◤ hans ◢

{♔} —- “He,” Hans corrected softly. His tone was not as playful as it might have been—squabbling over the gender of their child was something of a game between the King and Queen—but neither was it stern. He was merely stating a fact. Their child was a boy. A he, not a she.

Though Hans wrapped his arms around Elsa and placed a kiss to the top of her head, the King was still numb, both inside and out. He didn’t feel relief for Elsa’s safety, nor gratitude for their good fortune. He felt nothing.

The sensation reminded Hans of his childhood. He felt everything so strongly then: jealousy for his brothers, anger for his father, fear of the magic inside his veins. It did not take him long to discover that control of his emotions was tantamount to controlling his fires, and so the young boy taught himself not to feel anything, to burn away his grief when it became too strong.

And so Hans defaulted to his reflective nature. When he could not—or would not—show his own emotions, he mirrored the emotions of others.

“You must have been so terrified,” Hans said, his hand stroking down Elsa’s long, soft plait. “Trying to protect yourself, and our child… I’d have burnt the attacker alive.”

✕ ✕ ┊she of ice & snow ;;

Her tears seemed endless now that the floodgates that once held them back broke. Her child was safe, so why did grief and terror continue to linger in her veins? She almost half expected another assassin to appear and do what the other could not. This thought caused her heart to drop below her stomach and her grip to tighten around her husband. Teeth sank into her bottom lip as she tried not to allow her nausea to overcome her. 

Then, she remembered the physician’s words and she did her best to calm her panicking heart. She took a number of slow, deep breaths as she brought her body closer to Hans’ body. She sought comfort in his touch, in his fires. A soft moan escaped her lips when she felt her powers responding to his fires. A burst of energy seemed to fill her, as if their powers were working together to make sure their child was safe and alive. 

When she heard his words, a strangled sob escaped her lips. ❝S-she’s…❞

She couldn’t even say it. Instead, she pulled away and stared at her hands. It was self-defense. She was defending herself and her child ; she should not feel guilty, right? Yet, the guilt was there. 

❝I-I lost control Hans. I-I

    S-she… I wounded her, badly.❞