Jump Into the Fog

Someone Who Shirks Such Little Self-Restraint

"I'd leave, but the fjord is frozen solid." Hans could just feel that leer on the Duke's face, practically.

"Then find a way," he growled, slamming the door shut.

-

The first glimpse of a darker side of Hans that Elsa saw was soon after the Duke of Weselton left back for his kingdom.

And it really did scare her.

"God damn it!" he cried, slamming her office door shut. Elsa jumped, heart pounding in her chest. She almost dripped stray ink on her parchment.

"Hans, please, I'm trying to draft this proposal," she replied calmly, putting the quill back in its inkwell.

"Damn that little weasel!" Hans wasn't calming down, though; he ran his hands through his hair and slumped in one of the chairs by the window.

Elsa felt a bit frightened; the arms of her chair started to freeze up. Putting her gloves on, she approached Hans quickly. "Calm down, please," she pleaded. "Let me help you out…"

Hans looked up at her, clenching his fists tightly. "I absolutely can't stand—"

Elsa held her hand up and kneeled before him. If Hans could comfort her in her most vulnerable moments, then Elsa could surely do the same. But she could feel the temperature drop more around her…

Taking off her gloves shakily, Elsa held her hands up. "Let's try it again…" she whispered, looking up at Hans hopefully.

"Damn it, Elsa, do we have to do this now?" Hans frowned, but he took his gloves off anyway, tossing them to the ground.

The exercise was to keep contact with him, trying not to let her powers touch him. Elsa thought of it as one of the most intimate activities in which she'd ever took part. They'd been trying at it for about a week and a half now, and the longest Elsa had lasted before Hans pulled away from cold hands was only about a minute. Elsa couldn't help it, though; she found an attraction to the look and feel of his hands—not callused, incredibly regal, slightly on the large side. They were the only pair she'd ever really touched in her lifetime. And the thought only made her more nervous and scared.

But she was willing to try; it was a good exercise to keep her powers in check.

"Please, Hans…" she begged, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I think I can do it this time."

Hans nodded, and slowly, with a shaky breath, Elsa threaded her fingers with his, closing her eyes. So far, so good… Deep breath, slow counting…

"Elsa, you know it won't really work if you don't look at me," Hans coaxed, squeezing her hands gently.

They felt so soft, so clean cut and warm—like she imagined a royal's hands to feel. Elsa slowly opened her eyes, meeting his in deep concentration. He looked like he had so much faith in her, and in that moment Elsa didn't feel pressured, didn't feel any fear or nervousness. She only saw trust, and she felt something she hadn't detected in a long time: warmth. It erupted in her core and spread outward, and the whole room suddenly felt… normal.

Elsa didn't know just how long she held Hans' hands, but all she knew was that for the first time since creating her ice palace, she felt in control of her powers. Whether it was his doing or something inside her she didn't know, but all she wanted was to tap into whatever it was.

Taking one hand, Hans lifted Elsa's chin toward his face gently. "Stay in control, Elsa; I want to try something," he whispered.

The temperature dropped slightly, but Elsa just took a deep breath and kept it in control. She trusted Hans. He was the only doing what he could to help her.