Paper Thin Lies

A sudden slurp of surprise resounded from him as his shoulders lurched a bit and he sputtered, heaving forth a barrage of coughs. Nearly slamming down his drink, he pressed his previous eating cloth against his lips to stifle the unmannerly sounds he was uttered, herbal gaze upon Merida as good as he could manage it through his shakes. Her greeting was surprising and he finally subsided his fit with a slight, princely dab to his lips once more before swiping some tears that lingered atop his lashes.

“Merida…” he began, confused at her sudden friendly greeting or perhaps that was normal for these types and for a moment he eyed her suspiciously as if her motives had hidden, ulterior daggers. Hearing the sound of his fake alias was enough to cause him to frown a bit but he managed to smear it away with a pointed smile, one quite charming and reserved. At the prompting of the inn-keep, he perked up a bit with a curious expression.

“He almost turned me away until I mentioned you two… Can you believe it? He said something along the lines that I looked lost,” a sound akin to laughter bubbled forth as he remembered the front-desk person nearly telling him to pack up. He didn’t take this place as exclusive since most patrons seemed ill-mannered and rather criminal-ish. In theory, perhaps he fit there if not for the combed features and rather poised mannerisms he couldn’t shake. Beneath the table rested a peculiar sword that more or less was concealed by his accented cloak, a distinct blade only used by those of the Westergard household however it would take a keen eye to decipher that.

“Yes, it’s thanks to you I was able to get a room here. I'm in your debt, Merida,” a grateful softness touched his face as he peppered her with sugary happiness. While genuine, it was a habit of his to seem a bit happier and nicer than he likely was on the inside.

“To what do I owe this pleasure? Of seeing you again, I mean,” discarding his meal, he took a lean against his palm so he may study the girl’s pointed smile. Her hair was like a sea of churning fire, cascading like spun yarn. She seemed absent, for the most part for the past couple of days and he was beginning to deduce a sort of particular atmosphere that resided within this inn. Perhaps they were in cahoots with a gang, or something far more complicated, Hans was quite interested but for now his interest was stolen by this bubbly girl.

As the situation lingered and her blatant curl of a smile smeared wide along her pale features, Hans began to suspect something. Blinking, he had a fragment of a squint, his smile still somewhat remained as his lips somewhat froze along with his scrutinizing scan. Green gaze fluttered along her freckled cheeks, following the length of curls only to wander back towards her turquoise gaze, momentarily distracted by the twists of fire. Her tones seemed distracted or disinterested in his response despite have asked and he offered a look of puzzlement, perhaps caught off guard by her difference in behavior.

The sounds of her tapered fingers rattling against the table caused a firm bolt of electricity to jolt up his spine, the anxiety causing him to pull taut. As of now, he had no reason to suspect her but she was certainly before suspicious which made his lips frown ever so slightly as if mildly hurt.

“Learn about me?” he parroted, ginger brows craning down in a look of sadness as if vaguely displeased by this. Perhaps he should have been happy for someone to take interest in him but her weird aura was causing a flare of nervousness to flutter within his chest like a hummingbird’s wing. Then she prompted forth his brothers and immediately a distinct displeasure struck his face, perhaps horror churned over it as if he just suspected them around. Trying to regain a logical sense of composure, he titled his head as if it hadn’t dawned on him.

“Twins?” he wasn’t a twin but he did have two brothers that were and another who vaguely resembled himself with trimmed sideburns and shorter hair. However, she would never have known that unless… Perhaps a fragment of realization set in and his peachy complexion paled considerably as his tongue dabbed out, suddenly parched. “No… None around,” the gears churned and he shifted in his seat to scoot a tad bit from the girl as if he was growing uncomfortable. She seemed readied like a taut bow, eyeing him down with some sort of certainty.

“Why do you ask?” he was looking at her face, forcing a smile as if completely unfazed despite the hammering within his ribs. He hoped she didn’t hear his heart or the mild shake that caused his words to stir along his tongue. His mind was whirling as if readying for any explanation she could have asked, all lies. However, there was a sort of lingering feeling that gnawed at him to spill the truth.

Eyes like dazzling emeralds shone with a confused, uncertain light. Hans could feel this was leading up to something and managed to maintain a casual expression despite his nervousness. He was trying to turn over a new leaf, no more lying and no deception but maintaining your true character was vulnerable. He resisted the urge to completely swathe over an entirely new persona; he could probably twirl his tongue and talk his way out of this quite easily. There was a moment in him that wondered if he should or even can at this point.

