#even rose's happy ending is tinged with a sort of tragedy of you really think about it

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

the way all of ten's companions leave the doctor in journey's end thinking he's going to be more than fine because he's got his best friend with him and they've all got that just-saved-the-world glow only for ten to look like that when rose kisses tentoo when just before (in a deleted scene) donna had assured rose that she would be there to keep the doctor company while the doctor is already anticipating that he's going to have to wipe donna's memory?? oh idk what rtd was feeding us to make us go this feral because he sure as hell wasn't feeding us happy fucking endings

[calenheniel]

Queen of the Ashes, a frozen fanfic | Part IV

Frozen | Alternate Universe | Hans x Elsa | Romance, Drama | T+

They met as children, each with a secret. Plagued by tragedy, their paths meet again many years later, and their secrets are unraveled.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Updates: #QueenoftheAshesFrozen

Author’s Note: This fic is probably going to end up being 7-8 parts in total in draft form. I may then go back and re-edit to have it published in 4-5 longer chapters. Anyway, I don’t want to say anything else. Happy quarantine reading!

»»————-　❈　————-««

IV.

She awoke the next morning to a vicious headache, groaning at the sunlight streaming through her window.

Every scene from the night before came into clear focus, and she swore at herself for refusing to drink, wishing that she could forget certain conversations.

I wouldn’t joke about something like this.

She rolled over, stuffing her face in her pillows, trying to block out the sound of his voice.

I wanted to be honest with you, Elsa.

She raised herself up on her hands in a huff, marching over to her closet and throwing the doors open with a burst of wintry wind. She regretted it as soon as she saw her clothes covered in a dusting of snow, and brushed it off while muttering to herself, the headache unabating.

Just as she finished changing, a knock on the door made her jump, and her newly-made crown nearly fell from her hands.

“Your Majesty? It’s Gerda,” said the voice of a servant on the other side. “Breakfast is ready for you. The princess is already at the table.”

The queen almost dropped the crown again, blinking. “Anna is… at breakfast? Already?”

The older woman creaked the door open a little to smile at her queen. “Yes, Your Majesty. With one of your guests, I believe.”

She turned red from her face down to her hands, still uncovered, and her mouth dropped open, then shut again, before she could manage to reply. “I see. Thank you for telling me,” she said, and quickly slid on her gloves. With trembling hands, she secured her crown atop her head. “I’ll be down shortly.”

“I’ll let them know,” the servant said, curtsying and closing the door.

The queen leaned against her bedpost, shaking her head. A frown spread across her features and remained there even as she left the room, taking long and angry – but still outwardly composed – strides through the hall and down the staircase.

She stopped just before the entryway to the private dining room, and took a deep breath, knowing what waited for her if she turned the corner.

I can promise you that it’s not Anna I’m after.

She shifted her frown into a neutral expression with some effort, swallowing, and stepped forward.

Her headache was gone.

»» —— ««

“Elsa! We’ve been here for a while. I thought maybe you decided to sleep in, for once.”

Her sister’s exclamation forced the queen to present a smile, though her nose wrinkled as she did. “Yes,” she replied dryly. She ignored the other person in the room even as he rose and bowed to acknowledge her entrance. “How the tables have turned.”

Her sister laughed at the remark until she snorted, and the prince sat down again. “She’s saying that because I’m never up this early,” the princess explained to their guest, grinning. “Elsa’s always back at work by the time I make it downstairs.”

Her smile dipped a little at this last comment, though the prince was quick to reply: “Is she?” He looked up at the young queen, who was taking her seat at the head of the table when their eyes finally met. “I can see that.”

She stared daggers back at him until he turned away. “I feel very fortunate to have been invited to a private breakfast with you two,” he continued, bowing his head. “It’s been a long time since I shared a meal with family,” he said, smiling sadly, “or something like family.”

Her lip twitched at the comment, and she could barely restrain a scowl as her sister pressed a sympathetic hand to his. “Well you have us, now,” the princess assured him, “and you can join us for breakfast or for any other meal whenever you like.”

Irritation crackled through the queen’s spine. “Anna…” she said, “I don’t think—”

“Don’t worry, Elsa,” her sister interrupted. “I already told Hans he’s welcome to stay with us in the castle as long as he likes, so he doesn’t have to go back home so soon.”

Her mouth went limp. “As long as he likes,” she repeated, oblivious to the servants placing her meal down in front of her.

