AN: Ok, so I'm totally spoiling you all but I'm loving every moment of it :) You guys are super awesome, I love your feedback and the amount of you who have added this story to a favorite or alert. Thank you all for your suport - it means a lot to me!

Enjoy~


Theme 12: Kingdom

"What should I get you?"

Summer was high in Albion, the brilliant blue of the sky and delicate white clouds the most perfect of backdrops for an afternoon on the terrace. Carefully scattered with plush benches of every size and make, the tiles expanse of their summer manor was the envy of every noblewoman in the kingdom. Not that either the Queen or her brother were aware, their attention too much involved with what to get from the kitchen on such a warm day.

Having spent the better part of the morning working on all the official documents that came with ruling a kingdom, Rose had called a break at the midday to luxuriate in the very Auroran weather that had come upon Albion.

Dressed in a light green sundress with great billowing sleeves, Rose enjoyed the caress of the breeze on her skin and the warmth of the sun on her face. Heat and comfort seemed to have all but disappeared since her deal with Theresa, her body slow to warm beneath blankets, her fingers and toes cold at the tips.

"Rose?" Rough hands pressed to her forehead, "What did you want to drink?"

"Hmm?" Focusing on the man and not the glorious sky behind him, Rose caught the flicker of concern before he could hide it. Still, she knew better than ask him. Instead she gave him her best smile, feigning a vivaciousness she didn't quite feel.

"I'll just have water, Logan."

The moment he left, her smile faltered, drawn downwards by the words Reaver had told her, the spun tales of truth and lie that refused to become untangled. But she had to figure it out, if just to know that her brother was truly safe and not a pawn in a game where there could only the younger sibling lived and became a hero.

Frowning, she rubbed at her forehead, feeling the beginnings of headache that had everything to do with fatigue. The nagging sense that she was running out of time to decode Reaver's words were becoming increasingly apparent as each day seemed harder and harder to face, to raise herself from her bed.

Trying to still the tremor of her hands, Rose clenched them in the delicate layers of her dress, careless of the wrinkles she created there.

"Rose."

A chalice of water, chilled with ice and infused with some strange fruit appeared before her, patiently held as she slowly gathered the strength to lift her arms and receive it in her palms.

"Thank you."

Taking a sip, Rose took a moment to savor its icy tang before settling it in her lap, unable to raise her arms any longer.

Eyes straying to where her brother had just sat, she smiled at the picture her made, his dark hair messily combed, booted feet propped against the small salon table, a book open on his lap.

Ever the same, he looked much the same he had when they had been children, visiting their mother's adopted family here. Always willing to find adventure, Rose had spent many a season checking the house from top to bottom in search of some secret. Logan had always contented himself with books, studying and swordplay. It was only as they had gotten older that Rose had been able to join him, and even then, combat had taken second place to court etiquette.

"Logan, I want you to dance with me."

The words were out of her mouth before she realized she had spoken. Memories weighing heavily in the air, Rose could still see her younger self going through the motions of the waltz, her brother waiting patiently for her to stop thinking and start moving.

Looking up from his novel, the Logan stared at her blankly for a moment, not quite understanding. Putting down his glass and folding the book properly back, the fallen king kept his face carefully neutral as he watched his too-pale sister suddenly come alive at such a prospect.

"It's been years, I know that. But what do you think? Might we try it once more?"

She seemed suddenly alight with energy; his expression was more akin to worry than acceptance.

"Won't you please join me?" her smile was genuine as she rose graceful to her feet, the delicate jade gauze slipping over her body with fluid grace, accentuating the curve of her back as she straightened. Rising to the tips of her toes in a display of skill, Rose grinned as she tugged him upwards.

"Don't think I've forgotten, mother made us both take dance lessons."

Drawing him away from the benches and towards the small clearing by the burbling fountain on the lawn, the Queen of Albion seemed suddenly as she once had been, flush with life and vitality.

Smiling winsomely at her brother, dressed in his customarily drab white tunic and black breeches, she waited until he was close enough before she stepped into position. Half expecting him to refuse her, it was with some pleasant surprise that she found his hand on her waist, the other gently clasping her smaller hand in the appropriate pose.

"You haven't forgotten it at all, have you?"

Rose laughed at him, eyes sparkling as she caught the barest of smiles in response to her teasing.

And then they were in motion, whirling gracefully as each step propelled them into the next, left, right, cross, until it was not just one step but a single fluid dance. Bodies pressed together, every shift an action of two hearts beating to a common rhythm, two minds thinking as one.