Expression smoothed over, he looked growing calmness as if he was completely okay and unware of something she was about to propose. Beneath the loud voices of surrounding patrons, he heard distinct shuffling sounds from beneath the table. Paper. Hans’s gaze briefly darted downwards before he busied his eyes to look over her shining eyes. After blatant lingering, he spoke no words and allowed her to carry on her sort of interrogation. He knew if he didn’t interrupt, she’ll surely spill forth her goal all along and spill she did. Paper flung atop the table and his gaze lowered to stare at the visage of his own, still adorned in the princely attire he wore the day of his arrest. Soft eyes remained planted upon it, a twinge of displeasure and self-loathing churning along his nose line.

Perhaps it was all over, she likely had the officials’ just outside the tavern now and he’ll be whisked away back to his kingdom. Royalty had ‘privileges’, he wouldn’t be sent to jail, merely sent to his family to deal with him however they saw fit. Perhaps he’ll get disowned, or worse. A fragment of fear flared within his eyes as a sudden urge to not relinquish himself so easy sparked as well, gaze sliding to the girl. However, she didn’t appear as though she was ready to hand him over, she was expecting something and it was clear she was offended.

The truth perhaps, an apology, or all of the above. Han’s lips curled beneath his teeth as he bit into it with such uncertainty. How easy was it to explain you lied because you’re a wanted man? A man who nearly killed two people. Gaze lowered to stare at his palms, his flesh was exposed and it felt fitting. Standing suddenly he looked towards her with a new expression, no honey-coated smile, no immense bubbliness, just an expression of seriousness.

“I’ll tell you… Just not here,” and he gestured her to follow to his room.

Her curls lashed like whips of fire as she stood; fixing him with ferocity he didn’t know she was capable of. To him, she seemed annoyed and rightfully so and he didn’t dare try seeming arrogant about the situation. He looked into her oceanic gaze and lied about who he was without any hesitation. It seemed she’ll follow and he was pretty relieved about it since he had no intention of talking within earshot of everyone else. A few individuals offered a leveled look but he passed them over, choosing to hesitate and look upon the Scottish lass. Perhaps it seemed weird, lingering as he searched her face and then body language for any hint that she planned to turn him over.

Merida flicked her wrist to insist he lead the way and he still lingered for a moment as if trying to devise a way to go about this but ultimately he did turn and started towards the small hall of sorts that lead to the lower rooms. The building was deceptively big; some walls appeared of different colors as if added later rather than built along with the inn itself. He noted this from the time when he checked in but there was no time to busy oneself with the scenery.

Hans was agonizingly aware of her presence behind him; he walked gradually with no hurried steps, all the while his mind drifted towards thoughts of how he’ll explain. This distant thinking had him distracted as he traversed towards his room. He halted at the door, his head angled down as he fiddled with the key, he couldn’t see her expression and he wondered if she was fixing him with that pointed look again.

Soon, the misunderstanding will be cleared… Right? There was no easy way about this. Swinging the door open he passed the threshold without turning to look at her, words lingering atop his tongue as he sought for the right beginning to this mess. He only wished she’ll understand but she was so welcoming earlier, he couldn’t see her as anything else. Cheerful and vibrant, she had to…

The maiden was wordless, so much so as he traversed the threshold into his diminutive. His bed faced the right-hand wall, not even that far of floor space to reach it while a window remained within the middle of the wall. It was certainly quieter as it seemed like all sound ceased to part into the room, perhaps it had good insulation to keep secrets where they deserved to be. Hans’s green gaze didn’t land atop the Scottish woman, no he chose to keep his gaze upon the doorknob as he promptly pivoted to throw it close, and perhaps out of sheer instinct he locked it quite suspiciously.

He and Merida were abandoned within the cramped room, she had spoken quite a bit previously and her energy was near endless so to have her to scathingly silent was a bit intimidating. For that reason, he refused to even look at her.

“So—“ his words were flung out so suddenly and purposefully as he had abruptly faced the girl, perhaps a bit too quickly and as his gaze met that of fiery tresses did pain ignite within his thigh. The impact was a bit too close to tender locations than he would have hoped but it still made contact within the muscle and it was surprising to say the least. He swung a bit to steady himself with his other leg as the other buckled but as he attempted to he suddenly felt a fist against his nape and he swung like a pendulum backwards. Arms hurled forward to grab anything that could stabilize his sudden loss of balance, his expression contorted in sheer disbelief. Before he knew it, he collided with the flooring with a ‘oof’ of air flying from his lungs.