“Yep,” her sister said, smiling. “Won’t it be great to have him around? Up until yesterday, we haven’t had anyone else here in the longest time,” she said, adding in a gentler way: “I know it’ll be a change from what we’re used to, but… isn’t change good, sometimes, too?”

She gripped her silverware hard enough to feel them start to ice over, and then she exhaled, compelling herself to nod politely in agreement. “It can be,” she forced the words out, and then looked at the prince, her gaze hollow. “And has our guest agreed to stay?”

He matched the princess’s smile. “Yes, at least for the next two weeks of festivities,” he replied, standing to bow. “Or as long as you’ll both have me.”

She gestured for him to sit again, and turned to her sister. “We should talk about this later,” she said. “Anyway, please keep eating, or the food will get cold.”

The princess pouted but went back to buttering her toast, eyeing her sister with caution in the silence.

The queen refused to meet the look, finding her gaze torn between her breakfast – which she had no appetite for – and the prince, who ate his meal with patient precision, his utensils hardly making noise as they touched the plate.

At length, she cleared her throat to get his attention. “So,” she began, tapping her nails against her glass of water, “what were you two talking about, before I arrived?”

“I was just—”

“We were mostly just talking about that time he visited when we were kids,” her sister interjected, looking relieved to be speaking again. “He was reminding me about a lot that I had forgotten.”

She swallowed, her stomach turning just as it had the night before. “Did he?” she asked. “And what did you remind her of, Hans?”

“Just the games we used to play together—or rather,” he corrected himself, “of the games I used to watch the two of you play, while I skulked off to the corner.” He chuckled. “I was really so unfriendly back then. It’s a wonder you two were still so kind to me in spite of it.”

Suspicion laced her stare as her sister giggled at the memory. “Yeah, you were a little on the antisocial side. But you did help us with those puzzle sets that I hated, and I almost got to dress you up in one of Elsa’s gowns that one time, before you ran away.”

As they laughed, the queen watched their exchange between small bites of her meal. Observing how her sister’s sunny, bright disposition was unflinching throughout, she wondered if her deeper fears were unfounded.

“But you told us that really good story that one time, about a kid who could… make fire? Or something like that.” The princess shook her head with a smile. “You had a good imagination for such a sourpuss.”

He looked embarrassed at the comment. “Oh, that? I’m surprised you remember it,” he replied. “I just made it up on the spot, actually. It wasn’t from a book, or anything like that.”

“I knew it!” the princess proclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Even as a kid. I mean, I don’t really remember it that well, but…” She trailed off, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I think I was upset because you didn’t give us a good ending, or something like that.”

His smile flinched for a second. “No, I didn’t.” He sat up taller. “But enough about me. What about you two? Are you still getting into any trouble, these days?”

“Us? Trouble?” the princess replied. “No. Not really.” She forked a morsel of smoked salmon over to the side of her plate. “Not in a while.”

The two sisters exchanged a long look at this, and the elder coughed to break it. “Not for a long time,” she agreed, and took another sip of water. She shot the prince a dark look. “We can’t afford to get into trouble.”

“Well, Elsa can’t, anyway, now that she’s queen. Me, on the other hand? I do all sorts of crazy stuff,” her sister said in a conspiratorial way, smirking. She added in just above a whisper: “I just do it behind the scenes, you know? So it’s not obvious.”

“Right,” said her older sister, her blonde brow rising. “It’s not obvious at all when you’re riding a bicycle in the hallway, whooping as you go.”

“Okay, well, a little obvious.”

The two shared a genuine laugh at this, which lasted until the queen remembered the presence of a third party at the table. She cleaned her lips self-consciously with a delicate dab from her napkin, and when she looked up, she noticed him staring at her.

Her face flushed. “I should be going now,” she said suddenly, “as I have some work to attend to.” She forced her head to turn towards her sister. “And I believe you have a meeting with the French ambassador and his party starting in a few minutes, don’t you?”

The princess slid down in her chair with a groan. “I forgot about that,” she sighed. “Can’t we take the day off? Your coronation was only yesterday, and—”

“No, Anna, we can’t,” she cut in with a stern tone, though her skin was still tinged red, feeling his eyes on her. “And besides,” she continued, “it’ll be an opportunity to put your French lessons to good use. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

“I guess,” her sister muttered, crossing her arms and sliding down the chair further. “If I have to.”

