Angel in the Snow, Demon in the Shadows 10: Risen From Legend

Past vs. Present

Avalon

"Do you think there's a chance the Prince of the Southern Isles will spare Mordred his fate?" King Arthur asked his companion while leaning on the parapets, gazing down at a darkened Avalon now reflected his distress.

"I believe in the possibility," the man answered. "Should anyone help to change Mordred's fate, Arthur, it would be… well, it would be us, but that prince could certainly be a great help."

"All the other times, we never knew where he was. He was just… taken… And we didn't know where he was placed or even what year it was… Now we know where he is and we know the era, and we're still as helpless as we ever were…" Arthur said, looking miserable.

"Hmm…" his companion mused.

"I just… I want to be able to do something," Arthur said.

The man was quiet. "Then, my son, as sure as my name is Uther Pendragon, I will see to it you will," the man answered, turning to Arthur.

"How sir?" Arthur asked meekly, voice wavering a bit.

"Child, leave everything to me," Uther said, turning his son's face to him.

And he had done just as he promised…

KAK

"Choose among you a small company of knights, for a task is about to be given you that may well guarantee a mercy for the traitor knight," said the Elfin King.

"What?" Arthur breathed, pale. He and his knights gaped in shock at their visitors. Uther was, of course, unfazed.

"Ask no questions, young king. Only do," the Lady of the Lake said. "And I will bring them out of Avalon and into a world they do not know and will not be prepared for, for the sake of a doomed boy. A boy who, for some reason I cannot understand, the Grim Reaper, the Elf King, and Uther are convinced might this time be able to deny his fate where he has never been able to before. At least in some small way."

"Is your opinion, then, that he is doomed, lady?" the elf king challenged.

"My opinion is that he is too far gone to be saved. But I have been wrong before," she answered.

Now there Arthur and his knights were, totally thrown by this turn of events and suddenly in need of a decision. They had one chance at this. Only one. A single opportunity to make Mordred's case. A wrong choice could cost them. Cost him.

"Choose men that shall work in tandem with the princes of the isles. Men who shall compliment them… And at least one man to whom Mordred may bond and cling…" Thanatos said. The implication, they knew, was a brother. Or a father… But Arthur knew that that father couldn't be him… Even though part of him so badly wanted it to be, it couldn't. Not with how things had left off between them. Not now. He needed the man who had been more a father to Mordred than Arthur feared he could have ever hoped to be… He looked over his knights. Lot met his eyes, and there was no word that needed to be spoken. The man nodded to Arthur then rose and went to kneel before the entities, silently volunteering himself.

"There is a brother with control of fire, and a brother wielding magic which in part includes shapeshifting. Compliment it," the elf king hinted.

Arthur would defer to the wise and ancient elf's judgement on this. The king looked over his company. "Kay, Menw?" he asked.

"Without hesitation," Menw said, rising and bowing to Arthur before going to join Lot.

"As you command, brother," Kay agreed with a sigh.

Arthur looked over the others. "Dinadan, you and Franz seemed friendly," he said.

"Say no more," Dinadan said, smirking.

"I too will go, cousin," a knight by the name of Hoel said.

"And I," a knight, the Byzantine once-emperor Alexander, declared.

"Six will do well enough for now, with the possibility of others joining them later," Death said. Arthur nodded and looked them over. Lot, Alisander, Dinadan, Kay, Hoel, Menw… It was a company he felt comfortable sending out for the sake of the lost knight… For the sake of his son…

"Go and be safe. All of you. Please," Arthur said. They bowed to him and turned, following Death, the Elf King, and the Lady of the Lake away from Avalon…

Arendelle

It had been a couple of months since the return from Agrabah. Elsa's belly was showing a bit now, and it was only serving to worsen Hans's nerves. Her frequent abnormal attacks and the toll they were taking on her weren't helping matters. His brothers had returned to the Southern Isles. Runo had wed the fairy maiden who had been raising his children, in accordance with the deal that had been made. He had taken her and them into his house and thus far it seemed everything was well on that front. Little Elias had greatly improved, and now it seemed he might stand a chance at surviving infancy. Lars had begun to express some measure of interest in the nursemaid Nancy, whom they'd brought with them back to the Southern Isles and who had been an absolute rock for him. The triplets had married their fiancée's and wasted no time impregnating them. Iscawin was growing interested in the woman Layla. The other brothers had taken to spending much, much more time with their children and families, focusing on the islands they ruled and settling into their rolls more consistently. Louise was still being battled over by Franz and Jekyll, and was loving every minute of it… Really all was going quite well.

Except for the mood swings.

"I can't even stand the taste of it anymore!" Elsa wailed to him. He stood there hopelessly, patting his sobbing wife's back in vague annoyance. All this drama for the fact she didn't like the taste of chocolate anymore?

"There, there, it'll come back, my love. You'll soon return to adoring chocolate again," he hopelessly said, trying to sound concerned but really not giving two flying flips about the so-called 'crisis'. Well, at least she wasn't freezing the palace in a temper tantrum over it anymore, as she had done when she'd first learned.

She sniffed. "You think?" she asked, looking up at him with watery eyes. His gaze softened a bit. He had trouble staying annoyed at those eyes. She seemed so genuinely distressed. He'd learned early on, though, not to let his guard down when she used those eyes. The gaze was usually the precursor to a sudden firecracker temper. One wrong word, you were in trouble.

"I do," he answered genuinely. "You'll be back to eating as much chocolate as you want with Anna soon enough." He bit his tongue sharply. He shouldn't have mentioned Anna. As of late, she'd become a trigger to rage. Sure enough…

"Anna… I haven't even spoken to her for a month good riddance!" Elsa said, turning her back on him and folding her arms. "She's so petty! What? I say one thing she doesn't like and suddenly I'm public enemy one?"

