Anonymous asked: ""Oh noooo, a dragon is blocking the path to the treasure!" Anna cried melodramatically as she rounded the corner, adjusting her grip on the two five-year-olds she was holding under her arms. "It's up to you two! Burn his eyebrows off! Give 'im a brain freeze!" She ordered playfully, jostling the twins and making guttural "pew-pew!" sounds until Amelia and Alexander were squealing with delight again. /loveisanopenflame"

{♔} —- Hans arched a brow as his sister-in-law raced around the corner, his children tucked neatly beneath her arms. He stopped neatly in place and folded both hands behind his back, perfectly composed at Anna encouraged the twins to slay ‘the dragon.’

It was still strange, even after all these years, to see Anna with his children. It was like watching two very different worlds collide: his mistakes of the past, and his hopes for the future.

But strange as it might have been for Hans, he did not want to stand in the way of their fun. He bowed his head and surrendered his children to Anna’s game.

“By all means,” he said cordially, stepping aside to clear Anna’s path. He gestured broadly with one arm, as if to beckon the three of them on their way. “Don’t let me come between you and your treasure.”

“You have to fight us, Papa!” Amelia giggled, squirming playfully against her aunt. Hans was silent for a moment, his gaze flicking ever briefly to Anna’s face.

The King could never be sure where he stood with Anna. His marriage to Elsa was something the sisters had discussed in great length, but Hans and Anna had never really…

Well, they simply weren’t on speaking terms.

Even something as harmless and innocent as a child’s game could dredge up unhappy feelings between them. It made Hans think of sock-sliding and chocolate fondue, an evening he and Anna were probably both happier to leave behind.

So the King half-smiled for his daughter, and gestured down the hall once more.


“The dragon is bested,” he said quietly. “You are free to continue your journey.”


Fjord horse by ElmarBayer


Fjord horse by ElmarBayer


I’m going to crawl into bed an sob.

Anonymous asked: "Thea couldn't help but growl at her parents when she watched them return with Issadora. She felt like she was being replaced."

{♔} —- “Now Thea, that’s no way to treat your sister,” Hans said gently. His words were drowned out, however, by another growl—not Thea’s, but Isadora’s.

The small princess clung to her long-lost father, her spindly arms wrapped possessively around her neck. Though Hans had feared that she would not want to return home with her human parents, Isadora had been quick to “claim” both him and Anna. She likely felt a comfort and safety in their warm embrace, their fires calling out to her own.

Whatever the reason, Isadora seemed just as eager to share her parents as Thea was. Hans sighed heavily and squared his jaw, determined to make this work.

"Thea, dearest, I’ve a gift for you," he said. Using one arm to hold Isadora to his side, Hans reached a free hand into his pocket a removed a small, square box. Inside was a sparkling gem, something eye-catching meant to delight Thea’s love for things that shine. It was just a small token, really, something he’d purchased to show Thea that he still loved her. He’d done the same thing when Isadora was born, and his eldest daughter feared that she was no longer special in her parents’ eyes.

Hans wiggled the pretty box enticingly before Thea’s eyes, beckoning her closer to himself and Isadora.

"It’s for you,” he repeated. “Come see!”



     The moment they entered the library, the lust in the air became even more palpable. A part of her almost wanted to tell him to leave the door unlocked. There was a thrill in the possibility of getting caught. It made her heart beat even faster, her body shudder even stronger. New highs were reached when there was a chance they would be caught. It was a thrill to know that they were so overcome by lust that they did not seem to care that they may or may not be caught. 

    A soft whine escaped her lips. Was it so wrong she wanted him at that moment? The ice in her veins seemed to swell and course through her body at an even faster rate. It seemed to act like fire at that moment and once again, she wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms. Gooseflesh formed as she watched his gaze ; he looked ready to devour her. The thought made shivers roll down her spine. 

    It took everything in her not to push him onto the table and have her way with him. The pride that sparkled in his eyes only made things even harder. She knew exactly what he was thinking at that moment. Even without seeing his emerald green eyes, his fires would have told her anyway ; her ice was responding to his fire as it always did. 