The queen held in a chuckle, her attention finally returning to the prince. “And you…” she paused, uneasy.

He glanced down at the napkin on the table next to her plate, and then back up at her. “I’ll find some way to occupy myself, I’m sure,” he offered, smiling in the same, unnerving way he had all morning. “Should you deign to have me at another meal, I would be honored to join.”

“The library,” she said suddenly, wearing a thin smile. “We have an extensive collection; I think you might like it in there.” After a beat, she explained: “If I recall, you were quite the bookworm when we were children.”

He nodded, a little taken aback. “Yes, and still am,” he said. “I’ll go there, then. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She did not like his manners –the overtness of his looks, the presumption of another invitation to dinner, the use of her formal title – but, for her sister’s sake, she smiled and nodded as she rose from the table. The prince and princess followed, curtsying and bowing to her as she left.

As she reached and then ascended the staircase, her heart pounded so loudly in her ribcage that she could hear little else.

»» —— ««

The presence of the dignitaries at court meant that the queen could not avoid in-person meetings as before, and her morning was soon occupied by one foreign sycophant after the other. Each was more eager than the last to make an impression on the mysterious young queen, with more than one unsubtle mention of marriage prospects and suitable candidates.

Forced to endure their suggestions, she was at pains to smile through the conversations, and often tried to change topics to trade, politics, architecture, or really anything else. She snuck a curious glance in the direction of the library whenever she got a chance, and her nose would wrinkle a little each time she did, remembering who was inside.

When the last meeting with the Spanish ambassador had drawn to a close – she ended it early after the words “Prince Diego, a fine young man” had left his lips – she took a small lunch in her bedroom and walked directly to her guest’s place of temporary exile, finding that her feet were leading her there before her head could protest.

She was unsurprised to find her sister with the prince, sitting at a table with a large book of maps open between them. He pointed at locations while the princess commented between bites of her sandwich; his handkerchief being empty, the queen surmised that he had eaten his already.

“Ahem,” she said to announce her entrance, and the prince leapt up from his seat, bowing.

Her sister merely waved, gesturing for her to come over with a mouth full of food. “Elsa! Come and look at this. Hans has been showing me where he’s traveled with the Navy.”

She frowned a little as she approached them. “You know you’re not supposed to eat in here,” she scolded.

“Sorry,” the princess apologized, grinning sheepishly, and stuffed the remainder of the sandwich in her face.

This earned her an eye-roll from the queen, who nonetheless took a seat next to her, staring at the prince with feigned interest. “So you’ve traveled,” she said.

“Yes,” he replied, smiling as he took his seat. He smoothed his bare hands out over the pages, pointing at the North Sea. “I was just telling the princess about my last trip to Scotland on duty, some years ago. We were out on a naval exercise and got caught in a bad storm with crazy winds. I was lucky to—”

He paused when he noticed that both sisters looked uncomfortable at his tale, their gazes turned down. Realizing his faux pas, he sat back with an embarrassed look. “I’m so sorry,” he said, “I didn’t think—”

“It’s fine,” the queen snapped, eyeing her sister with some worry. When the princess nodded back, she repeated in a calmer way: “It’s fine. You were saying?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, “it wasn’t a good story, anyway.”

A silence settled upon the group until the princess broke it, remarking: “But his other trips sounded wonderful! He mentioned one to France, where he stayed out so late he missed his cleaning duties the next morning on the ship.”

She giggled, and he chuckled in return. “It wasn’t funny at the time, when I was sure I’d be whipped,” he commented, “but I was able to squeeze out of that scrape, fortunately.”

The queen smiled. “It’s good to be a prince, isn’t it?” she remarked, a hint of smugness in her tone. At his furrowed brow, she peeked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room behind him. Seeing the time, her eyes lifted. “Oh, Anna,” she said to her sister, “isn’t it time for your music lesson?”

The princess blinked, following the queen’s eyes to the clock, and then sighed. “Yeah, it is,” she admitted, dragging herself up from the table with a frown. She patted down her dress, and looked at her older sister with pleading eyes. “Can this be the last of it today? I told Hans we could have tea together later.”

She inhaled, and then relented. “Fine,” she agreed, then added more gently: “You’ve been very helpful these last few weeks, Anna. Thank you.”

