thecapitol | He ran into my sword.

WHO| Hans and Open
WHAT| Hans the Triumphant Victor avoids his brothers and tattles on them to whoever he can.
WHEN| Anytime between the arrival of guests and the now.
WHERE| Around the tower, out and about.
WARNINGS| Hans being Hans.

The Mini Arena had been a challenge jarring enough to shake even Hans to his nasty core. He'd survived, not without getting his hands dirty, though. It isn't the perspective he wanted to give people, but he can easily act under the impression that he was thoroughly rattled by the threat of perma-death. Of course, that had been a complete fabrication in order to throw all of the tributes under a bus. Nobody really came out looking clean, apart from the idiots who sacrificed themselves for others. It's been awkward to say the least, Hans hasn't had the same presence around the tower as he might have. He's slowly withdrawn himself more and more until this damn place put the final nail in his coffin.

Brothers. Two of them. The absolute last people he ever wanted to see along with the ten others. He can only be thankful for the fact that they haven't utterly tarnished his reputation because they seem hellbent on pretending he's a non-entity. He's not sure what he finds more infuriating, but he loathes to see them enjoying themselves in a place he'd slowly begun to make his mark on. If he were a cat he'd be pressing his face against everything here, instead he's opted for a more rodent like approach to the situation and has taken to sneaking around.

He isn't avoiding anyone but them, so if someone were to see him traipsing around he'd happily make an approach in order to try rebuild that sociable reputation. If the conversation allows, and it surely will, he has a smorgasbord of tragic stories about his brothers in order to shed a little light on why he is the saddest and most put upon Prince in all of the Southern Isles.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's not difficult to see that she's thrown, that he's making her question her approach and reconsider her opinions. It's a conflicting and confusing situation to be sure, one full of justifications and loopholes he can use. There's an abundance of things he could do or say to raise her opinion of him, but it's difficult to sway opinions on a larger scale than that. He sleeps fine at night, he doesn't pity the man he killed. They all ought to be thankful they're alive and think nothing more of it, but they aren't all the sheep the Capitol wish to create.

"Hans." He corrects in a soft voice when she uses his title again. It flatters him, but it distances them, he doesn't want to be distanced by her. "Call me Hans, please. You're making me feel like a stranger." His voice strains a little as he makes an effort to keep his tone gentle and polite, as if there's a little desperation in there.

"It was no more traumatic for me than anyone, I'm sure. I would like not to think about it, but I can't help thinking that I could never forgive myself if you died and I lived on." He widens his eyes a little, looking worriedly at her. "It was far too close for comfort- Anna and I- we could have lost you forever. You shouldn't worry for me, I should be worrying for you."

He's not sure if it will work, but he's trying his best to guide the conversation to her and away from himself and his actions in the Arena.

Hans.

This entire time, she's avoided calling him that because it feels too personal. At first, it had been a sign of respect, something as a Queen she ought to do. But then it became a way of keeping him at arm's length, to avoid growing too attached to him- for various reasons. Anna, primarily. And because she doesn't trust herself around him. He makes her feel things she's never felt before, and she doesn't want to do something she would regret.

His little comment on making him feel like a stranger has her closing her eyes, looking away. "For a moment, it felt like you were..."

That's her fault, of course. She sounds guilty about it, so it's obvious she doesn't blame him for it. Her guilt only grows as he mentions Anna. Sacrificing herself for Harley had been a spur of the moment, perhaps irrational decision. They'd been told dying meant dying forever, and she'd thrown her life away. Was it out of concern for Harley, or a quick way to ensure she never hurt Anna again? She doesn't know.

"You don't have to worry about me," she says with a shake of her head. "I'm alive, that's... what happened in the arena doesn't matter anymore." It's a rather sharp turn from her thoughts previously, but it's now as if she's trying to justify her own actions. "Maybe we should both just try and forget about it all."

There's a flash of hurt in his eyes that she'll probably miss looking away. Without her seeing it, it's more than likely sincere. He's not sure why it cuts so deep, he could care less about her, he was happy to let her meet his own end without her. It's just the plain and simple fact that being nothing to someone, being someone not worth remembering, was a feeling he knew and hated far too much to dismiss it.

"This place has that effect on people." His voice is a little stiff, but his eyes are expressive enough. "We can't start turning on each other- or pulling away when things get hard. That's what they want, they want to turn us into different people. Nothing would make us stranger than avoiding the only people who know what home is." He doesn't seem particularly happy with the way she's trying to end the conversation, but he's not really inclined to push it much further. "We can't keep forgetting forever, we just have to learn to move forward and remember our mistakes so we don't make them again. We can worry about each other, that's what friends do."

It's good that she can't see the hurt in his eyes. If she could, then she would feel much worse than she already does. Frankly, she's tired of feeling bad. It feels like whenever she gets a handle and clings onto a positive feeling, it's ripped away pretty thoroughly. She would love nothing more than to go back to when she wasn't questioning Hans, or thinking ill of him for what he had to do.

It's the stiffness in his voice that causes Elsa to look at him, and she notes the expressiveness of his eyes. It melts some of the metaphoric ice that's forming and trying to make her dismiss it all. As he continues speaking, she feels her arguments and inclination to dismiss it fading, realizing that he's right. It is what they would want, and it's not healthy. What's more is that the familiar stirring in her stomach, the almost giddy-like feeling she has- or had- around him before is returning. Slowly, but it's forming.

"You're right," she says quietly. "You're right, and I'm sorry. You would think I would have learned that by now, but it's easy to forget, sometimes."

This time, it isn't Hans who has to initiate it. Before she can really think it through, she's hugging him again. "The first mistake we should learn from is being separated." Her hug tightens a little. "I miss spending time with you," she admits after a few seconds. "I think it was the only time I ever felt happy here."

The turn around is obvious to Hans, and it's lightening his mood considerably. In appearances, anyway. A slow smile tugs at his lips when she says the magic words. He's right, of course he's right, because he makes himself right. It's a foolproof method, obviously.

"We're both right, Elsa. We both make mistakes and we both need to learn from them." His smile widens, seeing that she has most certainly eased up her tension. What he doesn't expect, and it's not often he's this thrown, is for her to initiate a hug like that. He doesn't hesitate to wind his arms around her when she gets close, tightening his arms to match her enthusiasm.

"And I'm so happy to hear that.. So then we should spend as much time together as we can, then." He urges, trying to discreetly hint that he won't be there to stick together with her next arena.

Though the situation had been heavy moments before, Elsa is starting to feel much lighter than she's felt in a while. She and Hans are close again, all is right in the world. She's very glad to hear that he agrees with her- though she doesn't need that reminder. She knows full well that come next arena, all of her allies are going to be mentors, instead.

In a way, it's comforting to know they won't be in danger. But at the same time, she's afraid of being alone. She won't have anyone to watch out for her- at least not directly. There's only so much a mentor can do outside of the arena.

Either way, she gives him a nod, as she pulls back. "We should, most definitely." She gives him a smile, though it's tinged a little with sadness. "Though... I am getting tired, so maybe we should start spending time together all of the time tomorrow." She gives him a small laugh, though she sounds tired. The truth is, she's feelings'd out and needs time to recover. "Can we see each other tomorrow?"

He ran into my sword.

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