Inhaling as she moved with him, Rose caught the familiar scent of him as he pulled her close for one step, releasing her in the next. Dark and musky, there was a lingering sweetness to him that Rose could only ever seem to sense when she shut her eyes, forgetting everything else.

And yet, when she opened her eyes, the bright daylight revealed the strong lines of his shoulders, his neck and arms through the deceptively thin linen tunic he wore.

He was a handsome man, her brother.

Tilting her head, Rose was pleased by the thought though it was not one that had occurred to her before. She had always admired Logan. As a young girl he had seemed so much older, so much more in command of himself and others. Harsh or cold some would say, but Rose could not remember a time when he had not treated her gently, shielded her from the cruel truths of reality until she had been old enough to accept them.

And even then, she mused, perhaps she had not had to accept all of them.

There was only one dark mark against him, and even then she could not help but forgive him for his cruelties. It was, perhaps, the weakness of being the younger sibling that she would so readily forgive him.

Catching the glint of dark eyes, Rose smiled tenderly as she continued through their intricate motions, finding him precisely where he should be at every turn. The warm hands on her waist, clasping her hand, were confident as they steered her around, leading but not pulling.

Around and around, each touch, graze and caress seemed to last a life time, each moment drawing the breath from her lungs as she looked into his eyes and saw her image reflected there. They were the heart of Albion, both he and her, pulsing with the lifeblood of the kingdom, carrying the legacy of heroes.

There was the beat of his heart through his chest, the pulse of his blood in the heat of his hand. Rose seemed to drown in the sensations, the smell and sight and feel of him.

And then, just as it had begun, so too did it have to end.

Gently touching him on the cheek, flushed from their exertions though not nearly as red as her own, Rose grinned. Eyes alight, she laughed as his arms shifted, firmly holding her in place when she swayed on her feet.

"It has been a very long time since I'd done that."

Sighing in contentment and the soft ache in her feet, Rose didn't complain when he collected her in his arms and carried her to the couch. Turning so that he would sit first, Rose found herself nestled comfortably across Logan's long legs, head resting against his neck when she closed her eyes to try and catch her breath.

And though she eventually felt the tightness in her chest ease, it seemed too long for her protective brother.

"We're not going to that again." His voice rumbled resolutely from his chest as he turned to look at her, "I was careless."

"Careless?" Rose couldn't feign the confusion and hurt she felt over his words, "What was wrong with dancing? We were having such fun!"

"You're exhausted." The words were accusatory, daring her to lie, "I know you're unwell. I should have refused."

"Well I'm glad you didn't!" Unable to hide her anger, she sat up so as to stare him in the eye, "I'm sorry you regret it. But I don't, not when those few moments made me feel more alive than I have all month. Not when I finally managed to get you to almost smile for me."

It was as if the mention of such happy things had caused it to stir in her chest, the coldness that continued to plague her. Creeping into her hands and feet, Rose stifled the gasp that came to her lips, refusing to worry the man who held her so tenderly in his lap.

"Logan?"

She asked the question with deceptive slowness, fighting off crippling fatigue and cold to gently stroke the side of his face.

"You know I love you, don't you brother?"

Dark eyes bore down on her, quick to understand something was wrong. She never could hide anything from him.

"I was just reminding you…"she shook her head before she grew too tired to hold it up, resting against his chest, taking comfort in the steady beating of his heart.

"Rose."

His hands were on his face, carding gently through her hair as he fought against panic, a fear that even he could not completely control.

"I'm fine," the words were slurring together as she curled closer, her face tilting upwards to see the lines of concern on his face, "It will be ok, you'll…"

Her lips brushed against his then, the briefest, almost imperceptible graze of plush lips against his own. It was impossible to say who had leaned forward, but it was the last Rose managed before she sagged suddenly, bereft of consciousness.

And though the entire kingdom celebrated the warmth of the summer sun, Logan watched as she began to fade in his arms. So small, frail, but infinitely precious for more than just her position as queen; Logan traced the pale contours of her face as he watched her breathing slow.

Swallowing against the sudden knot in his throat, Logan looked up in confusion as Jasper appeared.

"Oh my, what in the world has happened, Logan?"

The dark haired man didn't know how to reply to the question, but as he considered his sister's peaceful face another name floated through his mind. Someone who might have the answers they were looking for.

"Jasper, where can I find Theresa?"