Victor looks up at the window and sees a figure standing there, the moonlight behind them, darkening their features. His first instinct is to recoil and try to find something to protect himself –Yakov has told him many times that the world out there is dangerous and full of selfish, evil people who would try to take advantage of him and use his magic for their benefit. But he barely has enough time to react to that instinctual fear or process what's going on because Makkachin woofs and the figure yelps, trips inside the room, slips on the ice falling on their butt and starts giggling.

Well, that didn't look very threatening.

"Are you alright?" Victor asks without thinking, gliding towards the giggling figure and leaning down to offer a hand and help them up. When he reaches down and finds himself face to face with the stranger, the moonlight illuminates their features, and Victor gasps.

Oh.

Wow.

He can feel warmth rush to his face.

This person is…

"Beautiful…"

His own voice sounds so affected he barely realizes he's just spoken, but Victor can hardly think of it, too focused in the stranger's smooth skin and soft cheeks, their bright grin and sparkling warm eyes and the clear tinkling of their laughter that immediately fills the whole room.

The stranger finally seems to notice Victor's even there, and their expression brightens even more, if that was even possible, their brown eyes wide with wonder, like they're seeing the most amazing sight in the whole wide world.

"You're so beautiful." They drawl, their voice is fuzzy, and they grab Victor's hand to stand back up still giggling. They stumble a little, holding on to Victor's hand like a lifeline, trying not to slip again. "Dance with me!" they chirp, as if not even aware of how precarious the balance on their feet is.

Victor's heart does a funny thing in his chest, like it jumps. Maybe this is what all those romance stories mean when they say your heart skips a beat. And the stranger pulls him, clumsily spinning and twisting on the ice, laughing vibrantly, and every move they makes is music, like the melody of the wind and chiming bells, and a song Victor's never heard and yet plays in his mind like he's known it since the day he was born.

The stranger almost slips again, but Victor manages to catch them, drawing one arm around their waist, pulling them closer to keep them stable on their feet, anything to continue dancing. The stranger doesn't even seem to notice their own fumbling, as they giggle and try to nudge Victor into another spin "I'm Yuuri!" they say, and Victor's eyes widen.

"Yuuri." he repeats, and there's something sweet and nostalgic about that name, something precious, but he can't really pinpoint what it is. But does it matter, when Yuuri's vibrating in his arms, when he's smiling at Victor like he's the one that makes the Moon shine, when his eyes are so warm Victor almost forgets he's standing on ice, when he squirms and wiggles until Victor finds himself being led around by Yuuri's clumsy dancing and laughing and laughing until he's completely breathless, yet wants nothing less than to catch some air if that means they'll have to stop dancing.

"I'm Victor!" he beams, his blood thrumming with delight as Yuuri's arm sneaks around him to dip him down so low he'd probably feel the coldness of the ice on the back of his neck, except he doesn't because Yuuri's so, so warm and he's so bright and so gentle he reminds Victor of the sun.

He reaches out to graze Yuuri's cheek with his hand and Yuuri leans into the touch, making Victor's heart skip another beat. "Victor…" Yuuri breathes, and Victor's never loved his own name as much as he does when he hears it spoken in Yuuri's voice. "So beautiful…" and the pure awe in Yuuri's eyes makes Victor's chest ache.

This is it, he thinks, lost in the depth of Yuuri's gaze, the feeling he's been craving for, what he's always dreamed of. A beautiful stranger coming to find him, having his heart completely taken by the warmth of his touch, dancing together under the moonlight to a happily ever after, just like the fairytales he's always admired. And he thinks, with the way Yuuri's looking at him, with the way he's inching closer and closer, that maybe Yuuri's also feeling the same.

Suddenly Yuuri's gone, Victor's been dropped and he squeaks when his butt hits the cold ice. He looks around, briefly terrified that Yuuri's been nothing but a dream, but he quickly finds Yuuri lying flat on his back, unmoving, with a large furry body on top of his.

"Makkachin!" he whines, scrambling back to where Yuuri is, nudging Makkachin off his beautiful stranger. "I'm so sorry, Yuuri, he gets excited very easily and…" he cuts himself off when he realizes Yuuri's not moving and his eyes are closed. He panics again, this time fearing the worst, but that too quickly dissipates when he notices Yuuri mumbling in a language he doesn't understand, occasionally slurring out words like "Beautiful" and "Victor" and "my Prince" interlaced with hiccups and giggles. Victor studies Yuuri's cheerful expression, wondering what it is that he's dreaming about. Does he think Victor is a prince? Will he be disappointed when he realizes he's not? The thought makes his chest clench.