    At his command, she could only smirk. This was their song and dance ; their constant battle. While she did not mind being controlled in bed, the power play between them was just as arousing. Loving as they were, there were times when lust took over and their passions guided them. 

    ❝If you want them off, Your Majesty,❞ she pulled away from him, a smirk on her face, ❝you’ll have to remove them yourself.❞   

{♔} —- Hans wasn’t sure what he wanted more: Elsa’s compliance, or her defiance. Both stoked his fires in different ways, and he watched Elsa with bated breath, eager to see which role she would take.

Defiance won the day. Hans made a smirk that mirrored Elsa’s own—he could work with that.

His gloves burnt away with a burst of flame, a bright, sudden flash of fire. Heat flared between them ever briefly, and in the wake of Elsa’s surprised, Hans gripped her hips and pulled her body flush against his own. His bare hands tugged at the fabric of her gown until he was able to slip one beneath, where his fingers quickly traveled up her thigh and gripped Elsa’s lacy underclothes.

Against, his hand flared with heat—not enough to harm his wife, but enough to burn a hole in her underclothes. In but a moment, Elsa’s underwear had torn away in his grasp. He pulled the ruined garment from her body and reduced it to ash before her eyes.

Her dress was still quite intact. Hans had no intention of ruining Elsa’s gown, since she would not be able to change her clothes here in the library. But her undergarments were gone, burnt away like the King’s own gloves—when they finished their tryst, Elsa would have to walk the halls with nothing beneath her skirt but bare skin.

"You should have done as I asked…" he growled playfully. "Or I might have let you keep your underclothes…"

Anonymous asked: "His gleeful screams echoed around the palace hall. Giggles echoed around them as well. "I love you Papa!" Henry cried, a grin on his face. "You're my hero, Papa.""

{♔} —- Hans beamed at that. His heart felt warmer, lighter—both incredibly happy, and incandescently sad.

If only it could always be this easy. If only he could sweep Elisabeth into his arms and win her love with a spin about the courtyard, or make her laugh as Henry laughed now. There was such an innocent simplicity to childhood that Hans ached to relive with his older children, but would treasure with Henry all the more.

"I love you too, little one," he said.


hanslittlethief // continued


The little thief never learned that fighting fire with fire wasn’t wise nor worthwhile. When Hans threw open the door to the guesthouse, she automatically bristled. She could have been in any manner of undress.

He was polite and thoughtful to everyone but her, though she supposed she’d given him plenty of reason. The little thief thought they’d made progress lately, however, and found herself enraged to have it all set back so easily.

At the accusation, she did more than bristle. She practically snarled. “He had but a bite of half a lemon with the seeds plucked out. How dare you come barging in her with some half-baked lies to throw into my face!”

Despite her anger, the woman was already donning an evening cloak for the nights still held a bitter bite in the wind. Though Hans likely believed otherwise, she knew quite a bit about horses and had a substantial amount of affection for Sitron.

"From whose hands did you eat that up?" she demanded, already pushing past him. If she had to guess, it would be that rotten stable hand she’d snapped at earlier in the week for feeding the non-working pleasure horses too much grain without even a flake of hay. Men didn’t take well to the demands of women.

{♔} —- The King visibly faltered, taken aback by how fiercely the little thief defended herself. At once he felt small and foolish, like a child throwing a tantrum. Anger and embarrassment flashed through his veins, and as the thief pushed past him, his hand shot out and grasped her upper arm.

"Don’t you dare walk away from me!” he cried.

Perhaps he should have apologized for blaming her—after all, Hans was just as disappointed as she for this lapse in their newfound trust. He hated feeling this angry with her, but the King was much too stubborn to feel remorse, not when Sitron’s life was still in danger.

"My horse is sick and I don’t know why," he said. "The stableboys said that you fed him lemons, but if that’s not true, then what did Sitron eat?”

He didn’t care who was to blame. The thief, the stable boys—Hans was not in search of someone to punish, only the true cause of his horse’s illness. Perhaps the thief did not understand the sincerity of his concern.

