I meant to ask earlier, but can you write a drabble? Specifically... DRUNK HANS. YES! Like, it's after he and Elsa go to visit his family and they get drunk together.
/// WOW, it has taken me forever to finally get this to you, but here it is! This has to be the single most insane thing i have ever written for the Iceburns pairing, but I loved it. Enjoy!
Two noble figures strode down the hall away from the party, one a tall and handsome ginger haired man, the other an alabaster beauty with eyes of ice. They were smiling, waving politely to the other guest, which about seventy percent of them were related to the male, but did not break stride as they left the gala and headed in the direction of their temporary quarters in the palace. The man opened the door and let her enter in first, then followed suite. Once they were both inside and the door was closed, they shared glances, and their plastered on smiles crumbled immediately.
“They are family, my love.”
Elsa collapsed into a chair and sighed, a throbbing vein on the side of her head pounding from each and every irritating moment she had to spend with his brothers and their families. While Hans was right when he had told her they were not all bad, between the sheer amount of energy, general attitude, comments made about her and her husband, and the doglike persistence they had about badgering her as she was the “newest” addition to their “family” but also sported the title of queen and the powers of ice, she barely had a moment to breathe. Hans much to his credit, was partly numb to the whole affair from continued proximity toward it, though the offhanded comments made about Elsa’s… tradable goods, and questions like “how did you get her?! I thought you tried to kill her once?” ate at him more than he cared to admit.
Elsa reached over to a bottle of wine she had brought along with them as Hans went over to her and started massaging her shoulders. “Are you sure you should be drinking, my snow angel? You seemed to have had quite a bit already at the party.”
Elsa looked up and glared at Hans, who simply shut his mouth and kept massaging. She poured herself a glass, and as she sipped, something occurred to her. “Hans… why is it I have never seen you drink at any of these parties? In fact, I don’t believe I have ever seen you drink much at all since we have been together.”
She felt Hans tense up for the slightest of seconds, but he replied with a smooth smile and did not stop rubbing her ache away. “Alcohol and I do not get along.”
Her eyebrows raised and tilted her head to look him in the face. “You do not get along? What do you mean by that?”
Hans suddenly seemed deeply fascinated with the lovely shades of color on the walls and ceiling.
He stopped massaging and sighed, sitting down beside her as he explained himself. “Alright… when I was younger, I got drunk a couple of times and… bad things happened.”
“Oh, you know… broken vases, incessant sobbing, all out fights among my brothers and I, stuff like that. It did not take me long to cut back majorly on the amount I allowed myself.”
“Wait, when did this all occur?”
“Oh… when I was sixteen or so.”
Elsa could not help but giggle into the back of her hand a bit at the idea of Hans becoming some sort of crazy drunk. Hans glared weakly at her but was used to her amused laughter at his expense.
“Hans, love…” she put a hand on his arm. “I am sure that you will be completely fine drinking a bit with me. After all, it has been years and I am sure you will handle it fine. Both of us are tired and we deserve a bit of rest, don’t you think?”
Hans appeared skeptical, but he could not hide how tired he was of being surrounded by his family again. Elsa poured him a glass and handed it to him, a small smirk on her face knowing she already won this little battle. He glared at it for all of a second, shrugged, and then took it.
Elsa stared at the warm fire, feeling a little silly and warm on the inside herself from all the glasses she had sipped. She had lost track of how much they had drank, but she knew her limit and had stopped short of it. Her gaze drifted up from the fire to look at the handsome features of her husband, but he was not in the chair. She sat up and looked around. He was not anywhere in the room in fact.
“Maybe he decided to talk to his brothers again.”
She got up, feeling fine on her feet, and walked out to the family gala that was still going on. She scanned the room for… ah, there he was! Erickson, Hans’ third oldest brother and a mountain of a man. She walked through the gathering straight toward him, the shine of her dress catching his eye as she approached.
“Oh, Queen Elsa…” he bowed on one knee and arose. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“If you would, I need to know if you have seen my husband. We were drinking and…” Erickson’s eyes grew wide as saucer plates, causing her to stop and become very concerned.
“Yes… wine. What is the problem with that?”
“Erickson, you look disturbed…” Another brother, Johannes, came up from behind with a big smile, stopped, bowed, respectfully to Elsa, and continued. “What seems to be the problem?”
Immediately, Johannes eyes shot wide open and the smile died. He spoke in a terrified, hushed voice. ‘We must alert the guards!”
“Will any of you explain to me what is going on?!” Elsa growled to the two men. They both looked at each other, and right before Erickson could utter a sound…
“IN THE FACE OF TYRANNY, HE STANDS!”
All eyes turned to the second floor dominating the ballroom, then gasp of surprise and twelve male groans of misery rang out form the crowd. Elsa looked up to see Hans, clothed in only his tight black pants that he was wearing earlier, his bare torso and feet showing to the world. He balanced on a railing overlooking the crowd, a heroic and slightly intoxicated expression on his face. A wooden sword was in his right hand, valiantly held up and drunkenly pointing at a small gathering of the two oldest brothers in the center of the room.
