A/N: Thanks for all the reads, reviews, and follows! You guys are awesome, as per usual. Keep it up! And also, I do not own Frozen. Nope.

*WARNING* MILD LANGUAGE AHEAD

The night ended up passing very quickly. At least, it did for Alek. When she awoke, the sun spilled unevenly into her overlarge room through the open curtains that usually covered her view of the fjord at night. She did not remember coming to her bed last night. In fact, the previous evening was such a blur in her tired mind that she remembered very little.

Unfortunately, her nightmares never left her alone for long, and as she laid her clothes out for the day, dark images seeped back into her hazy memory.

" . . . She's mine," he admitted in a guttural moan. ". . . You both are."

Alek had sucked in an unnecessary breath at the confession. Scum as he was, her father's words struck a blow to her gut, but not in the way she was used to. If he was telling the truth . . . She almost couldn't allow herself to hope, but it was useless. She had a sister.

"And you didn't want me. Reiner took me in the middle of the night and you didn't so much as blink. It's been eight years . . . Why now?"

This was obviously the question he did not want to hear, as another low growl forced its way through his teeth. As if he were some sort of animal. But Alek couldn't find it in her to be afraid anymore. Instead, she raised her hands as if to cast magic on him directly, and demanded an answer yet again, louder this time.

"I didn't come to take you back, if that's what you hoped," he spat.

"Not even a little," she admitted with a sneer.

"I came to find you – you little witch – to get you to remove the curse."

That brought the girl up short. Her hands lowered just slightly beyond her control, but she tried to remain firm despite the confusion.

"What curse?" She pondered in a small voice.

"Don't play stupid, filthy brat. Just take the curse off of Kit."

"What curse?!" Alek repeated, unable to grasp what her father was speaking of.

"The curse you put on your mother. The one that spread to Kit. Get rid of it!" He demanded, wrapping his bruised hands around the thick bars.

"I didn't curse either one of them!"

"Don't lie!" He shouted, attempting with fierce might to snap the metal between his fingers in half.

"Why do you think I cursed them?"

His face was blood red now. Veins popped from his forehead so violently that Alek absentmindedly wondered if one might bust and spray her night clothes with his blood. If she was being honest with herself . . . It frightened her a little.

"Kit has the same magic you did at that age. She makes things move around without touching them, she causes me pain if I upset her, and . . . She killed Margaret." His voice dropped so much on the last word that Alek almost missed her mother's name.

"What?!" Alek gasped, the word no more than a whisper on her tongue.

"Margaret is dead. She died as Kit was born."

Oh.

Alek managed a rough breath at that. Her sister had not, in fact, murdered anyone in cold blood. No, her mother had merely died in childbirth. It happened far more often than people were comfortable with, especially when the father of the child was a lunatic and refused the help of a midwife who knew how to keep such things from happening. Margaret had been lucky to survive Alek, let alone her sister. None of them were cursed, only very unfortunate.

"So you think I can just wave my hands around and Kit will be normal? You think I can take away her magic?"

"You can, and you will," he snarled.

Before she knew what was happening, Alek felt hot tears running down her cheeks. She wiped at them furiously with one hand, keeping the other held defensively toward her father, but it was no use. The crying would not be held in anymore, and she knew that soon it would be uncontrollable.

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but – actually, you know what? I don't hate telling you this. I'm glad I get to be the one to tell you: Kit isn't cursed and neither am I. We are both witches. We both have magic and there is nothing you can do about it."

"Shut up! Shut up you stupid little bitch! I'll kill you myself, and then I'll kill her!"

"NO!"

Much to her chagrin, Alek had literally lost her mind at his words. She had exploded in every sense of the phrase. Her magic had sprayed from her fingers without restraint, an unseen wave of pure force throwing her father against the stone of his cell with such strength that his bones cracked upon impact and he crumpled to the floor limply, unmoving. She had screamed and cried for several long minutes, until her voice had nearly left her. Only when she was midway up the stairs did she release the guards from their deep, safe sleep, and then proceeded to run to her mother's room to cry the rest of her feelings away.

Alek knew that Elsa was frustrated with her. Though her crying fit impeded all judgement and sense the night before, it was plain. She only hoped that Elsa would have a little more mercy than her father used to with her punishments. The more logical side of her mind understood that Elsa was not as cruel as he was, but the unreasonable part of her that remained a child would not be convinced. Her hands shook even thinking about Elsa doing those awful things.

Alek tried not to let the thoughts consume her, but altogether it was a futile task. Luckily, there was a quiet knock on her door to interrupt her morbid daydreams.

"Are you awake, kjære?" Elsa's gentle voice sounded from the far side of Alek's door.

"Yes, Mama," Alek replied in a small voice that barely escaped shaking.

The door opened to reveal the Snow Queen of Arendelle in all of her icy splendor. Elsa wore one of her custom ice dresses that fitted her frame snugly and sparkled like diamonds no matter how she moved. Her usually well-kept hair was down today; the platinum locks were braided with care and now rested with accidental grace against the queen's right shoulder.

Alek loved it when her mother dressed this way. In truth, she preferred it just the slightest bit more than when the young monarch tried to look more formal and less "Ice Queen-y" as Aunt Anna so eloquently put it. Of course, Elsa was beautiful no matter what she wore, and her daughter was sure she would never reach that level of grace or beauty. But days like today reminded the girl of when she had first met the queen. She had seemed more laid-back, more casual than she had first imagined a powerful queen to be. Elsa was normal, and that had relaxed Alek enough to get to know the young royal by more than just her title.

"How are you feeling this morning, little love?"

Alek could only shake her head as she stared at her toes. Words were failing her beyond reason and she couldn't help but feel ashamed.

"Did you sleep well, at least?"

Again, the answer was no, so Alek repeated the action, much to Elsa's disappointment. But instead of chastising Alek like most would be so inclined to do, Elsa simply smiled with a small curve to her delicate lips, and pulled her daughter into a tight hug. Her head was bent awkwardly, her mouth nearly at Alek's ear, as she spoke.

"I didn't either, sweetheart, it's okay. But Gerda helped me get a bath this morning, and now I feel substantially better. Why don't I help you with yours?"

Alek could hear the smile in her mother's voice, and it soothed her frayed nerves like a warm blanket. She pulled away to nod her agreement before Elsa lead the way to the tub with a gentle touch.