Hans winced. Honestly, he was completely on Anna's side. That 'one thing' Anna hadn't liked had been Elsa calling her out for being overly clingy and excited and putting her down for thinking that Elsa's pregnancy must be fun. Elsa had basically told her sister that the baby was hers not Anna's, to stop acting like they shared it, that her pregnancy was not in fact fun, and had then told her to never bug her again. Anna had burst into tears, Elsa's remark about the baby not being Anna's unintentionally triggering horrible memories, for which Elsa had felt horrible. Anna had then screamed 'I hate you' and run off to her husband. She had been staying there ever since except for the occasional tentative visit. Those visits always opened with a tearful and genuine apology from Elsa, then always ended in Anna in tears and fleeing because she couldn't handle the fighting they inevitably ended up doing. After the third time Anna left in tears, Hans told his sister-in-law to stay away until he gave the all-clear. Just to spare herself pain. Right now, with Elsa's emotions and hormones all over the place, it was best the sisters stay apart for the time being.

Elsa, as if realizing her own words, sniffed and began to break down again. "I'm a terrible person!" she wailed. "I've ruined my relationship with Anna forever!"

"No, Elsa, no. Anna adores you, you know that," Hans quickly tried to soothe. Ugh, this being supportive was for the birds. "She loves you and always will. She'll come back, just wait and see, and she'll forgive you and everything will be okay."

"Yeah?" Elsa asked.

"Yeah, of course," Hans said.

She hugged him. "You're too good to me, Hans," she said.

He winced, feeling a bit guilty. "Uh, yeah… Sure…" he replied.

She frowned up at him sternly, catching the self-deprecating implications of his words. She'd become much more attuned to his uncertainties with her pregnancy, and now that she was, she was more worried about him than ever. "You are," she said. "You're a good man. And you'll be a great dad."

He shifted a bit, unconvinced, but then forced a smile. "Maybe you're right," he said.

"Of course I am," she teased, grinning gently and starting to fiddle with his trousers. He smirked but moved her hands away. She gave him a frowny pout.

"Oh, don't think I'm not tempted," he said. "Unfortunately, both of us have work to do. Too much to take the time for that right now, darling. But later. I promise." She considered his words then nodded in agreement. He smiled. Lately she'd been really, really… amorous, for lack of a more couth word. Extremely amorous. He wasn't necessarily complaining, but at times it was a little much even for him. He had no clue why she was being that way, but Jekyll had informed him that often at this stage in a pregnancy there was an increased drive for such things.

Frozen

"What's the plan?" Elsa asked as they walked arm-in-arm.

"Foreign dignitaries, listening to petitions, granting requests… The usual, honestly," he replied.

"Hmm, boring," she said.

"I know, love," he said. "Uh… how about letting me take the lead for this?"

"Why?" she suspiciously asked.

"Oh, just… because," he answered vaguely. The honest truth was, this pregnancy had turned her into a serious b-i-t-c-h queen at times. Thus far her people had been patient, for the most part, but it was starting to grate on them.

"Very well," she relented with a sigh. He nodded. He knew part of Elsa knew how totally jerkish she was being as of late, so he was glad she was letting this go without a fight. Hot temper, bad attitude, forked tongue, weepy… Yeah, it hadn't been fun. He liked the sappy and snuggly days though. And the adventurous and happy ones. "Have you been keeping in contact with your friends as of late, love?" Elsa asked, hand resting on her stomach subconsciously and softly rubbing it. He smiled and felt her belly gently as well. Movement was more pronounced now. Weak, but more pronounced. He was a little concerned, at this stage she should be bigger than this, but Jekyll had assured him it was probably going to just be a small baby. There'd been a brief panic where he'd been worried they were talking Elias small, but Jekyll had brushed it off and all but guaranteed the child would be bigger than that, as Elias had been premature. He could hear it moving too, sometimes, when he listened, and he wasn't sure, but he suspected he'd head a heartbeat as well. "Hans," Elsa gently and amusedly said.

"Huh?" he said, starting and looking up at her like he'd been caught doing something bad.

"Your friends. Have you been in contact with them? How are they?" she asked, grinning in amusement. Often her husband would become totally distracted and engrossed with the child and tune out of everything didn't include marvelling over it.

"Oh. Th-they're good," he replied. "Harald is still trying to choose between the two young women he's fond of, Carl is busy with duke things as per usual, Edvard is stressing himself over this whole Louise situation, Charles is working on an absolutely excellent new book but having some family drama meanwhile… Same old same old, really. Lord Alfred Tennyson, Lars's friend, has often stopped by to check on Elias and on us, so I've been friendly with him lately too. And with Eugene. Oh. Eric as well, Justic's friend. You remember Prince Eric and his wife Ariel?"

"I remember," Elsa confirmed, nodding. "The Little Mermaid only with a happy ending?" she teased. He blushed a bit and she giggled, squeezing his hand and resting her head on his shoulder as they entered the throne room.

Frozen

A couple hours in, Elsa was restless and letting slightly biting remarks slip out that Hans had to quickly cover, to her annoyance. She was doing good at letting him take the lead though, so that was something. She was obviously fighting to restrain herself. Honestly, he couldn't blame her for some biting remarks. There were quite a few petty and honestly pathetic problems and complaints coming in today. There'd been a complaint to her about why she was letting her 'traitor king' lord it over her, and she'd nearly gotten up and gone at the woman, but Hans had managed to keep her sitting and neutralize the ice magic she attempted to send out. Another man had remarked about her finally understanding a woman's place, but Hans knew it had always been an inside joke between Elsa and him. He never really meant it—he deeply respected Elsa and was quite supportive of the rising women's movement—so she never took it seriously. Normally they laughed it off with some quirky banter back and forth, but this time she seemed to have forgotten that fact and Hans had had to swiftly move in front of her before she could toss aside that adorable little friendship she and the man had going on. He'd personally guided him out and hastily apologized while explaining the situation. The man got the picture and apologized in turn, leaving quickly just to be safe.

"Really Elsa, you know he never means it," Hans said.

"I know! I'm sorry. I just reacted," she said, looking a bit concerned and embarrassed.

"He doesn't hold a grudge," he assured with a sigh. He bit back a remark about this getting out of hand, though, lest she turn her wrath on him.

"King Hans?" Kai said, entering the room and holding out a letter to Hans. "From your brother."

