.

Brush With Disaster

Eric stood on the docks waiting for the ship to pull in. Soon it docked, and shortly afterwards Justic disembarked, his brother Hans at his back. "Eric," Justic greeted warmly.

"Justic," Eric replied, going to him and embracing him affectionately, smiling tiredly and a bit sadly.

"What's wrong?" Justic asked.

"Father's gone, quite recently, and I'm king now; for all the good that does me at this point," Eric replied.

"So you'll certainly consent to assimilation then?" Justic asked.

"Why bother to hold onto a dying kingdom? What political influence do we even have anymore, honestly? We're ultimately subjects of Denmark still. Dad's been brow-beaten and shoved around for years and retains virtually no power except with other off-shoot kingdoms. I'm not going to live in a protective little bubble pretending that we can actually last in the wake of the changing tides. Besides, I want more time to spend with Ariel and Melody. Giving up the kingdom will let me do that. I'll still be a Duke in the end, retaining a title and control of this land. The trade-off is I'll ultimately be a subject to the Danish King. It's not a bad price, for everything I might gain. A lot of responsibility comes off my shoulders," Eric said.

"Lazy," Hans sang.

Eric frowned at him then gave Justic an incredulous look. "Him? Really?" he asked dryly.

"He has the tools," Justic answered, shrugging. "I'll keep him behaved. I hope."

"Reassuring," Eric replied, smirking wryly. He turned to Hans. "Welcome Prince Hans. Or King now?"

"I'm not going to argue with King," Hans replied, shrugging.

"Prince it is," Eric said.

"Oh bite me," Hans said, frowning at him in annoyance, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

"You're tainted now," Eric replied, chuckling. Hans started at the remark and shot him a scowl. "No more the Virgin Prince," Eric further teased.

"Drop dead Eric!" Hans snapped.

"He's not being cruel, Hans," Justic said.

"You join him," Hans bit.

"Well this reassures me about his temperament for diplomacy," Eric dryly said.

"He'll manage," Justic said, brushing Hans off. "He's just a bit stir crazy right now. And sulky. I took him away from his heavily pregnant wife."

"I've been meaning to congratulate you on that," Eric said, smiling at Hans. "What do you think it will be?"

"Her family had mostly girls, mine had mostly boys. It's a toss up," Hans answered, becoming a bit more accommodating at this change of topic and even smiling a bit. "Only a few months more. It's eager to get out."

"First time mothers usually carry for a longer time than they do with subsequent pregnancies," Eric said.

"Sometimes less time, so that's a concern," Justic said.

"Positive, Justic, positive. First time father here," Eric said, jerking a thumb at Hans with a grin. "God I've missed you. It's been a while."

"I've missed you too," Justic replied, smiling. "A pity we meet up under this sort of circumstance. Are you sure that you're okay with this, Eric? You know that the Southern Isles will give you aid if you choose to fight against this integration."

"I'm done with war, Justic. As far as can be helped. That's the Danish King's problem now, not mine. Or will be soon. And I couldn't be happier. I'm a father and a husband, and I really, really don't want to die in some battle or war and leave my wife a widow and daughter fatherless," Eric said.

"Here, here," Hans dryly said. "The problem is I'm stuck in it as long as the Southern Isles and Arendelle are allied. The fact of the matter is that if the Southern Isles falls, Arendelle follows soon after."

Eric nodded. "Let's go inside. Soon the delegates from Denmark and Scotland will arrive, and then the fireworks are really going to start. Be careful. The both of you. One misstep could plunge you into a whole new war you don't want. The Southern Isles has seen enough war I think, and with Elsa a month or two out from giving birth, maybe less, I doubt the sea is where you want to find yourself posted, Hans." Hans grimaced at the idea of it.

Frozen

"These are the terms offered to both of your kingdoms," the Danish ambassador said, sliding two sheaves of paper over, one to Eric and one to Justic, who shared with Hans. It was two hours into their summit and Denmark was making its final play for Eric's land. The Southern Isles, thus far, hadn't dented, and both the Scottish and Danish ambassadors were getting agitated, offended, and antsy. The Danish ambassador had made a smart move in first focusing on closing out the deal with Eric's land. After that was done, he could focus the rest of his attention on trying to sway the Isles.

