AN: What's this? An unscheduled surprise update? YES! And with good reason:

~ . o O o . ~

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BERRY! From the both of us. :D

~ . o O o . ~

So, what do we have here? Another interlude, from Daniel's POV this time. So sorry, no Hiccstrid progress yet ;P

And before we get started, I want to freshen up a few names. In this interlude, we'll meet the father's of our chaos squad again, so here are their names once more to hopefully prevent confusion. We have:
King Osmond, father of Daniel and Astrid
Grand Duke Oswald, father of Dagur
Grand Duke Eret II, father of Eret III, which is the Eret we usually deal with. (This is not the old goat/scarecrow of a man Eret 'the Elder' who's the Grandfather of both Eret and Hiccup. That one doesn't show up here.)

Also: YES! The Dagret ship is floating! It might be barely more than a two-(wo)men-rowboat, but we love it. :D

**Shoutouts**

First to the person of honour today ;)

To Berry: Oh, the plans for the next meeting, ohohoho…. xD
As for the rest, we already discussed it. And the point I wanted to make is to make clear that sex isn't seen as something wrong, forbidden, or dirty in this world, not as it is in ours. It's fun and good, allowed and encouraged – with the right partner.
Anyway. I/we hope you enjoy this interlude, and also have a great day today! ;)

To Vivi-ntvg: Sorry, you'll have to wait a bit longer ;)

To Guest: Thanks for your review. It made me and some friends laugh quite a lot. I'm amazed at how you made it this far into the story without getting how this world or all their relationships work. I sincerely doubt this will get into your head, but just because: Astrid knew where the boys were about to go, knew what they'd be doing there, Hiccup included. And she wished them to have fun, Hiccup included. She knew that Hiccup would have sex with another woman and didn't mind. Because sex doesn't equal love and this is not some stupid jealousy-story, even if some people apparently can't understand how people can not be jealous…

To alejandrathemexican: Glad it's all clear now! ^^

To BrawlerGamer: I guess you're right. Cami isn't stupid, is she?

To harrypanther: Sooo happy to hear from you again! :D Thank you so much for you kind words! :D

To Httyd. Krokmou: That is one of the points I want to make… Kissing, or even having sex with an Ástir, has nothing to do with love. And that's an important point for me.

To Carl Solo: Hope this break from the break helps ;)

To Guest1: You're right, I'm not asking for a morality discussion here. ;)

. o O o .

Interlude 2: The Price To Pay

(Daniel's POV)

As Daniel hastily left the bathhouse, having donned his clean tunic and trousers in a hurry, still tightening down his belt as he went out the door, he couldn't help but feel triumphant. Finally!

Finally, he'd made progress.

Finally, he'd know for sure.

Finally, he'd be able to act.

Grim satisfaction filled his heart as he crumpled the inconspicuous note in his fist. He wasn't fooling himself, as he knew perfectly well that this small note was only the start of a long and probably ugly process. But that didn't change how pleased, even excited he was to finally get started. After months and years of escalating incidents, he finally had the chance to crack the shell of the conspiracy that was rotting the kingdom from the inside out.

With sure strides, he walked down the corridors and several staircases until he reached his goal: the castle's dungeon. The guards that stood at the door to the side corridor he was heading at greeted him with a silent nod, and opened the door without a single word only to firmly close it behind him again. Not a word of what was spoken in here would reach unintended ears. The corridor behind the door was a short one; only a few strides deep with one door on each side, leading to further rooms. The left one was a cell, the one to the right an additional guard room. Daniel paused, gritting his teeth as he glanced at the cell, but pulled himself together and entered the other room. He would get his chance to deal with the prisoner soon enough.

"Ah, I see the note reached you, Your Highness." Fyrir Alvin greeted him with a nod as he entered, his deep voice barely more than a low rumble. The broad man filled a considerable amount of the small guard room, but as it was otherwise empty except for the small and hunched form of Fyrir Gothi and Daniel himself, it wasn't much of an issue.