Hans wheezed from the slight impact, momentarily stunned, his eyes squeezed shut out of reaction only to feel pressure along his arm and then wrist. His emerald gaze revealed itself, he had no idea what provoked such a reaction as he surveyed his predicament. Her face hovered just above as her hair of inferno hue spiraled down like stars of fire. She perched like that of a feline, poised and ready and he distinctly noted the glint of a weapon atop his chest. The prince was no stranger to such threats but he found himself for a loss of words. Her… Posture was scandalous but he had little time to get mildly flustered over such things when enticed to speak.

Lying at this point seemed immensely risky and he suddenly took a breath, only just realizing he had halted his breathing. Gulping, the male licked his lips to ready himself, still mulling over his words as carefully as he could.

“My name’s Hans Wastergaard of the Southern Isles… I was a prince,” he began firstly with his real name, “Karl was my father's and an impulsive lie because I was scared if you knew my real name… you’ll turn me in,” his spilt those details quite easily but a look of uncertainty crushed his flushed face as he imagined admitting his crimes. He had no clue how to justify it, there was no justifying it and regretted every moment of it. Perhaps in truth, he had yearned for a kingdom, a title to feel special but he did feel something for Anna. His bitterness grew and the people enticed him with their praises, one even went as far as to say if something happened to the royal family… Arendelle looked to him.

Suddenly, his greed grew and grew and so he did the unthinkable and nearly killed both the princess and the queen. Just reimagining it rekindled his despair, the immense regret he felt for his actions and the lingering haze of confusion. “I… Nearly killed the princess and queen of Arendelle for the throne,” it was nearly foreign to admit it as if he could clearly feel himself disagreeing with it, yet he did it anyways. “I can’t tell you why because I don’t know why… At the moment it felt right,” gritting his teeth he narrowed his brows feeling himself plunging deeper and deeper into the hole. “That’s why I lied to you… I also didn’t want to ruin my chances,” he chanced looking at her, curious of her expression and if that knife would suddenly plunge down.

His back was pressed firmly against the flooring, in all reality she wasn’t heavy against him and if he so desired he likely could wrangle the knife from her pretty quickly if fueled by enough desperation. However, he merely lacked the killing intent, the sudden fueling he had when he nearly cleaved the queen. He was relieved, adrenalized upon the mere thought of her end and the mere thought of becoming king. Hans’s desire was always to be seen and appreciated, as the youngest and least important son… It was all he had going for him was to marry into something better. Whether he loved Anna or not, he was truly happy and desperate to rid himself of his tragic past and yet… He ruined and he didn’t know why.

As the words passed his lips like birds escaping a window, he then felt a sense of regret. Those birds could never return to the building now just as his secret couldn’t be suppressed. Merida’s sudden outburst startled him and he flinched beneath her with widening eyes. She was completely right but if he lied and she noticed, he was worried for that too.

Hans was always a man of self-preservation so this was an odd change for him, Sitron had wanted him to change and he adored his friend’s opinion. Now… He wondered if his horse would think him a fool. It would be so easy to tell the neighbors within the south he was there, so easy. Hans’s face stretched in mingling horror, he didn’t even realize it but he yanked his hands to clasp over his face as if to hide it from sight. Hans wanted to disappear; he was embarrassed, ashamed, and confused. He didn’t know how to explain that the ‘him’ who did those crimes felt nothing like the ‘him’ now.

“I don’t know how to explain it but… I’m not the person… it wasn’t truly me I-I don’t know,” he started to breathe heavier, panic resonating within his voice which caused it to crack. Hans had been trying not to think about what happened, his emotions churned into and inky mess and he felt so lost. He kept his face covered, he couldn’t look at her disappointment, all he ever did was disappoint people and he was tired of it.

“I wasn’t myself… but it wasn’t me. You have to believe me,” rambled the man, he felt the slightest bit of tears pricking at the sides of his glossy green gaze and he felt more self-loathing at his pathetic state. A wild girl had him pinned and criticized everything he was doing wrong and she was right about all of it. It was like fate forced this glaringly obvious punishment upon him.