Eric read through the papers in detail. "So precisely what was discussed before, I presume? I've expressed already my willingness to assimilate with Denmark, but that's considering all has stayed the same as it was when last it was talked of," he said.

"It is the same," the Danish ambassador confirmed. "Nothing changed in the wake of your father's death." Eric continued to read silently. "We will not rush you of course," the man continued. They didn't need to, after all. The Danish king knew from the start the route this young ruler would take in regards to his kingdom. Eric had written as much in a letter to him, after a meeting between said Danish King and Eric's father had ended in Eric's father storming out in a tizzy. Eric had apologized for his parent's behavior in that letter and had all but pledged his kingdom to Denmark upon his dad's death. It had only been a matter of waiting until the old king had passed. And now he had, and his son was in charge, and Eric was set in his decision.

"You rush me into nothing," Eric replied. "I've taken into consideration all aspects of this integration. It may be somewhat jarring, but I've been preparing my people for it for some time now. Since first I took the throne." Which admittedly hadn't been very long ago, but it was long enough to make a dent. Ariel was good at building trust and relationships with the people, they all adored her, so that had smoothed things out a lot. Add to that his killing of the Sea Witch and then the whole deal with said Sea Witch's sister… He, Ariel, and Melody were firmly and welly beloved in his kingdom, and given the hero status of pretty well his entire family, the people trusted no rulers more to make the right calls for them. Even if they were integrated into Denmark, they knew their Duke and Duchess would fight for their sakes if thing started going badly because of the decision. And they were right. He might not remain a king, but he still had his allies.

"Then I offer you this quill with which to sign. You will remain king until the closing of this year, and then our contract shall go into effect," the Danish Ambassador said, handing it over. "Until then you retain your authority as it is."

Eric took the quill, dipped the tip, and pressed it against the paper, writing his signature. He let out a heavy sigh when he had, closing his eyes. It had felt more bitter than he'd thought it would… But what was done was done. He shook his head, opening his eyes, and slid the papers back over before handing the quill back. The Danish Ambassador tucked them both away and was smart enough not to pull the 'you did the right thing' card. He held his tongue and immediately focused attention on Justic and Hans, who were still reading the papers and looking infuriated.

"We're not giving you permission to go to war over our kingdom," Hans said flat out, not even reading the whole thing before shoving the papers back. Too many clauses, too many compromises, too many threats, too much entitlement. "The Southern Isles is not some bone to be fought over! They will remain independent and separate from Scotland and Denmark both. They've made as much perfectly clear."

"Be reasonable, your highness! The Southern Isles canno' hope ta survive on its own!" the Scottish Ambassador protested.

"What's more you will not in a thousand words tell my brother the king to roll over like a dog and let you wipe them away," Hans continued.

"We're well aware of the changing political climate, gentlemen," Justic said in a more diplomatic tone, calling Hans down by placing a firm hand on his shoulder and pushing the young prince, half out of the seat by now, back into it. Hans shot him an annoyed glare before slumping back to glare darkly at them. Hans' reaction to all of this, though, was telling his brother enough to know that he had to tread very, very carefully. If Hans was reflecting the Danish and Scottish ambassadors right now - and he doubtless was - they were in no mood to play around. They were relentless and determined to get results, and they were hiding their anger and disgust towards the stubborn Southern Isles very well. "We are not blind to the inevitable death of off-shoot kingdoms such as ours, but that time is not yet. Not for us, not for Arendelle, not for Weselton, not for Avalor, not for Corona, and not for a great many others for that matter. Leave us to pass in peace in our own time. Why try to harry what will ultimately happen anyway? Let us alone a little longer. Soon enough integration is going to happen either way."

"Why drag out the death of a sufferin' dog?" the Scottish ambassador asked coldly.

"Because that dog isn't suffering?" Hans replied. "There's life in us yet, and a good deal of it too. Patience will earn either Scotland or Denmark greater rewards in the future than impatience and war will. You'll not only gain a more cooperative nation if you wait and let them come to you, but a more willing one too. Attempting to control a defiant land will end in disaster. Look at the disaster that was England and Scotland! I thought your nation at least, Ambassador, would understand how miserable an idea forcing an unmalleable nation to join another is. Your history is steeped in Scottish rebels who couldn't roll over and die."