“At least he is wearing pants.” Erickson mumbled as Johannes’ face fell into his hands in defeat.
Elsa stood frozen in her spot, not sure whether to laugh out loud or yell at Hans.
“HANS GET DOWN FROM THERE!” King Otto called out to his youngest brother.
“Nay I say Villain!” He swung his sword around and nearly tipped off of the railing, but caught himself on a drape that was connected to the center of the ceiling. “I have come to undo you, and all that you have done! No longer shall the children cry out from the streets, sick of rye bread and unfair taxes on rubber duckies! No longer will they cry out for justice from your cruel hand!”
Elsa just kept staring, completely blank on what to do in such an instance. She noticed the various reactions hummed through the room, from giggling to downright exasperation and mumbling. Surprisingly, none of them looked surprised by this as much as she thought they would, which left her wondering how often this happened when he did drink a great amount. Johannes tapped her shoulder and pointed out of the room. “I think it is best we handle this, as he has been known to …”
“JOHANNES!” Hans cried out as he noticed his wife being touched. “Lay not your hand upon her! I have seen how thou lookest upon her fine tushie, and I will not abide by it any longer!”
He tied the long drape tightly around his waist, and jumped down from the railing, swinging magnificently over the crowd and straight at Elsa and Johannes, sword flailing around as he cried out “FOR THE SOUTHERN ISLES!”
The crowd understandably parted and Johannes hit the floor in a last ditch effort to avoid the oncoming Hans. Elsa had jumped out of the way as soon as she saw him come swinging, and watched helplessly as her husband cried out against the oppression of the lettuce plant throughout the kingdom. Otto fumed from a corner but directed the twins to guide the ladies out of the ballroom as the men tried to form some mass of resistance to the swinging terror that was Drunk Hans. Elsa stood by a pillar, watching as Hans swung back around at the gathering of well-dressed men sword first, instantly causing them to part out as he gave another battle cry in a mock German accent.
“Ve will not tolerate your poor fashion choices anymore, King Schnitzel Britches!”
Erickson looked up from his safe position on the floor and crept toward the Queen, sliding up beside her and watching the madness unfurl as Hans swung back and forth.
“Has this happened before?!” She asked him.
“Not to this extent! It has been years since he has been drunk, and back then we could easily pin him!”
Hans swung back up to his lofty railing, but guards were there to meet him. With one hand he grasped the railing and with the other he battled them off with his sword. “The King sends his evil minions! Ha! You shall not catch me now, for I can fly!”
And once again, he proceeded to swing across the ballroom full force kicking off the railing, but took aim at King Otto this time. Otto, much to his credit, waited until the last second before dodging to the left, leaving Hans sword impaled into the turkey on a dining table.
“DRATS! You have not defeated me so easily!” Hans swung back as a group of elderly family members tried to mob him and proceeded to charge headfirst into the mass to get his blade back. He untied himself as he reached maximum velocity and fell headlong into them, scattering them like an untied bag of marbles hitting the ground. He jerked his sword back from the slaughtered bird and stood heroically upon the table full of cooked animals, pudding, and greenery, as several of his brothers surrounded him.
Elsa just shook her head as Erickson left to join the fray.
“Wait till Anna and Kristoff hear about this.”
A few bothers leaped in unarmed, but were smacked repeatedly with the flat side of his wooden sword until they were forced to retreat. King Otto, disheveled from the madness of running around and barely being run through by Hans, jumped at Hans from behind. Hans ducked, causing Otto to fall into the charging mass of the older family members who had just picked themselves up
Then Elsa noticed… they were laughing (all except for Otto, but he was a bit angry at the moment). All the brothers were having a great time trying to get Hans to stop his drunken rampage. This was fun for them, and even if it sort of surprised her, she could see why. Erickson chuckled deeply as he arrived, his baritone easily recognizable from across the room as he picked up the twins (Anderson and Alexander), one in each hand, and tossed them simultaneously on one side of the table, their combined weight launching Hans off of it like a catapult and sending him smack dab into another table full of fruits and vegetables.
Hans jumped up, undeterred and probably somewhat incoherent to the pain in his current state, and flashed a lopsided grin at Elsa before the brothers caught up with him, receiving faces full of vegetables and fruit for their effort from Hans. The guards had made their way down but settled for helping the old men out of the room, knowing full well the futility of joining in the mess.
Marius, Hans’ twelfth oldest brother, grabbed a tall candle holder (without the candles) and used it to push Hans closer to the larger mass of brothers. Hans smirked, and just as they all launched at him, he jumped straight up and landed on them before jumping once more to get off of them. He staggered over to Elsa, sweaty, shirtless, and breathing heavily as the brothers untangled themselves in a desperate bid to get at him. She smiled in an amused and disbelieving manner as he stopped in front of her to catch his breath.
“I have… overthrown the monarchy. I establish you… the new Queen of the Southern Isles and… I am going to fall on you.”
Then he landed face first into her… well, chest. Thankfully, the pillar supported both of them and he had not fallen too hard on them to hurt. She took him in her arms and just shook her head.
“Did I ever tell you that you have perfect breast?”
“I think we need to never give you any alcohol ever again.”