Hans glared at Kai, unimpressed. "Really?" he said flatly. He had thirteen of them. Kai knew that, dammit. Kai kept a totally neutral expression except or a brief moment where his lips quirked into a slight smirk. Hans sighed in annoyance when Kai stayed silent. "Which one?" he grumbled.

"Calcas," Kai answered.

"Thank you, Kai," Hans said. He took the letter and opened it, pulling the message out. Slowly a frown began to cross his face.

"Hans?" Elsa asked in slight concern. No response. He was reading a bit quicker and almost urgently now. "Hans," she repeated a bit firmer.

"Hmm? Oh, Elsa, sorry," he said, turning back to the letter.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary," Hans said, sighing. "Agitating, as usual."

"Oh?" she said, pressing.

"He's just being a brat," Hans said. "Hey, you have an appointment with Jekyll soon, right?"

"Yes?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay. How about we clock off early, you can get to your appointment and maybe get in sooner, and I can go reply to this?" Hans said. "Then perhaps we slip into town in disguise and have lunch?"

She smirked. "Daring. Alright. Let's," she said. He smiled.

Frozen

Hans went to the study and lay the letter down, glaring at it seriously and rereading it. Shortly after returning from Agrabah, his brothers had taken it upon themselves to track down the infant he'd spared from death and placed in the orphanage. Said infant happened to be who this letter was about…

The boy was seven or eight now they'd determined, thereabouts. In Avalon a knight in Arthur's court, Morganore, had kindly informed them that when they used the term 'coming of age' in Mordred's case, it meant the age he'd been when he'd 'officially' joined the Knights of he Round Table, that age being fourteen. He was only halfway there, which was semi reassuring. What wasn't was this letter. In it Calcas informed him they'd found the child. He had migrated to his brother's isle. That meant he was gradually getting closer and closer to the mainland, which in turn meant odds were the boy was searching for him. It was… unsettling. He'd said little about the experience in Avalon to Elsa, avoiding going into detail for the sake of her peace of mind and to a degree his. Deny it, it wasn't happening. Then his brothers had taken it upon themselves to look into the matter and the boy's history, and the more they uncovered, the less comforting it was.

Sure enough, as had been implied in Avalon, the boy's life thus far had been nothing short of hell. After being spirited away from the burning orphanage, he'd been placed in another. It was a cold, unfeeling place where children often were neglected and where it wasn't uncommon for babies to die of loneliness. He'd been taken from that place—read stolen—by a woman who'd lost her baby and went a bit crazy in her grief. She was completely unstable and unfit to mother. Should have been put in an asylum, as Calcas flatly put it, and Calcas never, ever endorsed the madhouses that were asylum's, for the horror stories told about them. The infant had almost died under her care and in fact would have—she lost her head and attempted to murder him, reliving losing her child—when he was saved by a young couple. Neighbors. They'd been good for him. Then had died, of course, because why not? Lived just long enough for him to get attached before being ripped away. Orphanage—read slave shack—again, ran away, became a street urchin going through hell each and every day and doing all manner of things to even just stay alive, was trafficked and sold into slavery and grossly abused for years, was kidnapped during the raid on Jurgen's island during the Ice Maiden incident, attempted to escape his captors on a ship bound for Connyn's island that turned out to be the pirate Xe's, was sold back to said captors and even more grossly abused, and had been kept their slave from that point on. Recently he'd been taken by his slave masters to Calcas' island. On the boy's recommendation.

Like Hans had said. Nothing short of hell. In fact, up until very, very recently, the child had continued their slave.

Now, this was the part Hans had to read again and again, puzzled. All his brothers were confused, in fact. The boy had come to Calcas's island still enslaved. Calcas had spotted him being led off the boat in chains, along with a group of other little ones captured by those slavers, and had tried to go after him. He'd tracked the child into the forest and found only bodies… The bodies of every slaver that had come off that ship… The rest of the little ones who'd been enslaved to the group were still there, huddled together scared and weeping. But not Mordred. Calcas had asked who'd done this, expecting the answer to be Mordred. They'd semi-backed that suspicion saying that yes, he'd tried to kill them, but no he hadn't been able to. The slavers had thrown him down and begun to hurt him with everything on the ground and on their persons that could be used to hurt him with. Rocks, sticks, ropes, fists, heels, teeth, fingernails, broken glass, more…

And then they had told Calcas a man had come out of the woods…

They said he looked as if he'd stepped from a storybook, clad head to foot in beautiful silver armor. The children had been utterly awed at his magnificence. They said he drew a broadsword neatly and didn't even pause before he was upon their wicked masters, utterly destroying them in a furious rage. The man had finished with the slavers in short order and returned to the weeping and shivering and anguished Mordred. He'd rolled him over and Mordred had cried out, trying to protect himself, but the man gently pried his arms away from his face, and when Mordred saw him…

They told Calcas that Mordred had gone even whiter than he already was, freezing up totally with eyes wide in shock and disbelief and denial and hope and so many other things… And the man had called him by name, tears in his eyes, and softly smoothed back the child's hair and cupped his face and looked at him and soothed him and spoke at him and touched him like a father bereaved far, far too long of a beloved child. Mordred just hadn't known what to do, utterly stunned, until he had given an anguished cry and burst into tears launching himself into the man's arms. The man had wrapped him up in linen and rose and come to them as Mordred clung to him and shivered in his arms sobbing. He'd freed them, they said, and given them coverings and clothes and food from the dead slavers, and told them to wait because someone was coming soon. They had obeyed, and not five minutes after the man disappeared into the woods, taking away Mordred, Calcas had arrived on scene…

Hans sat back, reading over the letter once more. They mysterious man had been decked in shining armor… Needless to say, Hans and his now very wary brothers had uneasy suspicions. Calcas had asked for a description of the man. It matched, to a T, the description of King Lot of Orkney… He was surprised, frankly, that it hadn't matched Arthur's, but then again, thinking over the legends it was probably a good thing it hadn't. He considered the course of action to take here. Finally, he settled for only five words to reply with. He took a quill and paper and jotted them down determinedly.