The Scottish Ambassador shot to his feet, slamming his hands furiously on the table. "Hans!" Justic exclaimed immediately, clamping a hand over his brother's mouth. "Do not reflect us into death or war," he hissed quietly. He looked at the Scottish Ambassador. "I apologize for my brother. He does not speak for the Southern Isles, or for Arendelle for that matter. He speaks for no one but himself. Caleb is the voice, I am the messenger. Hans just happens to be present for convenience's sake." As a secret weapon, he inwardly added. Namely to draw out the true intent of Denmark and Scotland. Hans was safe from thrusting Arendelle into war because Arendelle and Norway were of no concern to Scotland and Denmark. It wouldn't be worth it to war with them. Justic just had to make sure he did damage control well enough that they wouldn't take Hans' words out on the Southern Isles. Telling them flat out that Hans didn't speak for them absolved the SI of a lot of his brother's behavior while he was reflecting the two ambassadors.

"Yer miserable nation would no' hold a candle to either Scotland or Denmark ye pompous little shi…" the Scottish Ambassador began before willing himself to take a few deep breaths and calm down. Gradually he sat, glaring murderous daggers at them.

"You well know I myself identify as Scottish. About half of my brothers join me in that sentiment because Scotland is the nation to which we feel most connected. We mean you no offense," Justic said. "My little brother loses himself. Now that you've heard from the Danish fop…"

"Excuse me?!" the Danish ambassador and Hans immediately demanded simultaneously in outrage.

"No offense to you either! Just to him!" Justic quickly exclaimed, pointing at Hans. He should probably keep away from insulting his little brother in this situation, he determined. The Danish ambassador still looked peeved, but remained calm albeit glaring daggers. He probably had brothers too, Justic figured, and so was being more understanding than others would have been. "I chose my words poorly. Sibling rivalry I'm afraid. Let me start again. We…"

"Have fended both your nations off at the same time for years. We will continue to for as long as we are capable," Hans cut off. "If our miserable nation can't hold a candle to Scotland or Denmark, why have they to this day been unable to conquer us?" The ambassadors both cast dark, unimpressed looks at the prince.

"Putting aside my brother's ill attitude, allow me to finish. The Southern Isles is a proud kingdom, and our brother a proud king. Our intent is to remain independent for the remainder of our lifetimes, or at least Caleb's. That intent will stay with us until the sun sets on our brother's reign and perhaps beyond that, even into the next century. But as I have stated before, we all know how this will inevitably end. With the Southern Isles assimilating into either Scotland or Denmark. Let us not focus on when that change will take place. Let's focus instead on which nation will ultimately win control of us and settle it at that! Then leave us to live out the remainder of our time free of further animosities with your great nations. There is no need for bloodshed between Scotland and Denmark over the fate of the Southern Isles. We are willing to compromise in solidifying which of your countries we will become a part of when the time comes, but there will be no compromise on us integrating in our lifetime. Take that message back to your kings."

"Ye survive by the good graces of Scotland and Ireland," the Scottish Ambassador said. "Don't ye get to thinkin' you have any real power in your relationship with either of them."

"The Southern Isles will not be the excuse for further needless death and war between Scots and Danes," Hans said in a calmer tone than he had been using.

"No. But your refusal to compromise may mean much spilled blood of the islands," the Danish Ambassador ominously threatened. "We will send report of this summit to our respective kings. They will decide whether your words are to be heeded or ignored."

"You had determined this course long before we all met up," Hans darkly said. "No amount of reasoning or soft words would have swayed the either of you from pushing retaliation and invasion. Don't play us for fools. You came into this meeting determined that if you didn't leave with our submission, you would leave us with the threat of war." They glared dangerously at him then turned and left quickly.

Frozen

For a moment there was silence between Eric, Justic, and Hans. "What was that?" Eric asked in annoyance.