Yuuri shivers, and as much as he regrets the abrupt end to their dance, Victor can't leave him freezing on the ice, so he uses all of his strength to pick him up in his arms, struggles to step off his dancing blades and wobbles upstairs, his hair occasionally catching on corners (what's all the magic in the world worth for if it's going to make Victor trip and drop his Yuuri, Victor doesn't know), to gently lay Yuuri on his soft bed. Yuuri still giggles occasionally, but his breathing has turned slow and even. He looks cute like this, the smile on his lips impossibly sweet.

Victor kneels by the bed and crosses his arms over the mattress, so he can rest his head on them and sighs. He almost wishes he could stay up watching Yuuri's sleeping face, but perhaps the excitement of tonight has exhausted him, because his eyes feel heavy and his head is in such a comfortable position he lets himself succumb to sleep.

For the first time in many years, Victor is excited to wake up tomorrow, to see what kind of surprises Yuuri will show him.

The doors to the throne room are pulled open slowly. The soldier takes a deep breath to calm himself and looks up at the King Regent who sits on a purple velvet cushion, a stern look on his face, his hand resting on the gold-plated armrest. The throne itself is new, and much more luxurious than the old one. The soldier has been coming and going from the castle for many years now, but this new throne has more precious gems than he's seen in all his life.

"Captain Yuri Plisetsky." one of the guards at the door announces, and Yuri stops examining the huge gems on the King's new throne to strut into the room and kneel, gaze fixed on the crimson carpet, bracing himself for what's coming.

"It seems you let those criminals escape again, Captain." The Regent speaks, his voice calm, but cold.

Yuri tightens his fist. "We lost sight of the winter dancers when they ran into the woods." He explains through gritted teeth.

"This is the third time you fail to capture any of these outlaws. Are the responsibilities of command too much for you to handle, perhaps?"

Yuri bites back a snarl. "No, sir, I apologize. It won't happen again."

The Regent hums, pensively. "Indeed, it won't." he says, and Yuri already knows he won't like what he's about to hear. "You are to leave immediately to search for these fugitives." He makes a sign to one of the servants who walks up to Yuri and hands him a stack of papers. It only takes a quick glance to understand. "I have put prices on them, so it shouldn't be too hard. You are very beloved by our people, Captain, I'm sure they'll be glad to help. And as proof of my faith in your abilities, you won't be allowed back in the city until you have them under arrest. Understood?"

Yuri snaps, turning to look at the King Regent, who's wearing an almost imperceptible smug smile. He clutches the papers in his hand tightly, and it takes all of his self-control to hold back what he actually wants to say. "Your highness, if I may be honest, I believe there are more pressing issues in the kingdom that would require my attention." He says instead, trying his best to keep his own expression as neutral as possible.

The King Regent frowns, his gaze turns even colder.

"Are you perhaps suggesting that these blatant mockeries of our beloved prince should go unpunished? Or are you presuming you are better qualified to decide what should take priority in this kingdom?"

Yuri stiffens "N-no, Your Highness." he rushes to say, turning to look down at the ground. "I apologize for my insolence." And he bites his tongue until he tastes blood to stop anything imprudent from spilling out.

The King waves his hand, uninterested. "And one more thing. You are to go alone. We could not afford to expend more men on such an unimportant task, could we, Captain?" his voice is still calm and cold, but there's a satisfied lilt to it. "You are dismissed."

Yuri wants to protest, but knows it will only worsen his situation, so he bows again and walks out of the room, his fists clenched so tight his nails are biting into his palm, crumpling the 'Wanted' posters on his left hand. Once the doors close behind him, he lets go of a long, frustrated growl.

"Oi, are you really gonna do that? It's so stupid!" Mila pipes in, her red hair bouncing as she pops up from behind a column, reaching to take the posters from Yuri's hands.

Yuri sighs, keeping the posters away from Mila. "I have no choice, do I?"

She pouts, leaning all her weight against his side. "Awww, and I was so looking forward to your birthday party! Georgi and I have been planning it for weeks!"

Maybe this sucky assignment was a blessing after all. "Like hell I want a birthday party, especially organized by you and fucking Georgi." He barks, pulling away, leaving Mila leaning on air. He smirks a little when she falls.