I'm coming to visit you.

Frozen

As the ship sailed away from Arendelle, Hans couldn't help but feel he'd probably made a big mistake leaving Elsa with nothing but a hastily scrawled note that he'd be away for a few days. But she'd been napping after a sexual interlude they'd shared, and he hadn't wanted to wake her! He felt like he was going to regret it when he got back, though. She'd been very… protective and possessive as of late, clinging to him and not wanting him to ever be away from her side for long. Which, by the way, he was totally fine with. He didn't want to miss a second more of her pregnancy than he already had, and that was probably why she wanted him near too. However, there were some things that just needed to be done that they couldn't bring each other along for, and this was one, so yeah… Oh he was in trouble. He grimaced and sighed, focusing on the voyage again.

It was a surprisingly quick trip. The wind and currents both were in their favor, and the weather was gorgeous. They made it to the Southern Isles in record time and were soon enough pulling up to the docks on Calcas's island. His brother was waiting there for him. The ship docked, and he disembarked, leading Sitron along. "Easy boy," Hans soothed as his stallion balked a bit before following more obediently. "He's restless," he excused to Calcas.

"No need to defend your horse to me, Hans," Calcas replied, shrugging. "You realize you could have just used one of the horses in the stables, right?"

"No thanks," Hans replied. He was very particular about his horses. "Surprised you didn't invite Connyn and Coth."

"We're triplets, but we don't have to do everything together," Calcas said, smirking. "Kind of capped it at the triple marriage then getting our wives pregnant at around the same time."

"Thought the simultaneous pregnancies were just coincidence," Hans said.

"They were," Calcas dryly said, grimacing. "Apparently we've been spending too much time together." He doubted that had actually had a bearing on the timing, but he was still going to dryly joke about it.

Hans smirked. "So just you and me then?" he asked.

"Yeah. I can't see this getting risky," Calcas replied. "How's Elsa?"

"Moody. Clingy. Ill-tempered. Weepy…" Hans answered. "Her pregnancy has been rough and painful, but thus far the baby is healthy, she's healthy, Jekyll seems pleased with the progress, and it's mostly good." Calcas nodded and smiled, mounting up. Hans did so too. "Right to it then?"

"Why not? You've eaten?" Calcas asked.

"Yeah," Hans replied.

"Good. And I've brought food and supplies, so everything should be alright," Calcas said. "Let's go." Hans nodded, and the two rode towards where Calcas had found the children and the bodies of the slavers.

Frozen

They rode a little beyond the clearing where the children had been discovered. "I stopped about here," Calcas said, pausing at a pass through a mountain. "I was alone. Wasn't going to tackle it solo just in case."

"Hmm… Let's go," Hans said. He began to ride into it carefully, keeping an ear out for anything that might be a threat. Calcas followed closely. The pass was quiet, nothing out of the ordinary, but lengthy. It was a good while before they finally came out on the other side and emerged into a large, beautiful meadow. They gasped, scanning it.

"Hans, look!" Calcas exclaimed, pointing at something. Hans looked over and started. Far in the distance stood the ruins of an old but beautifully preserved medieval building! A small, unimposing, single-towered castle that was probably not much bigger than some large houses. They stared at it quietly, taking it in in wonder. "I never even knew this was here," Calcas said. "Wow. I've really got to explore this island more."

"Calcas, that castle. It's being used," Hans said, smelling fire smoke. It was followed by the scent of cooking food. Far off in the field were two horses. The two brothers exchanged wary looks and cautiously began to ride down. Suddenly they heard a threatening growl from behind and gasped, spinning. Their eyes widened. Up on the cliff crouched a massive wolf twice the size of any normal wolf!

"Holy shi…" Calcas began.

"A dire wolf?!" Hans asked.

"That's bigger than any dire wolf," Calcas replied. The horses, whinnying and freaking out, backed away in terror from the creature. It bared its teeth and leapt down, stalking towards them with a snarl, ears laid back against its head. Calcas pulled out a rifle quickly and took aim. It lunged, taking Calcas off the horse, which whinnied in panic and bolted.

"Calcas!" Hans exclaimed. He shot the creature with fire. It yelped, letting Calcas go and leaping away, jumping around. It spun on them, teeth bared and tongue licking angrily.

Calcas scrambled up looking horrified. "Uh oh," he said.

Hans glanced over and gasped. His brother's rifle had been bit in half! Their eyes quickly went to the wolf. To their surprise, the creature wasn't going after Calcas's horse to run it down. Instead it was wholly focused on them. They backed away carefully, Calcas drawing his sword and Hans drawing his, setting it alight. The wolf continued growling and stalking towards them. They kept backing up. Just then they heard a whinny. Calcas's steed. They quickly turned to look and gasped. There, holding the horse's reigns, stood a literal knight in shining armor! Calcas and Hans gaped in awe.

The knight warily stared at them. Hans and Calcas turned back to the wolf. It stood, posed to fight in case they made one wrong move. "Menw, let them come," the knight said. The wolf looked over, then back at them. It summed them up quietly, then to their utter disbelief its form began to warp and change, and they found themselves soon gawking in complete shock at a second knight!

The man summed them up quietly. "You shouldn't have come here," the knight, Menw, said. Turning, he headed back. Unsure what to do, they tentatively started to follow him and his companion down towards the ruins…

They entered the building where the knight who'd calmed the horse brought them. He walked ahead to a central fireplace and turned, summing them up cautiously. They recognized him and stiffened, eyes widening in shock. He soon sighed. "I expected our paths would cross again not long after my arrival," he said. "But I'd hoped it wouldn't be this soon."

"Oh my god…" Hans said in awed disbelief. "It's you."

"King Lot of Lothian and Orkney," Calcas breathed, eyes wide. King Lot bowed his head to them as Menw moved to stand at his side, arms folded.