"The moment I set foot in this room I knew their intent, and I reflected their attitudes and intentions right back at them," Hans stated bitterly. "My parting words to them stand. We could have been all rainbows and sunshine and they still would have left this room and gone off to recommend retaliatory action. Hopefully their kings are smarter than the ambassadors, but I seriously doubt it." He looked at Justic. "We shouldn't stay here. Our lives could be in danger. The sooner you get back to Caleb and warn him of the approaching political storm, the better. It might not end in retaliation in the end, it could well be a scare tactic, but in case it does take a bad turn, he should be prepared."

"Agreed," Justic said, nodding.

"Now can I please go home to Elsa?" Hans said. "If potential violence becomes a serious concern in the coming months, I'd like to not know about it until I absolutely have to. I just want to go home and be with her for the final couple months of her pregnancy and maybe have at least a few more on top of that to be a father before I have to disappear."

"Quite a change from believing you'd be no kind of good father," Justic remarked.

"I probably won't be, but if I die in battle we'll never know, will we?" Hans replied. "I'd like to figure that aspect out before hand."

Justic sighed. "Very well. Thank you very much for your help, Hans. Take my ship and go home. I'll remain here a little longer with my friend," he said.

"And get assassinated," Hans flatly replied.

"Not on my watch," Eric replied. "I'll bring him home safe, don't worry. Drop him at Arendelle to pick up his ship, maybe visit Queen Elsa and you for a few days with Ariel and Melody, then be on my way while your brother goes on his."

"Fine," Hans replied. He looked at Justic. "I hope you know I'm leaving immediately."

"Hold off until tomorrow, brother dear. The crew needs rest. They're not all a bundle of boundless energy like your young backside is," Justic said. Wow acknowledging that made him feel old. Pretty soon he'd be in his mid to late forties! In less than a decade. Yikes. Time flew. And Caleb was already there, he, Jurgen, and Lars all. He could only imagine how his brothers felt about that. Hans smirked, chuckling.

Frozen

Hans ended up waiting a day before setting sail for Arendelle. He'd held off because the Danish Ambassador had determined to leave the day after the summit. The sudden change had been unexpected. Initially the man's plan had been to remain there a few days trying to change Justic's mind, so that he'd suddenly changed up that plan was unsettling and set off alarm bells for Hans. He had either received an extremely prompt reply from his king, wasn't waiting and was heading out to deliver news in person, or had had nefarious motives in mind, possibly ambush motives though Hans was probably being a bit paranoid. After all, the man wouldn't have arrived in a battleship like Jurgen had. Nevertheless, Hans didn't want to give Denmark opportunity to send out a ship actually equipped to fight, so waiting a day before departing had seemed like the smart thing to do. At the time.

It turned out it wasn't, and he should have left hot on the heels of the Danish ambassador or even sooner…

Smoke blackened the sun. The wind roared angrily, lightning tearing apart the sky and rain falling in torrents. The screams of terrified, doomed men echoed all around. Hans stood stalwart and stoic, standing next to the helmsman, his eyes taking in the sorry sight bitterly. Of course one of those famous Nordic storms would choose now to attack with a vengeance. Here he'd thought this year they'd be lucky. And leave it to happen in the middle of an ambush because the Danish king resented that the Southern Isles couldn't just lay down and die! It was only a matter of time, Hans had known. He hadn't been totally unprepared for this eventuality. He just hadn't expected the Danish king to be that on-the-ball. There was no way the man could have gotten a battleship out here so fast. Hans suspected a few had been sent along with the Ambassador's ship and had fallen off to lie in wait in case things didn't go in Denmark's favor. When the Ambassador delivered report of the summit, the king had sent word to the battleships to act. Or maybe had even planned before hand for a signal that would trigger an attack.

The onslaught had come suddenly with no warning. One moment he had been eating breakfast in the captain's cabin, the next he'd received two reports of Danish ships approaching aggressively and had begun to prepare for retaliation while at the same time sending word by carrier pigeon to his brother that he needed help effective immediately. So now here he was, fighting a battle at sea when his wife was in her last trimester and heavy with child!