"I'm coming with you."

Yuri looks up to meet Otabek's dark eyes. He's leaning against the wall, his hand resting leisurely on the handle of his sword. His expression betrays no emotion other than silent determination. Yuri swallows around the knot at the base of his throat.

"No, you heard him, I have to do this alone." Otabek opens his mouth, ready to argue. Yuri's a little surprised by how upset he seems. "And someone needs to be in charge of the soldiers while I'm gone, no way in hell I'm letting this old hag do that." He continues, pointing at Mila, before Otabek can protest.

"Say that again and I'll throw you out the window, little Captain. I can still lift you, in case you've forgotten."

Yuri snarls at her and stomps down the corridor, towards the castle gates. Some of the Regent's private guards whisper as he walks by, some of them laugh. They're probably having the time of their lives, seeing the great and prodigious Yuri Plisetsky humiliated. His own men have always been loyal –if notoriously annoying-, but the King Regent's soldiers never took too well to having a man so young –and a commoner to boot- promoted to such a prestigious position.

Mila and Otabek walk with him to the stables, where he saddles his mare, thrusting the crumpled posters in one of his travel bags. He bites his lip as he gazes at the names and drawings.

"Aren't you going to visit your Grandpa before leaving?" Mila asks, holding an apple for the mare to munch on as they pull her out of the stables.

Yuri hesitates just as he's about to get on the saddle. "No." he says after a moment. "I don't want him to get worried thinking the King's got his eye on me. This should be over fast." He says, and he's not sure if he's trying to reassure Mila or himself.

Otabek places a hand on his forearm, effectively stopping him from grabbing the reins. "You can't blame us for worrying. These dancers you're chasing are apparently fast enough to outrun Agape, the fastest mare in the kingdom, on foot." He pats the mare's white neck gently, but the gaze he levels at Yuri is pointed and meaningful.

Yuri looks away, shaking Otabek's arm off and reaching for the reins. "I'll do my job. That's all." He says coldly and nudges Agape to start walking. "Oh, and can you bring Pyotya to my Grandpa's place? Since I won't be around for… a few days." He knows it'll be more than that, but he doesn't really want to think about it. He just hopes his cat won't completely forget about him in the time he's gone.

"Sure. I'll look after both of them." Otabek still looks like he wants to argue, but he smiles at Yuri, and even know he can tell he's forcing it, it still makes him blush a little.

"Thanks, I really... I'll be back soon."

He calls on the mare to pick up some speed as he approaches the city gates and only looks back once to see both Mila yelling "We'll have lots of birthday pirozhki when you come back, so do it quickly!" and Otabek waving at him. The mare turns to full gallop as they leave the city and Yuri knows where he has to start searching.

Victor doesn't remember the last time he was awakened by something other than the first streaks of daylight. There's an annoying noise somewhere in the distance this morning, but he's reluctant to open his eyes, not because he dreads the boredom of another uneventful day, but because he feels so warm and comfortable he can't even entertain the thought of leaving his bed.

"VITYA!"

His eyes fly open as his ears process the hollering voice and what it means (jesus, how can he scream so loud?). He's not actually on his bed, and his knees hurt and his legs are a little numb from the awkward position he slept in, but he's not particularly concerned about it. He stops, briefly, to contemplate Yuuri's still sleeping face, delights himself knowing the magic he felt last night was real, that he didn't dream it all. He can't afford to linger though, or Yakov might think something's happened. And something has indeed happened, and Victor can't wait to tell Yakov all about it. Surely, once he meets Yuuri, he'll be as charmed as Victor is, and will allow Victor to leave the tower, since he'll have a kind and sweet companion to protect him from all of those greedy, scary people Yakov's taught him to fear.

It's almost thrilling to throw his hair out the window and pull Yakov up, so excited he is to tell his guardian of the good news. He's forced to tamper his excitement, for Yakov's expression is grim and sour when he steps into the tower.

"What on Earth were you doing? I was worried when you didn't answer!" he barked, grabbing Victor's shoulders.

"I-I… I'm sorry, Yakov." Victor stammers, taken aback by Yakov's dramatic reaction. "I was sleeping."

Yakov raises an eyebrow, his hands dropping for Victor's shoulders. "Sleeping? You never sleep so late." He states, crossing his arms over his chest. "You haven't even brushed your hair." He notes, gaze travelling to what Victor assumes are fuzzes of Makkachin's fur and dirt stuck at random places all over his long, long silver hair.

