I'm Afraid of What I'm Risking if I Follow You

Part 2

Elsa shook her head.

"The shores aren't calm like the ones in Arendelle, nor are the beaches peaceful. It's rocky and miserable. Hot in the summer, cold in the winter. It's the type of cold that would make even you shiver."

His words were making her shiver. "That's still no excuse for your actions. You had a sentence to fill out, and I intend to send you back to do so."

"You have no authority anymore; you're not a queen," Hans shot back.

"I could bring you to Anna," she threatened. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled to send you back. She'd probably throw in another punch for good measure."

"I meant what I said. The only way I'm going back to the Southern Isles is if I'm dead."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "You're being overdramatic. You're a prince; it couldn't have been that bad, even with your punishment. Why choose to run away from your title?"

She watched his hands ball up into tense fists. "The first thing they did was sell my horse. I know it's ridiculous to call a horse a 'friend,' but when three brothers ignored you for two years..."

Her mind wandered to Kristoff's relationship with Sven. "You raised him since he was a foal," she surmised, wishing she wasn't actually engaging in this conversation. There was almost this hypnotic quality to his voice—was she succumbing? She couldn't be.

"It was all hell from there. I preferred being ignored over ridiculed."

"It was for good reason. You should have gotten worse for attempted murder."

Hans sighed. "I'm sorry. I really am."

An apology, she never expected. Not from him. Not from Prince Hans—he was just evil; he couldn't justify any of his actions. "You're three years too late on that one. Besides, it's Anna who needs to hear it more."

He shrugged. "You're right. But I mean to keep going. I mean to leave this entire region."

Her eyes narrowed. "Coward. The last thing you deserve is freedom."

"And what are you?" he inculpated. "You renounced your title to 'find yourself.' Don't think I didn't ask with Yelena around. You found the source of your powers and... what now? What's next for the great Snow Queen?"

When he said it aloud, it didn't sound like a promising future. And she hated that just days ago she'd wondered the same thing. Her jaw clenched tight, wishing she could just storm out of the hut, leap onto the Nokk and get away from all of this, if even for just a few moments.

"I still frequent Arendelle," she tried to justify. "My presence is suited more as a protector rather than a leader. Not that you'd know, when all you've ever tried to do is destroy."

"You've such a black and white perception about my character," he deadpanned, almost amused.

"Only because you've always given me reason to," she snapped. "What more could I possibly need to know about you when I can't stand your very presence?"

"The fact that, from the beginning, I would have rather rotted in an Arendellean dungeon for eternity rather than be taken back to the Southern Isles."

And here they were, back at square one. Elsa still couldn't fathom what had been so unbearable about his home, even if that throne had never been his destiny in the first place. "How did you escape?" she asked instead, the resentment permeating her voice.

Hans shrugged. "After a while, my brothers stopped keeping as many eyes on me. My presence just quietly became less than nothing and I eventually took advantage of that by stowing away on a departing trade ship. By that point I was practically living in the barn as a labor boy, anyway."