And he wasn't there…

To say he was depressed was understating it. He was getting more and more depressed each minute that passed. They'd been fighting two days… Backup from Eric's kingdom had arrived at the close of the first. But still it was another day that he would be missing. Another chance it would be longer. Another moment lost. A further possibility that she would give birth and he wouldn't be there for it! He felt sick at heart that he was missing this. His whole mind was utterly consumed with thoughts about becoming a father. Now his whole mind had to be consumed with the possibility he was going to die here. This was happening. It was actually happening…

He tried to distract himself from the situation, letting his thoughts drift to home and family. Anna had been extremely depressed as of late. Sorrow that she hadn't been able to experience her own pregnancy all the way through. But Gerda was her strength, and Kristoff…

And he was Elsa's and he wasn't there…

There had been no tears or heartbreaking fight upon his leaving. She'd let it go easily enough trusting this would be a cut-and-dry diplomatic mission. Now here he was engaged in another bloody battle. When all was said and done there'd been one last moment between them, one last goodbye, and if he died here and now, that was the last memory she would have of him. A casual goodbye like he was going on a pleasure cruise. She would hate herself the rest of her life for not making it more meaningful, and her pain would be his fault, and now he was living with that agony every moment and praying he survived so he could fix it and really give her something to remember him by when he got back. Ugh, she would have been better off marrying Edvard, he grimly told himself. Edvard would have caused her far less heartache.

He focused once more on the battle when a sailor shouted that they were turning the tides. He scanned the dire scene. The enemy ships were retreating, he noted. Limping away barely managing to pull off. Some had sunk already, the Danish fleet humiliated by the ships of the Southern Isles and of Eric's kingdom. Eric whose own ship he was sailing next to now and struggling to keep in sight. His fleet was pursuing the damaged, broken Danish forces…

On those boats were fathers and would-be fathers… They just wanted to go home…

So did he, he noted to himself. But they didn't all get that luxury now, did they? His jaw twitched and he let out a shaking sigh, looking down. He raised the whistle around his neck to his lips and blew loud and shrill, a signal to the other ships to back off and let the enemy go. No more men needed to die on this miserable sea. They'd have enough trouble as it was making it back to shore in one piece in this hurricane. All of them would. Now those men could live and go home to their families… With luck this was the last battle that would need to be fought. Maybe at this point Scotland and Denmark would decide the prey they were fighting over was still too big to catch, and let it go. At least for a while longer…

"Hans, why are we letting them go?!" he heard Eric shout at him from his boat.

"If you were them, wouldn't you want to go home to Ariel and Melody?!" Hans called back. Eric didn't say another word. "You're going to soon become part of them besides! Best not make war with the nation you're assimilating into at the close of the year. Fall back to port!" Hans ordered.

"Agreed!" Eric replied. Soon after, Eric's whistle stopped his fleet from pursuing as well and they all made for the port of Eric's kingdom once more. The Scottish Ambassador watched on from the palace, arms folded and jaw clenched, unimpressed with their return…

Frozen

Needless to say, the plan changed. Eric sailed with Justic and Hans immediately to the Southern Isles, his ship and a few of his fleet escorting them to make sure they got back alright. On the Southern Isles, the report was made to Caleb of what had happened on the sea and at the summit. Needless to say, it didn't go over any kind of well…

"Why did you let them go?" Caleb icily demanded when Hans, kneeling before him, told his actions to his brother. About time he summed it all up with one question, Hans figured. Caleb had been chewing him out now for the last ten minutes about how foolish he'd been and some nonsense about a hydra and its heads and about how he'd drawn out potential war that much longer.

"They wanted to go home," he answered simply. "I don't regret my actions."

Caleb was silent. "You will when they come back and finally destroy you. You will when the last thing you think about before you drown in the icy waves is your wife and unborn child," he finally, bitterly, replied.

"With all due respect, Caleb, go to hell!" Hans replied with a scoff, voice tinged with anger. Rising, he turned and stormed out before his brother gave him permission to leave.

Eric watched after him in a measure of concern, then seemed to realize he had been left behind with Justic and a very, very peed off king of the Southern Isles. He blinked and turned to Caleb with eyes a bit wide. Caleb was glaring after Hans. "So… Some storm, huh?" he said finally.

Caleb blinked and looked at him in disbelief. Eric winced. Caleb frowned. "Why did you let him get away with that judgement?" he demanded.

"Because I'm a father," Eric answered.

"So am I!" Caleb shot.

