Anna. I would be happy to answer your question." Elsa smiled encouragingly.

Anna hesitated for a few more seconds, rubbing her shoulder nervously before finally looking up to meet her gaze.

"Do you hate being Queen…?"

Elsa blinked in surprise.

She certainly hadn't been expecting that question.

"What makes you say that?"

The younger girl broke eye contact and looked shyly towards the bed.

"It's just that...I watch you a lot, Elsa." Anna's eyes widened at her phrasing. "I mean not like...that! I'm not like stalking you or anything...-Not that I wouldn't! I mean..you're so beautiful so of course I would stalk you!" She mentally slapped herself. "That...didn't come out right. I'll just stop now." Anna's face burned terribly.

I'm a blubbering fool.

She really needed to learn how to think before she spoke.

All her embarrassment fluttered away however at what she heard next.

Elsa laughed. Not the usual giggle that she hid behind her hand occasionally. But a genuine laugh filled with joyful tears. One with no care for the people around her. Just free and pure happiness. And Anna felt her heart explode at the beautiful sound that she was so lucky to be blessed with.

"Anna…" She said while trying to calm her tears of mirth. "You have no idea how much I watch you too. If anything, I would be your stalker." Elsa said teasingly.

Anna blushed and looked away. "Thanks…"

The redhead cleared her throat before continuing. "Anyway, as I was trying to say before. I watch you a lot Elsa. And maybe I was imagining it...but when we were at Northuldra for the first time all those months ago, you almost seemed...excited. Excited to go find the spirits of the Enchanted Forest. I've never seen you like that before… it's just...I just...wonder...if you're really happy with your job as Queen..." Anna finished with a bit of sadness.

Elsa stared at the redhead in admiration. Her sister really was amazing at observing people. Anna's retelling had resonated with Elsa with pinpoint accuracy, and the blonde wanted to do nothing more than to reveal all the uncertainty that she hadn't been able to share yet.

But rather than answering the younger girl's question Elsa returned it with one of her own.

"What about you?"

"Huh?" Anna perked up.

"Do you enjoy being queen?" Elsa asked seriously.

The younger girl swallowed thickly.

If she was expecting Elsa to be honest with this, then she needed to be honest too.

Anna stared at the outline of the window at their bedside, contemplating her thoughts before finally sighing. Her shoulders deflated.

"I hate it. I hate being in one spot all the time." The redhead fiddled with the bedsheets as she continued. "It's nice to get recognition by our people and other princes and princesses. And having a big castle with really nice food and servants. But...I just want to go out! See what's out there you know? I can barely sit still, you know that. I love Arendelle, I really do. It's just that...sometimes it sucks. All the responsibility on our shoulders. I wish things were simpler sometimes…"

Anna looked up nervously at her sister.

And was relieved to find a smile on the blonde's face.

"Ditto."

Both of them laughed at that. Even in the serious atmosphere that had arisen, the two of them were always able to find snippets of joy hidden somewhere in their interactions.

Elsa's smile fell briefly as she gazed apologetically at her sister. "I'm sorry I left you, Anna. Left all the responsibility on you. I should've never done that to you..."

Anna moved forward to hug her. "I forgive you. You know I always will."

Elsa smiled and moved to kiss the top of the younger girl's head. "And for that, I am eternally grateful."

They broke apart, and Elsa reached forward to gently grasp Anna's hands.

"And you're right, Anna. I don't always like being Queen either. Mama and Papa have trained me since I was young to one day rule after them. I may be good at it, but that doesn't necessarily mean I enjoy it. It's satisfying to see the people that we take care of appreciate us, to love us as their rulers, and really it's our duty to carry on Mama and Papa's legacy." Elsa stared wistfully at their entwined hands.

She looked back up to meet her sister's gaze. "But I agree with you. It's stressful, and sometimes I wish we could just let go, and just be us...you know?"

Anna nodded sadly. "Yeah…"

A minute passed and the two sisters stayed that way. Holding each other's hands while silently reflecting on their conversion.

A few more moments of quiet passed before an idea came to Elsa's mind.

"Hey."

Anna looked up at her. "Hm?"

"I've noticed something recently."

Anna blinked and Elsa continued.

"Ever since we've been working together this past week, we've been getting through our schedule of tasks a lot more quickly, wouldn't you say?"

Anna smiled brightly at that. "Cause we're a great team!"

"The best." The older girl agreed. "But do you know what else has changed because of it?"

Anna tilted her head in question. "What?"

The blonde smiled. "We have no paperwork that needs to be done on Sunday."

The redhead's eyes widened, her brief gasp signifying her realization at what Elsa was getting at.

"I say...we let our advisors make the ruling decisions for us that day. And you and I can go-"

"Exploring!" Anna finished with an excited squeal.

Elsa retreated back shyly. "Only if you want to, Anna...It was just a thought."

The younger girl leaned in coyly. "Are you asking me out on a date, Elsa?"

The blonde looked at anywhere but her sister and then tilted her shoulder sheepishly. "Maybe..?"

Anna giggled and rushed forward to pounce on her sister.

Elsa joined in with her sister's laughing and the two nuzzled each other lovingly.

In that moment, the thought in both of their minds was the same.

I love you.

Anna removed herself from the embrace and pulled Elsa off of the bed to a standing position, never letting go of her hand.

"Speaking of new hobbies, I want to show you something I've been working on, Elsa."

"Your ice skating skills I would hope?" Elsa teased.

Anna glared playfully at her.

"Oh, hush you. I'll have you know that it's way better than ice skating."

Elsa smiled brightly and let her sister drag her out of the room, all the while wondering at what her sister's new hobby could be.

A/N: Hello! I have returned.

Thanks for reading guys. I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!

Lot of dark stuff from the first part, but we finally got a good amount of fluff for our two love sick dorks of Arendelle. Don't worry, the angst will be back soon enough :)

There's been a lot of adjustment on my side for the COVID-19 situation, but I'll continue to do my best to maintain my one chapter per week schedule.

Once again, thanks for reading, and feel free to leave a review.

Stay safe guys, and until next time!