KAK

Hans and Calcas listened to the tale the knight told of how he had come to be here, about the visit from the Elf King, the Lady of the Lake, and Thanatos. "We were to be deposited in two phases, three for the first, three more for the second. It was Menw, Alisander, and I sent first. Menw was placed on the island from which Mordred was taken, and in the form of a whale followed the ship until he knew where it was going. Then he took to the skies in the form of an eagle and found me, and relayed the message to be ready. So, I went out and I found my son with those monsters, and I put them down like the beasts they were without regret… I took my child, left Menw to linger in secret and guard the others, and sent for Alisander to join us when he could."

"Has he yet?" Calcas asked.

"Turn around," a new voice replied. They spun, startled, and gasped. There, standing in the door, was a third knight!

Franz's Isle

A man with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and a rucksack over his shoulder, walked towards a town he saw in the distance, an excited smirk on his face. He scratched at his goatee, summarizing the place. It was a far cry from what he was used to, and he felt for a moment a bit unnerved, but curiosity got the better of him and he grinned, heading down. The first thing he'd done, when he'd found a set of century appropriate attire—at least he hoped it was century appropriate—was change out of his period clothing and into the more modern style. It was best not to draw attention to himself. He'd also left behind the armor he'd come in, in the ruined building he'd claimed. A building that would now serve as his secret stash and a grounding, familiar place for when this new world would undoubtedly become overwhelming.

He walked into the town and was almost instantly assailed from all sides with things he'd never seen before! Strange buildings of all sorts, two-wheeled modes of transportation that looked precarious and entirely unnecessary, clothing and outfits that had him utterly astounded—whether it was an improvement or not was up in the air for him—and foods of all kinds he'd never even thought of. His grin spread excitedly across his face and he took to sampling a bit of everything he could, looking around this new place in awe and excitement.

He spotted a group of beautiful maidens gossiping and laughing together and decided to take the chance. He moved right up to them boldly to attempt flirting in this century. "Ladies," he greeted, waggling his eyebrows. They looked confused, then intrigued. Smirks began to show up and a couple raised fans, though the man had no idea why.

"Stranger," one replied.

"Such interesting conversation this fine day," the man said. "Care to fill me in? I'm new to this town and information's not exactly forthcoming, it seems," he said.

"We're quite sure it's none of your business," another girl said, playing cold.

"Ah, such harsh women you are. You know, I can pay you," he said.

"You? A vagabond?" another asked.

"Who says I'll pay you with money?" he answered, grinning wickedly at them and winking. They flushed and looked unsure whether to be appalled or intrigued. "No, no ladies, nothing like that. Unless you want it of course. I was thinking more…"

"The prince is riding!" a voice called from somewhere suddenly, and immediately the roads began to clear. The man dropped the conversation, to the vague annoyance of the women who were starting to get curious, and followed the lead of the crowd. He watched down the road as the prince of this island rode along the street with a small entourage, likely on his way to either hunt or meet with a council. He recognized the man and lit up a bit, grinning. Franz-Neb. Well, now was as good a time as any, he supposed. As the prince was approaching, the people bowing at his passing, the man stepped boldly out.

"Franzie!" he greeted. "Long time no see!"

"Whoa!" Franz exclaimed, leaping back on his horse as a look of shock and horror crossed his expression. "The hell?!" Guards went to draw their swords to kill this intruder. "No, no, no, no, no, swords down!" Franz ordered. He looked ahead at the smirking intruder in disbelief. "Sir Dinadan?!" Dinadan grinned wickedly.

Frozen

Franz trailed behind Dinadan, now on foot, with mouth agape in shock as he continued trying to process and understand what the heck a knight of the round table was doing in his kingdom! The people, of course, hadn't caught on that that was what the guy was, the connection was probably a near impossible one to make, but Franz knew. "Things have changed so much," Dinadan said from in front of him, wasting no time in checking out every stall and ware now that Franz had ditched his entourage. The prince had probably figured a knight of the round table was about the best protection he was gonna get, and he was right, so he'd just sent the others back and joined himself to Dinadan like a watchdog, after ordering his people to commence their business.

"What are you…?" Franz began.

"The hell kind of weapon is this?" Dinadan asked, taking a gun from a stall and frowning at it, trying to figure it out.

"The successor to bows and arrows and crossbows. Give me that!" Franz said, snatching it back and putting it away before Dinadan could hurt himself. "It's called a gun. Uh, why are you talking like this?"

"Huh? Oh, this laid-back thing? Pfft, like people ever really talked in all that ye olde poetic speak back then. It was pretty dubbed down from what you think it was. We used it to be formal! Any other time most of us didn't bother. I mean, Palamedes is perpetually stuck in ye olde mode, talks like that twenty-four seven, but the rest of us? Nah. I guess the older the knight the more formal they talked, but nowhere close to Palamedes' level," Dinadan said, brushing it off. "Ooh, what's this?" he asked, taking something else and examining it.

"No touchy!" Franz said, diving for it and quickly pulling it away from Dinadan with an alarmed look. "That would be an explosive."

"A what now?" Dinadan asked.

"Big boom, loud, mass destruction, mass death," Franz flatly said. He looked at the shopkeeper. "Really?" he demanded of the man.

"The miners need dynamite," the man replied, shrugging. "I keep it under lock and key. Usually."

"Make usually always and don't display this. Are you crazy? Wait to be asked for it," Franz said, handing it back.

"Is it like a firework?" Dinadan asked.

"You know what those are?" Franz questioned, frowning a bit curiously.

"Are you kidding? That stuff's been around for millennium," Dinadan said. "Yeah, we know what those are. The Chinese used them for weapons as well as for display. Pretty way to die. And messy." Franz blinked blankly at him. Dinadan smirked obliviously back until it got awkward, then shifted slightly. "So, where's the tavern?" he asked, clapping his hands together.

"You mean the bar? Saloon? Inn? Whatever you want to call it?" Franz said. "Right this way."

"Bar and Saloon? What was wrong with the word tavern?" Dinadan asked, frowning slightly but following him nonetheless.

"You know I honestly don't know," Franz replied. "Just slowly changed I guess."

"What else has changed?" Dinadan asked.

"A good bit. Hans is more up on language changes than I am, though," Franz answered.