Please,” he said, though there was nothing polite about the fervent word. It was forceful and angry, heated and half-mad. “I’ve had him nearly all my life. I was there when he was born.”

Sitron’s mother had died, just like Hans’. He wasn’t supposed to survive without her, but the young prince fed him from bottle, raised him to be strong.

"If you fed him anything, I need to know. If I’m going to save him, I need to know how he got sick.”

posted 9 hours ago

Anonymous asked: "Henry's forehead furrowed ; his curiosity at even higher levels than normal. His tiny hand squeezed his father's. ❝But why were you getting married to Auntie Anna? And why didn't you? And... um... why did it take so long for you and Mama to love each other?❞"

{♔} —- Hans was beginning to regret his offhanded joke: Don’t ask how we met! If he’d known how eagerly his son would have attacked the subject, he probably wouldn’t have said anything at all. Still, he listened patiently to the onslaught of questions, and when Henry seemed quite finished, the King took a very deep breath.

"Aunt Anna and I were going to get married because… we loved each other. We didn’t marry because your mother forbid the union, and because, well… we soon realized that we wanted different things. We fell out of love as quickly as we’d fallen into it.”


Though that was not entirely true, it was the simplest explanation he could think of for such a small child. His older children knew the truth, but Henry… Henry was still too young to know that his father had nearly killed his mother.

Someday, Hans would tell him. He would sit down with Henry as he had sat down with Elisabeth and the twins, and spin the entire tale both his actions in Arendelle, and how he ascended to the Southern Isles throne.

But not now. No, instead Hans would treasure his time, his few short, precious years to enjoy his son’s ignorance. For now, but not much longer, Henry saw him as a hero, and Hans selfishly wished it would stay that way forever.

"Come here, little one," Hans said, stopping suddenly. He scooped Henry upright and settled the small boy on his shoulders. "Hang on—Papa’s got you!"

Anonymous asked: "Curiosity colored his face and he looked up at his father. ❝Why not, Papa?❞ While he has heard countless stories of his parents while they were engaged and while they were married, he never, once heard the story of how they met or what came after. ❝Mama doesn't like ta talk 'bout it either...❞"

{♔} —- “It’s just not a very good story,” the King shrugged. “And not really a happy one, either.”

Hans hoped that would be enough to satisfy his young son, but Henry only gave his that wide, curious stare. The King laughed again and shook his head, gently squeezing Henry’s hand as they strolled down the hall.

"Well, let me think…"


"Your mother and I first met on the day of her coronation," Hans narrated. "At first, I was just another face in the crowd to her… Someone to bow at and send on his way. Mama and I didn’t speak to each other until Aunt Anna introduced us…"

Hans grinned at his son, his voice dropping as though he were sharing some great, well-hidden secret.

"Aunt Anna and I were engaged,” he whispered. “We wanted Mama to bless our marriage.”

Henry’s eyes widened at this revelation, and Hans shrugged again, dismissing the rest of the tale.

"That’s why Mama and I don’t like to talk about it," he explained. "We didn’t fall in love for a long, long time, and it makes us sad to remember those early days."

Anonymous asked: "A secret smile appeared on the prince's face. Mama already told him where all the chocolates are. It was their little secret. ❝Yes! Can we do both Papa? Then you and Mama can tell me more stories!❞"

{♔} —- Hans laughed at that, making a low, rumbling sound that shook his broad shoulders. The smile on Henry’s face was precious; though perhaps he would grow to be as well composed as Hans or Elisabeth, the boy was so small that he could conceal nothing. Hans knew, just by looking at him, that he had a secret.

The King suspected that his wife had already shown Henry several of her hiding places, and if he cared to, Hans could probably coax his son to reveal their location. But he didn’t dare. Best to let mother and son have their little secret—after all, father and son could bond in different ways.

"Yes, I think that’s a very good plan," he agreed. Lowering Henry to the ground, Hans got to his feet and lead the small boy by the hand. "Mama and I know lots of good stories… Just don’t ask how we met!"