Prince Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles (princehans) wrote in witchinghour, @ 2014-06-06 17:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: prince hans, character: queen elsa |
I can't wait to get away from you
Who: Prince Hans and Queen Elsa
Where: Sleepy Hollow's fine dining~~
When: Friday night (June 6), after Elsa's journal entry
What: Two best friends running into each other and being overjoyed about it. Obviously.
Warnings: Potential language
Status: Complete
Hans wasn't exactly thrilled about the last entry that Elsa had inputted into the machine he'd found next to him when he'd woken up in Marrowood, but hey. What was he going to do? After everything that had occurred between the three of them, he would've been genuinely surprised if either of them had kept the events to themselves.
There was something that did bother him, though. Hans had seen enough of this realm (and read the previous entries) to understand that it was dangerous, in every sense of the word. The recent talk of possession, Furthers, different realms and spirits -- these were all things that Hans could not combat on his own. Though he was in no hurry to make it back to the Southern Isles, Millicent's offhand comment about Arendelle did make him wonder: If he could go back home before Elsa and Anna did, could he have another shot at ruling the land? He knew the people of Arendelle weren't exactly thrilled with him, these days, but with their ruling family completely wiped out -- what else could they do?
Perhaps Millicent could be an ally. That man who'd accused Elsa of being a snake -- him too. Perhaps there was still hope.
He allowed himself these positive thoughts as he reluctantly made his way to the hotel's 'restaurant' for another serving of their most dubious food. The place was surprisingly crowded, considering the state of the derelict town, and Hans accepted a bowl of questionable stew before he moved into the dining area, looking for a place to sit.
The floor plan was poorly laid out, with tables crowded together, and Hans balked at the sight of Elsa -- of course -- and stepped back just in time to avoid spilling his stew on her front. He took a few more steps backward for good measure, knowing just what she was capable of, and set his jaw as he reminded himself to be polite. It was his best chance at escaping unscathed. "Good evening."