"Might want to remind your children and yourself of that then," Eric said, frowning a bit.

"You little…" Caleb began.

"And that concludes the report! Eric, let's you and I take some time to just breathe and enjoy some measure of peace before drama starts up again, shall we?" Justic cut off quickly before Caleb could lose them the ally who'd gone out of his way to save them against his own soon-to-be country.

"Yes. Let's," Eric replied, glaring daggers at Caleb. Caleb watched them leave then let out a heavy, exhausted sigh, collapsing into a chair and massaging his temples in stress. What was done was done. All he could do now was prepare for the next attack.

Frozen

Hans was currently occupying his free time desperately writing to his wife. And to his various friends scattered all about. He'd sent letters to Charles ever since the falling out, but they'd gone unanswered. Rather, he'd answered one or two, but they'd gotten increasingly more impersonal and eventually had tapered off into a final one that, if you read between the lines, basically was a firm and final goodbye… He'd conceded to give the friendship up for lost at that point, to his sorrow. However, recently there had been some small sign of neutrality at least, if not friendship. A touching one in fact. He'd written one last time to tell Charles of the sea battle as well as the possibility there would be another, and had hoped to say goodbye if he didn't make it. He'd explained to him that he didn't want there to be ill-will between them and pled again for forgiveness and had stated he held no more grudge for himself.

Then the book came…

It was a manuscript of Charles'. No note accompanied it, just the manuscript. The Chimes. That was the name of the book… And it had been dedicated to him… He didn't know what to make of it, frankly. He hadn't written back, only read the tale and smiled bittersweetly as he did, grieved but at the same time with some small measure of hope restored to him that maybe one day there could be repair again. If he survived. Here he was in the middle of a tumultuous land far from home and at risk of ending up fighting more nightmarish skirmishes at sea, and there was a so very painfully real possibility he would miss his child's birth… He hated that so, so, so much. Of course, at the moment he was hating everything and every party involved in this whole political fiasco.

He reached into his desk, pulling out some papers and a quill. He looked at a picture of Elsa sitting on his desk and rested his head on a hand in grief, staring at it. Gods he missed her… He hoped she was faring well… He hoped she would forgive him for this…

Frozen

Caleb read through the letter he'd received silently, as he sat for breakfast in the dining hall. A frown pulled at his lips, but not an angry or concerned one, more a confused and mystified one. "It seems I owe you an apology, Hans," he finally said.

Hans snorted in derision. "That's something I never thought I'd hear," he flatly replied.

Caleb gave him a sharp, scathing look. "Get over yourself," he all but sneered. Hans started to open his mouth to lash out, but quickly Eric cut in.

"What does it say?!" he blurted before Hans could freak. Which earned him a vicious scowl from Hans, but also shut the prince up.

"The king of Denmark has written to me, thanking me for letting his ships come home. He expresses his awe at the mercy shown him and his men and vows to leave the Southern Isles be until the time I or my descendants should so choose to hand it over to his power or Scotland's," he answered.

"But that still leaves Scotland breathing down our necks," Hans said.

"Denmark will fight with us against Scotland to drive them back and off our shores, should it come down to it," Caleb said. "Denmark has pledged us its alliance and this time has no intentions of giving it up again."

Silence. "What does this mean? Ultimately?" Connyn asked.

Caleb looked at Hans. "It means Hans can go home," he said finally. "We can grant him this. He has something far, far more important to do than die in a pointless skirmish."

Hans started. "Wh-what?" he asked.

"Go home, Hans. Go back to your wife," Caleb said.

"Are-are you serious?" Hans asked.

"You're among our best, and it'll be a tragedy to lose your expertise should Scotland act out against us, but we can handle matters without you," Jurgen said for Caleb, smirking at Hans. Hans was up and already halfway out the door before Jurgen was finished speaking, leaving what was left of his breakfast behind.

"His presence here could have saved lives, should battle break out," Eric finally said after a moment. "I would sail alongside no other say Jurgen."

"That's your choice to make. That said, if you're so desperate as that, then you'll be more than welcome to sail alongside me should we need your help at any point," Jurgen said. "But Hans has a heavily pregnant wife at home who's on the verge of popping their child out, so yeah." Eric nodded in understanding.