"Eh, not important anyway. Let's get drunk," Dinadan said.

"Anyone else would say, 'this early'? I say why the heck not," Franz replied, grinning wickedly. Oh, he was gonna like this visit. He could worry about quizzing the guy later. Right now, it was party time.

Meanwhile...

"Where the hell is Dinadan?" Kay demanded testily, frowning and looking around for where the other had gone.

"Don't even ask," Hoel replied, grimacing and rolling his eyes. Kay blinked and sighed, face-palming. He needed no further explanation.

Calcas's Isle

Hans and Calcas stared at the third knight who'd arrived in shock. "You've returned. Welcome majesty," Menw greeted Alexander.

"What was my empire has long moved on without me by now. You don't have to call me that anymore," Alisander said, walking passed the princes and up to Lot and Menw.

"Once you were the Byzantine Emperor. That's all that is required for me to call you majesty," Menw stated.

Alexander's gaze softened and appeared almost grateful. "You're okay?" he asked them, looking warily back at Hans and Calcas.

"They pose no threat," Lot said, arms folded.

"Hey! We resent that," Hans said. The three knights smirked in amusement but were unapologetic.

"What about the other three?" Calcas asked.

They winced, exchanging looks. "We… don't know. Nor were we supposed to. At least not yet," Alisander answered. "We don't know if the second phase happens now, years in the future, or what."

"We're feeling it out," Menw added.

Hans hesitated. "And… and the boy?" he asked, not quite feeling ready to use his name out loud. It just still seemed so surreal…

As if in response, they heard movement from somewhere. The knights looked over towards a door. Hans tensed nervously up a bit. Calcas squeezed his hand firmly and reassuringly to ground him. Menw and Alexander slipped away from Lot, leaving the man in direct line of sight the door, and Hans and Calcas held their breath…

"Lot?" a weepy voice called from the tower. A little boy, only seven or eight if that, appeared in the doorway to it, rubbing his eyes to wipe away tears. He clung to a little stuffed toy.

Lot looked over. "Mordred. What's wrong little one?" he asked, kneeling.

The little child hesitated then approached carefully. "A nightmare," he answered in a whisper, hanging his head. "I don't like to sleep, daddy… I mean Lot!"

Lot's gaze softened immensely. He took the boy into his arms gently and picked him up, rocking him. "You don't need to refrain from calling me your father, darling. You never did."

"But you're not," Mordred said.

"Sometimes being a father means being more than being just blood," Lot answered gently.

Mordred snuggled him a bit, though appeared unconvinced, then looked over and started, straightening up as he caught sight of Hans… The gaze that little boy gave… No child should be able to look at someone like that… The prince could feel the hatred building in those eyes… "What's he doing here?" the little boy demanded in a cold and dark voice that definitely shouldn't belong to a child.

Lot looked over at Hans. "He and his brother will dine with us," he answered, not directly replying to the question.

"It's the murderer prince," Mordred said, pointing accusingly at Hans.

"Mordred…" Lot began.

"I won't let you kill daddy! I won't let you!" Mordred screamed at Hans suddenly, almost leaping out of Lot's arms and making a startled Hans jump, totally taken aback. He felt an uneasy prickling up and down his spine. Oh, he didn't like this. Not one iota.

"I'm not here to kill him," Hans said.

"Then why did you come?!" Mordred demanded furiously.

"I…" Hans began. He trailed off.

"Because when knights in shining armor who look like they've stepped from story books start showing up, people start getting antsy. I have a job to do, protect this island, so I needed to investigate. I invited my brother along," Calcas smoothly covered. "I was… unaware you had been scarred by his wicked prince phase, child."

"You won't take Lot away! No!" Mordred screamed angrily, clinging to Lot possessively. "Lot, they won't take you, they can't! I'll-I'll kill them first!"

"Mordred, enough," Lot firmly and sharply said. "They aren't our enemies."

"He killed them! He killed my mother and father!" Mordred said, pointing. "And burned up all the babies in the orphanage! I read it."

"The burning of the orphanage was my brothers!" Hans defended. Calcas gave him a dark scowl for throwing the others under the carriage. "What? Why am I taking the fall for them?" Hans demanded in defense. Calcas rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"I know, little one, I know," Lot gently soothed the little boy who was working himself up. "But he isn't here to kill me. Menw and Alisander wouldn't let him, you know that. Breathe, Mordred, breathe. Follow my breaths. In… Out… In… Out…" Mordred started to try and obey, and soon his breathing was becoming less panicky. He sobbed, burying himself in Lot's arms and holding him tightly.

"He can't take you. I won't let him. I won't," Mordred said.

"I know, little love, I know," Lot said, cradling him reassuringly. "Pretend, for now, he isn't here, and tell me, my darling, what you dreamt," he continued, carrying Mordred passed Hans and Calcas and outside where the child wouldn't feel so trapped and helpless.

"Mommy's song," Mordred mumbled in a watery voice.

Lot's expression darkened in disgust. "Then I will sing you a new one to take it away," he said.

Frozen

Left alone with Menw and Alexander, Hans and Calcas focused their attention on them slightly uneasily. "You're dead men," Alisander flatly said. "You'll be fortunate to survive this visit. He's plotting already."

"He has been for years, apparently," Hans slightly bitterly and slightly sadly replied.

"What scars is he dealing with?" Calcas asked in concern.

"Many deep and disturbing ones," Menw answered. "He'll let no one but Lot touch him, and even then he'll panic when taken by surprise or when having a flashback. He's afraid of darkness, afraid of tight or enclosed spaces, afraid of crowds, dislikes when strangers get within five feet of him, loathes baths, is terrified of bedtime, is terrified of sleeping…"

"He's a wreck. Let's put it simple," Alexander cut off flatly. "Whatever type of abuse you can think of, he's experienced it. Lot is literally the boy's lifeline. If not for him, Mordred would probably have starved himself to death by now or died of exhaustion. He has no appetite and won't touch food unless Lot gives him no choice. At times it must practically be forced into his mouth, but never by Lot, usually by one of us. He needs to be able to trust Lot unquestioningly. At bedtime, Lot has to be right in the boy's room laying at his side and holding him close for him to feel safe sleeping. Heaven forbid the man try and slip away. Panic ensues if Mordred awakens to find him not there. The kid is self-destructive and often hurts himself, not even necessarily intentionally, but just because he can't handle the emotions tearing through him on bad days and starts to fit like a madman… Yeah. Wreck sums it up."