The princess beamed at this praise, nodding. “Of course, Elsa. I just want to help where I can.”

The two sisters curtsied to one another, and just before the younger one left the room, she grinned at their guest. “I’ll see you later, Hans. But don’t you dare eat any of the chocolate eclairs without me!”

He smiled back at her. “I’ll try not to, Your Highness.”

She flashed him a suspicious look before finally exiting, and he laughed a little when the door closed after her, eyeing the queen with a curious stare. “Does she really have a lesson,” he asked, “or was that just an excuse to get her out of the room?”

She frowned. “She always has music lessons on Mondays at one. Not everyone has ulterior motives like you, Hans.” Her gaze narrowed at him before turning to the table, and she brushed off the remaining crumbs from her sister’s sandwich into her palm with a sigh. “She brought you lunch, I presume?”

He folded the handkerchief, calmly following her lead. “I thought I’d made my motives quite clear last night,” he replied, “and yes. She was kind enough to bring it to me.” After they had both finished cleaning the table, he shut the book and placed it under his arm, meeting her eyes with one raised eyebrow. “I’m surprised you haven’t sent me away yet.”

She gestured for him to lead them as he walked to the original location of the book, following him with a straight and stiff posture. “I wanted to, when I heard you were at breakfast with her, but…” She swallowed. “Then I saw how you two were getting along this morning, plus just now, and I—well, I couldn’t just throw you out of the castle in front of her.” Her frown returned. “But you knew that would happen, didn’t you?”

He paused in their travels to turn around and look at her, his smile cautious enough to invite suspicion, but not confirm it. “You really don’t trust me at all, do you?” he asked. “I can’t say I blame you; I haven’t really earned it yet.” He didn’t aver his eyes from hers. “I was prepared to leave this morning, but Anna insisted I join her. And, remembering that you wanted to tell her yourself that I was leaving, well…” He shrugged and turned back around, continuing his walk between the library’s endless, tall shelves. “I didn’t want to disobey your orders, Elsa.”

She stood stunned for a moment, and then stomped after him, her arms crossed. “How convenient for you,” she hissed as she caught up to him, and then added with a crinkled brow: “And where did you find that book? I haven’t seen it before.”

He stifled a laugh. “The stacks at the end,” he informed her. “Reminds me of the library at home.” He continued after a beat: “I spent a lot of time in there, growing up.”

In spite of her reservations, the queen replied: “I did too, in here.”

He peeked at her over his shoulder, tapping the volume under his arm. “Then I’m surprised you didn’t recognize this.”

She glared at him. “I haven’t read every book in here—just most of them,” she retorted. “Nautical maps weren’t exactly my favorite.”

They arrived at their destination a moment later, and he smiled at her as he slipped the book back into place. “Then what is it that the Queen of Arendelle likes to read?”

She reddened. “History of architecture, mostly,” she mumbled, her arms relaxing a little, “and fiction, from time to time. Everything else I read out of boredom, or because—”

“You were told to?” he finished, and she frowned. “Yes, I’m familiar with that kind of reading, too.”

Their gazes met in the pause that followed, and her cheeks grew redder upon realizing how closely they were standing to each other. “Anyway,” she began, stepping back from him, “I… I’m not going to ask you to leave. Not yet.”

He blinked. “Oh?”

She pursed her lips. “Not because I want you to stay, of course,” she continued. “It’s for Anna. She hasn’t had anyone to talk to in a long time outside of me, and I’m not exactly the most thrilling company.” The redness in her features had not abated, though her face softened as she admitted: “I haven’t seen her this happy in a while, and I don’t want to take that away from her.”

Before he could chime in, she continued: “She does seem taken with you, to be sure, but… knowing Anna, if she liked you in that way, she’d have told me so already, and probably in dramatic fashion.” Something in-between a smile and a cringe touched her expression. “Thankfully, that hasn’t happened yet, so I’m inclined to believe that the connection you two share is… innocent, for lack of a better word.” Her gaze was penetrating as she added: “And it must remain so.”

He bowed his head. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he assured her. “I’m just grateful to know that you’re starting to believe me when I say as much.”

Reminded of what he had told her the night prior, she sucked in a breath, her stare still wary. “Right,” she rejoined. “Because your designs are on me, not Anna.”

“‘Designs’ makes it sound so… villainous,” he remarked, sighing.

“Is that so?” she scoffed. “Then which term, exactly, would you prefer me to use?”