Victor smiles nervously. He wanted to lead the conversation to Yuuri slowly, but since Yakov's bringing it up…

"Yes, actually. I had the most wonderful evening and it left me drained. You'll never guess what happened last night."

His little tease seems to catch Yakov's interest. "Oh? And what was it, exactly?" His tone is incredulous and yet somehow displeased. Victor frowns. Yakov can be such a stick in the mud sometimes (most of the time).

"Well, remember how you've been telling me all these years that the world outside is so dangerous and full of people that can't be trusted?" he inquires, waving at Yakov to follow him. He intends to take Yakov to his bedroom so he can see Yuuri's adorable sleeping face; certain that one quick glance will be enough to convince Yakov of how trustworthy he is. "Because I think I've found something that will solve the problem!"

Yakov's scowl deepens as the climb up the stairs to Victor's room. "Solve the problem?" he repeats, his voice dropping an octave, and Victor hesitates for a brief moment.

"Y-yes, I've found a way that I can leave and not—"

"You're not leaving this tower, Vitya. I told you not to ask anymore."

Victor' feels a knot forming at the base of his throat. "But, Yakov, just listen—"

"I said no, the dangers outside aren't just going to magically disappear because you want them to."

"But if you'd just see—"

"Stop this foolishness, Victor!"

Victor stops dead in his tracks, his heart plummeting to the ground.

"I don't care what nonsense you think you've come up with, it's too dangerous outside, now more than ever. I told you to drop it already, won't you ever listen to what I tell you?"

Victor clenches his fist and bites back the tears. If only Yakov would meet Yuuri he would-.

"So what is it you want to show me?"

He glances upstairs quickly, but Victor blocks his path before he can continue his way to his room. "Nothing!" he blurts, trying to smile. "Like you said, it's meaningless." He realizes Yakov might do something to Yuuri if he finds him whilst being so upset, and Victor's not going to take that risk. "I'll just, uh… I thought I'd left my brush upstairs, but I just remembered it's in the kitchen. I really need to do something about this." he gestures at the knots and tangles in his hair, hoping it makes for a convincing change of subject.

Yakov considers it for a moment, studying Victor closely with his scrutinizing gaze, but he nods at last and turns back to return downstairs. He glances upstairs one more time and sighs, swallowing his disappointment as best he can.

As Yakov brushes his hair slowly, a little forcefully on some of the knots, Victor's mind races. What should he do about Yuuri? Yakov won't let him leave, but he doesn't even want to fathom the idea of letting Yuuri go and staying alone in this tower once again. It's just unthinkable. After getting that taste of life and joy, he doesn't want to go back to his boring, solitary routine. But he can't keep Yuuri trapped in the tower, and if he wakes up and comes down, Yakov will see him. Victor's not sure how that last scenario would play out, but he's certain it won't be enjoyable. He needs to get rid of Yakov so he gets some time to think of what he'll do.

Munching on an apple he thinks about the line of the seasons he painted on his wall, of how the sunlight hovered a breath away from the mark of the Winter equinox. His birthday is in four days and he'd been so sure Yakov would let him go see the lights if he met Yuuri, the mere thought of having to watch from afar, in the darkness of this tower yet again, makes his eyes sting. Yakov comes to check on him every day, so even if he sneaks out today, Yakov will find out tomorrow and come chase him, and it's not like Victor's going to get too far too fast dragging all this hair behind him. If only there were some way to keep Yakov away for a few days, so Victor has time to go see the lights with Yuuri, then come back, Yakov would never know and—

Oh.

He jolts in his seat.

"Yakov! I know what I want for my birthday!"

"I already said-"

"No, no! Not the lights." He tries to tamper his excitement, or Yakov might think (realize) he's lying. "I want new dancing blades."

Yakov eyes him suspiciously. "I just brought you a new pair in Spring."

Victor sighs dramatically whipping his head in fake dejection, his long hair falling out of Yakov's grasp. "Well, I need new ones. It's not like I have a lot to do in here, so I use them a lot."

By the look on Yakov's face, Victor knows he's not really sold on his excuse and he's afraid his ruse has been discovered, but Yakov just grunts and leans back in his chair. "Fine. Do you want me to bring them tomorrow or can you wait until your actual birthday?"