"Really that's just a few of the major things," Menw said. "Then there are the small ones. Little seemingly random triggers here and there that throw him into a panic or have him huddling on the floor whimpering in a fetal position, and when you think about why they could have possibly triggered him, you get some pretty dark and disturbing ideas."

"For days after his rescue the little guy was catatonic. Lot fed him, gave him water, cleaned him up when he didn't get him to a lavatory in time, bathed him, moved him around, carried him outside to bring him for walks or rides… All the while Mordred was utterly listless… He did nothing of his own accord, just… just lay there. Like a doll being played with by a child, tended and moved and manipulated wholly by its owner," Alexander said.

"It was… hard to watch… Really, really hard… Heartbreaking for us, to cut right to the core of it. It took the kid a long while to process he wasn't being hurt anymore or restrained or ordered around or ill-treated," Menw said.

"What does he know of us?" Calcas asked. He turned to his brother and unease flickered across his expression. "Of Hans?" he specified.

There was quiet. "Everything," Menw finally answered. And the way he said it? He meant everything. "He reads whatever he can find on the topic of the 'Wicked Prince'. Books, newspapers—whatever newspapers are—scrolls, oral tales, old articles… He's obsessed with you…"

"And that's why you're a dead man walking," Alisander grimly finished.

"Maybe we should leave, Hans," Calcas uneasily said, not liking this.

"Does the kid have a weapon on him?" Hans incredulously asked.

"Aww, how cute. You actually think he needs a weapon," Alexander replied borderline condescendingly. Hans blinked and flushed in embarrassment, glancing sheepishly away. Calcas frowned warningly at Alexander. No one got to put their brother down but them.

"Alexander, behave," Menw muttered to his friend, catching on. Alexander frowned then sighed, relenting to keep quiet.

"We're leaving. Now," Calcas said. "We've seen all we needed to see."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alisander asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

"We wish Mordred no harm. We wish our brother even less. It means we'll be watching him. Closely. Making sure he stays far from Arendelle and Hans by any means necessary short of scarring him more than he's been scarred. We expect you to do your jobs in that regard. He's your responsibility. You keep him as far away from our brother as you possibly can, or yeah, we'll go from allies to enemies real, real quick. You don't want to make enemies in us."

"Are you threatening us?" Menw asked, eyes narrowing coldly.

"No. Stating fact," Calcas said.

"Enough, Calcas," Hans said. "We don't want to be their enemies anymore than they want to be ours. They'll do what they can, I'm sure, to keep their renegade knight in check."

"Oh bite us!" Alisander snapped. "Trust us, if we'd known what Morgause was doing, we would have put a stop to it."

"I can't see how in the world Lot could have been that oblivious to it when it was happening in his own house!" Calcas replied. "Blinded by love for that psycho, I suppose?"

Alexander made to go for his sword, but Menw held his arm away, though it was apparent it was in part to keep himself from going for his own sword. The four glared at each other darkly. "Enough. All of you," Lot sharply commanded from the door. They looked over swiftly and spotted the man there, holding Mordred's hand. Mordred glowered up at them through dark bangs, glaring but being silent. They shifted uncomfortably and backed down from one another. Lot glared at them all. He wasn't certain what it was all about, but he got the feeling he could harbor a guess. He owed them no explanation. He looked down at Mordred. "Say what you wanted to say, son."

Mordred grimaced then looked up at Hans and Calcas with a rueful smile. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just upset and tired. Would you like to stay for supper?" he asked in what sounded, at first, like an innocent tone, but ultimately came across as creepy because there was some undertone in it that definitely wasn't good.

Hans felt in himself the desire to reflect the child, but fought it down. Or so he thought. Turned out nope, he didn't. He knelt to the little one's level, a pleasant smile creeping across his face. "Of course, little one. My brother and I would be most honored to dine with you. Such a pleasant, gentle tempered little boy you are," he cooed in an equally innocent tone. Mordred's smile fell, and his expression darkened. He glared at Hans quietly. Han remained smiling agreeably back. Lot gave Calcas a questioning and suspicious look.

Calcas looked slightly mortified at his brother's actions and blushed on feeling Lot's scrutiny. "Err, Hans, get up. Please?" he said.

Hans frowned, expression darkening a bit in annoyance. He sighed and rose before smiling once more at Mordred, who glared, and turning back to his brother. "Guess we're staying for dinner," he said.

"I'm not sure that's…" Calcas began.

"It's a fine idea," Lot cut off. Calcas grimaced. Oh, he felt uncomfortably outnumbered about now. He was starting to regret not sending for Connyn or Coth. Or any of their other brothers, for that matter.

Frozen

Hans and Calcas sat across from Lot and Alexander. Mordred had wandered up to his room to wait to be called for supper. Menw was the one making supper. "I like my meat without salt, Menw," Alisander called obnoxiously. "Oh, and be sure the vegetables aren't soggy." He was answered with Menw cursing him out in Greek and snickered, grinning wickedly. Lot rolled his eyes hopelessly.

"I take it neither of you cook?" Calcas asked.

"Do you?" Alisander asked with a snort.

Calcas flushed. "Uh… no," he admitted. Why bother learning when you had servants and palace chefs doing it for you? He was pretty sure most royalty didn't bother learning, hence the reason both Lot and Alexander, kings, weren't even as much as offering to help. Because they just couldn't. Menw, as far as he knew, was a knight that hadn't been of so noble a birth that he hadn't had to learn how to cook, so it was obvious who the housekeeper of this trio had to be. They'd probably starve without the guy.

"Kelin-Sel knows how. And I self-taught myself a few things," Hans defended, blushing a bit. Mordred wandered down the stairs and went into the kitchen.

