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

Part 9

She thought about the memory where he'd rejected Anna: "As heir, Elsa was preferable, of course."

What if?

And yet, here they were, confronting this mystery together, because their conflicts intertwined, overlapped.

"I had an inkling," Hans confessed. "But from what I was told no portrait of you or Anna existed—and when I ran into Anna first instead..."

"You went with it," Elsa finished. "Because any scenario where you went back to the Southern Isles would be considered a failure."

"To both my mother and myself. Arendelle was my out of that trapped kingdom. I'd always been preparing for it—though not willingly."

The thought made her sick to her stomach, and it was clear that her questions would not have answers—unless she was willing to dive back down there.

There had to be another way.

"You said what the dark memory held had to do with magic, right?"

"From what I could gather," said Hans, nodding. "I don't know the creature she'd been talking to, though. My mother never gave any indication that even she believed in magic at all."

Elsa stroked her chin, trying to think. "Perhaps... it was some sort of troll," she said. "The ones I know of exist in their own community just north of Arendelle, in the Valley of Rock. Their powers are mysterious, but they can vaguely see the future—maybe it's the same for trolls near the Southern Isles, if that's who your mother sought out?"

It could explain a plethora of things, if that were the case: his mother's numerous and fruitful pregnancies; how they were all boys; the reason why all her sons married into different nobility in neighboring kingdoms; Hans being unable to react to the spirits.

"It's definitely possible." Hans looked longingly over at the one memory he couldn't follow.

"Well, then, let's head over there," she decided, starting to walk off.

"Wait," Hans declared.

Elsa turned. "What?" Did he really think he could find all those answers here? Sure, they'd discovered quite a bit of his past, which was messy and sad, and muddled and intertwined with hers, but the trolls were the best lead now.

"I... want to stay here for a bit," he said slowly. "Relive some of the happier memories—there's so few of them."

"Hans, I don't know if we have time for—"

"Please, Elsa."

She'd never heard him beg before. It was enough to get her to consider, for a moment.

"I don't know if I'll ever come here again."

Was he guilting her? Maybe. But he had a point. And from what she'd seen, there weren't a lot of happy memories, so it probably wouldn't eat up too much time.

"Fine," she conceded with a sigh, turning back. "Maybe you can translate everything Moana is saying. I like that girl already, and I can't even understand her."

Turned out, Moana was feisty. Whatever Hans translated was her quickly snapping at him for not budging, or getting something on first try. It made Elsa wonder what she looked like, without the sheen of snow—especially that hair.

She watched Hans's features soften, opening him up more. There was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his hands no longer clenched, nothing tensed up. Like a reminder that through all the bad, all the terrible things she'd seen from his life (both what he'd done, and what had happened to him), not everything had been so awful, though the moments were few and far between.