“Just…” he started, and then leaned his elbow against the shelf, his hand brushing against a divider. His gaze grew more focused on her. “Interest.”

“Interest,” she repeated. She glanced at his hand dangling a few feet away from her, his bare skin unnerving her again. “The kind of interest that leads you to sit on the throne, I presume.”

“It’s not about that,” he replied so quickly as to catch her off-guard. “You said it yourself last night: if I really wanted a crown and nothing else, I could’ve had that already.”

“Then what is it, Hans?” she asked. “What makes your ‘interest’ in me so different from all of that?”

He looked down at her crossed arms, and she followed his stare; when she realized the meaning in it, her skin flushed anew, and she aligned her hands to her sides.

“You know, I thought it was strange, at first,” he began, cocking his head to the side, “how Anna never mentioned anything, in all our conversations over the last two days. I would’ve thought that she’d speak of nothing else, remembering how enthusiastic she was about it when we were children.” He stared at her in a thoughtful way. “Not to mention that shock of white hair she has now, which I can’t recall her having before.”

At her silence, he resumed his speech. “But then I remembered the news of how the castle in Arendelle had suddenly been closed off, and how, for years afterwards, no one had seen either of you in person. I thought at the time that it might’ve been related to what I saw here, as a boy, but I couldn’t be sure, and I…” He shifted in his stance. “Well, I had my own problems to deal with back then, and couldn’t spend as much time theorizing about it as I would’ve liked to.” He paused. “Talking to Anna, and then seeing you again, all those old ideas came back to me. I tried to bring it up with her in a roundabout way last night when we were in the gallery, after almost an hour of discussing our favorite kinds of sandwiches and chocolates, but she just gave me an odd look.”

She swallowed. “What did you ask her, exactly?”

“If you two were still building snowmen in there,” he answered, and her shoulders rose nearly to her ears. “She said, ‘how could we build them indoors?’ So I didn’t pry further.” He studied her red face and trembling hands. “I thought perhaps she was protecting you, but… given how chatty she is about everything else, I guessed that wasn’t it, either.”

His tone was calm but directed as he continued: “Then, I saw it at breakfast – when you were gripping your fork and knife – and when she didn’t even notice it, that confirmed for me that whatever is going on, I wasn’t going to find out from her.”

She bit her lip to keep it from quivering, but did not reply, staring at the ground.

“So I’ve been wondering, Elsa: what happened?”

She watched him take one step closer, and sucked in a breath, her head snapping up. Tears stung at her eyes. “I—” she started to say, but her reply was cut short by her own, erratic breathing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

His gaze softened. “It’s all right. You can tell me.”

She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” he offered. “I might understand it better than you think.”

“How could you?” she shot back at him, a deep frown etching itself onto her lips. “You don’t know what it was like to be alone for all these years, to have to lie to your only sister, to not even be able to hug your own mother and father before they—”

She cut off her speech before she could finish, placing her face in her hands.

“Elsa.”

A familiar voice and a warm hand on her shoulder roused her from her misery, and she looked up, half-expecting to see her father again.

Instead, she was greeted by a pale-faced prince who held her steady with his hands on her arms, and when she had gathered her senses about her, she stepped back out of his grasp, faintly aware of the traces of snowflakes still stuck to her dress.

She passed a gloved hand over her face. “I hurt her, Hans,” she said in a small, quiet voice. “I hurt her.”

“How?”

Her hand dropped to her side, though she still would not look at him. “It happened a couple years after you visited,” she murmured. “I struck her in the head by accident while we were playing, and… everything changed, after that.” Her jaw tensed. “By some strange creature’s magic, she was made to forget what happened—not just on that night, but on all the other nights before. Anything related to my—”

She could not bring herself to say it, her voice coming out as a croak when she next spoke. “She thinks she was born with that streak of white hair.” She touched the spines of some of the books on the shelf next to them with shaking fingers. “She doesn’t know, because she doesn’t remember. But I do.”

He was quiet for a long while, venturing to speak only when the temperature had become more bearable. “It’s not just your powers that she doesn’t remember, Elsa.”

At his comment, she finally looked at him, bemused. “What do you mean?”

He brushed a snowflake from his shoulder, and watched it melt in the air before looking back at her.

“If she was made to forget who you were,” he replied, “then how can she know who you are, now?”