"He likes to help Menw," Lot explained. "I allow it. I wasn't taught that basic life skill. I won't have Mordred in the same position."

"That seems… trusting," Calcas said.

"To see he's trusted is good for his emotional and mental development. It's been stilted enough by the damn slavers that had him," Lot said. Calcas and Hans exchanged uneasy looks. Was Lot seriously that oblivious and naïve? Mordred came out after a moment with goblets of wine and handed them out to the four men at the table quietly. "Thank you, Mordred," Lot said. He looked at Hans. "Oh, Prince Hans, you have less than me. Let's switch glasses." Hans and Calcas started. Hmm. He wasn't as naïve and oblivious as they'd thought. Wow. The king was good. Show Mordred he trusted him without being a total fool or letting on that he was onto Mordred's game. If Mordred didn't know Lot was onto his game, the odds he'd outplay the man in future were lower. Still there, but lower.

"Yes, of course Lot," Hans replied, feeling a bit uneasy with the possibility of this close call. He slid over his goblet to Lot and took Lot's. He still hesitated. Maybe Mordred was onto Lot after all and had poisoned the king's drink knowing Lot would switch it! Or… maybe he was just paranoid. Nonetheless, he waited for Lot to take the first drink. Lot, sensing Hans's concern, raised the goblet to his lips. Mordred shifted and clambered quickly onto Lot's lap, taking the wine away from him.

"What's wrong, little one?" Lot asked innocently.

"I think Menw spit in that one," Mordred said. Calcas covered his mouth to hide a snicker. "I'll get you other wine."

"Really? Thank you, son," Lot replied, letting Mordred take away the goblet and scrambled off. Hans looked ill at ease and let out a slightly uneasy breath, sipping from Lot's goblet and really hoping it wasn't a mistake. He didn't feel any ill effects, so he would assume he was safe. Mordred returned slightly sulkily, handing a new goblet to Lot. Lot smiled at him and gently ruffled his hair before sipping from it. Mordred wandered off back to the kitchen with a little pout.

"Watch him to make sure he doesn't hurt himself, Menw!" Alisander called, frowning in some concern.

A pause. "Understood," Menw replied, catching onto the secret message quickly.

"Maybe I should go back to watch him too," Alexander murmured.

"Menw will handle it," Lot assured.

Silence a while. "How did you not see what your wife was doing to him?" Hans finally asked, looking seriously at Lot.

Lot was quiet, staring into the goblet. "I did," he finally answered. "I pretended I didn't because the moment she realized I knew, it would have all been over for Mordred and Loholt both. She would have been subtle and careful no longer. She would have unleashed everything she had. Loholt wouldn't have survived and would have died even sooner than he did, and Mordred would have been lost to her manipulations and twisting long before he already was… While I was there, while she still needed to hide her evil from me, at least I could be something of a buffer and protection… And then I wasn't there anymore…" Lot said. Calcas and Hans looked confused.

"He died," Alisander quietly specified. "Things just went downhill for the kid from then on. Spiralled at a rate so fast none of us could even keep up except his brothers… Then they weren't there…" Calcas and Hans were quiet, staring at the table. They didn't ask for more detail. They didn't want the knights reliving that time…

"My mistake was keeping what was happening to him in the immediate family… None of us were good at asking for help when we needed it, or sharing what we deemed personal family information," Lot said.

"Gawain told Arthur, Lot. After you were gone. Arthur tried to fill your shoes, he really tried so hard, but when Loholt… Suffice it to say, it didn't last…" Menw said from the doorway of the kitchen. They looked back at him. "Dinner's ready," he said.

"Thank you, Menw. We'd be lost without you no doubt," Lot said.

"Really?" Menw flatly said, unimpressed. "You know it wouldn't kill you two to take a couple lessons from me, right?" They were quiet. "Yeah, I thought it was probably just general disdain and laziness." They flushed but didn't confirm or deny the statement. Menw sighed, hopelessly rolling his eyes.

"What, our thanks aren't enough?" Alisander asked.

"Careful or I really will spit in the food. Specifically, yours," Menw warned. He looked back into the kitchen and frowned. "Hey! Away from that cupboard little brat." He went back in and pushed Mordred out before retrieving the food and coming out with it. He glared at Mordred suspiciously. Mordred ignored him, climbing onto Lot's lap and plopping down blamelessly. Menw handed out the food. Lot moved Mordred onto his own seat, to Mordred's protest.

Menw was about to hand Hans his own food when he dropped it. "Oh blast! I'll get you more, your highness. My apologies." Mordred made a sound of dismay and frustration. Hans tensed up and grimaced, catching on. Oh, they should have just left. Menw left and retrieved another plate, giving it to Hans before cleaning up the mess from before in obvious annoyance. He carried it out then returned to join them. Mordred glared at him bitterly, then turned to Hans and commenced to general glowering.

"Mordred, eat up," Lot said. Mordred looked up at him then back at the food. After a moment he obeyed.

Frozen

Calcas and Hans prepared to leave. They'd waited until after Mordred had been put to bed before going. Lot, Menw, and Alisander stood outside with them. "You'll make it back in the dark alright?" Menw asked. "I can guide your way."

"We'll be fine," Calcas assured. Menw was quiet. "And you're gonna watch to make sure anyway, aren't you?"

"An owl's inconspicuous," Menw answered.

"I had no idea there was a shapeshifting knight in Arthur's court," Hans said in fascination.

"There were a good few knights who had powers or abilities," Menw said, smirking a bit.

"Fare thee well, majesties," Lot said. "As far as is in my power, I will keep Mordred away from you, I swear it… But I can make no guarantee… Fate itself is against him."

"Fate can be conquered," Hans answered. "Try harder than is in your power. Whatever it takes."

"As I intended," Lot said, bowing his head to the king-consort.

"Ride safe," Alexander said.

"Goodbye, knights," Calcas said, mounting up with his brother. With final waves, they galloped away from the ancient building to return to Calcas's palace. In the morning, Hans would leave for Arendelle again. The wind should be in his favor, and the weather. Possibly the current too, but that remained to be seen.