That's exactly the question Victor was hoping to hear. He beams "No, no! I don't want just any pair of blades." He rushes to his bookshelf, thumbing through the tomes for a moment until he finds what he's looking for, then skips back to where Yakov sits. He flips through the book pages until he finds a two-page illustration of a winter dancer, pointing at the blades he's wearing. "I want them to be gold!"

Yakov looks up at him and frowns. "You can't have blades made of gold. They'd be too heavy to dance."

Victor purses his lips, affronted. "Well, maybe not entirely made of gold, but surely you can figure something out? Please, Yakov, they look beautiful!" he jabs his finger at the illustration that emphasizes the golden glint of the blades, eyes sparkling. He may have come up with this wish on the fly, but he's getting excited about the idea nonetheless.

"There might be a way, but they won't be easy to get. They wouldn't be ready for your birthday." Yakov hums, eyeing the illustration for a moment, his scowl deepening. "And I wouldn't be able to come for a week at best, probably even more."

It takes all of Victor's self-control not to cheer triumphantly. This is better than expected. "Please, please, pleeeeease, Yakov, I'll never ask for anything else again, I swear." He whines, joining his hands as if in prayer, even managing to force a couple of fake tears to the corners of his eyes.

Yakov groans. "You say the exact same thing every time you ask for something." He says, but Victor knows he's won. "Are you sure you'll be fine on your own for so long?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Of course! I won't be alone, I'll have Makkachin!" And Yuuri, he thinks withholding the overly-pleased grin pulling at the corners of his mouth "And you brought me provisions yesterday, so we'll be perfectly fine, right buddy?"

Makkachin barks in agreement and Victor hugs him to make a point. Yakov sighs and stands from the table.

"Alright then. I'll leave right away so I can get back as soon as possible." He looks up at Victor, his brows still furrowed with worry. "Don't do anything reckless, Vitya."

"I won't, I promise." He says, almost regretting it all. Yakov's always been good to him and lying to him feels terrible. But he thinks of all these years dreaming of seeing the lights, and the music of Yuuri's dancing, and how Yakov wouldn't even listen to what he had to say, and knows there's no going back now. "Dasvidanya." He says, and kisses Yakov's cheek before helping him on the platform so he can lower him back to the snow-covered ground.

As soon as he's lost sight of Yakov, his figure disappearing in the woods, Victor rushes upstairs to check on Yuuri, and is surprised to find him sitting on the bed with his eyes wide open, frantically patting the sheets around him as if searching for something.

"Yuuri, good morning!" he beams, bouncing on the mattress to sit next to him. "How did you sleep? Do you need anything? Are you hungry?" he fires rapidly, heart hammering in his chest with excitement.

Yuuri shrieks.

"W-who are you?"

To be continued

Plot Twist: The only thing Yuuri's stealing in this AU is Victor's heart, Part II

I'm just so terribly inspired I wrote this chapter in like two days? That hasn't happened in a while? I'm really happy with how Victor's scene with Yakov turned out -I've been building for that 'you always say it's the last' joke since chapter 2, pls appreciate it-, as well as drunk dancing with Yuuri. I hope you guys liked it too

Yurio finally makes his official appearance, I feel the scene is a little awkward, but I needed to get it out. Although he's the one that's gonna be chasing our boys, his role is going to be quite different from Max in Tangled (for some reason many have made him a literal horse when doing this AU? LOL?), so I'm excited to show you everything that I've planned for him. Like I literally can't wait.

In case anyone was wondering, Victor is 26 (soon 27), Yuuri is 24 and Yurio is 18 (soon to be 19). I wanted to keep them in their canon ages and birthdays, but for plot-related reasons, Yurio's stats had to be changed. I don't know what happened during my outlining process, but suddenly most of the non-romance plot came to depend heavily on Yurio, oops. All will become clear eventually. Yuuri's a year older because... well if you paid attention to the first two chapters, there's a little hint there, but it's mostly for my own satisfaction, I'm just used to Yuuri being 24 now.

I feel like maybe I'm screaming at the void, but I'd really love to hear your thoughts on this. I'm majorly excited about this story and it's a little disheartening that it doesn't seem to be gathering much interest. Never underestimate how important comments are for us writers, we wither and die without them ;-;

If you enjoy my work, you can support me on my or Ko-Fi. I also have open writing commissions, for anyone who wants me to write for hem, but since I can't put links here, send me a PM if you want more details.

Thanks a lot for reading and I'll be waiting with baited breathe to hear your opinions and theories.