"Fyrir Alvin. Fyrir Gothi. Yes, I got your note; thank you for sending for me directly. So, he finally gave in?" Daniel asked, excited. He'd been waiting for this note to reach him for days now.

Frigga's old Fyrir nodded, mutely as ever, and stepped forward to hand Daniel a folded piece of paper. Both Fyrirs stood quietly as he quickly unfolded it and scanned its content. As expected, it was nothing but a quickly scribbled list. A list that made him grit his teeth in hatred, yet at the same time made his heart thump eagerly. It was a list of names.

After scanning it twice, Daniel nodded and safely stowed it into the front pocket of his jacket. "Thank you for your efforts," he said with a grim smile. "Hardly any name here comes as a surprise. Especially not..." he trailed off, gritting his teeth, but then gave a small nod. "I want to speak to him once more."

"We didn't expect anything else," Alvin nodded, and led the way over to the cell and its resident.

Gunter Erwinsson still wore what had to be the remnants of his formal court attire, but after several days now, it had lost a great deal of its former dignity. The formerly neat trousers, tunic, and west were stained with dust and sweat, the fabric dishevelled and partially torn. The former Count Ravenledge had been offered clean clothes as Daniel knew, but he had refused to wear anything that would diminish his status.

The man sat on a low pallet, an empty bowl at his side, and looked up as the door to his cell opened. "Ah, what an honour," he sneered in a low and raspy voice. "The Crown Prince himself again. This is it then? Is my time up?"

Daniel scrutinised the old man. Directly after his imprisonment, he'd used every opportunity to fight his way out, but it seemed like he'd given up by now. Or he'd accepted that he had no chance of escaping anyway with Fyrir Alvin blocking the way.

"Not yet," Daniel replied solemnly. "We're still waiting for our couriers to return with a more accurate assessment of County Ravenledge's current state. You still have a few days left."

Gunter Erwinsson gave a harsh laughter. "How very kind of you. A few days more to wait for my slow and degrading death..." He gave the two Fyrirs standing behind Daniel wary glances, before he got up on his feet, slowly, indicating that he was no threat. "I assume you got what you wanted, Your Highness. Each and every man I know of being guilty of supporting the title disputes, as you requested."

Daniel nodded, once. "And you swear that all these names are valid? You know these men are guilty?"

The former count snorted. "Indeed. I've only been to one of their meetings, but that was enough to get what they're up to. All they want is chaos and power."

Again, Daniel nodded. He knew the former count's story by now. How a certain influential duke had approached him with an offer of power if he agreed to support him, how the count had refused, and how, in retaliation, the duke had arranged for his county to be taken from him.

A part of Daniel saw the value in the former count's action. He'd been loyal to his position and House Berserker, hadn't been a bad vassal, all things considered. But that didn't change the fact that he was a bad man and had been a horrible leader to his people.

"And are these all the noblemen who conspire against the Crown?" Daniel asked calmly. He already knew the answer, but still had to ask.

"Hardly," Gunter snorted. "But those are all the names I can confirm without a doubt."

Glancing to the side, Daniel saw how Fyrir Gothi nodded. The former count was speaking the truth. "All right," Daniel said, turning to leave the cell, but paused when the other man spoke again.

"What about our agreement?" he inquired. "What about my son?"

Glancing back at him, Daniel let out a sigh. "Our agreement stands," he announced. "You told me what I wanted to know, so I will keep my end of the bargain. Your son Angus won't suffer any further consequences by your or Harold's actions. He will remain a knight in the Royal Army, and will suffer no inferior treatment for what his family did. You have my word."

He didn't feel comfortable with having the son of this man, Harold's brother, among his personal guard. But so far, Angus hadn't done anything wrong, was a good and loyal soldier, in fact. Punishing him just for his relations wouldn't be right. Although, Daniel would certainly keep an eye on him.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Gunter muttered. He insinuated a bow, before he slumped back down onto his pallet.

Daniel gave him a last look before he followed the Fyrirs and left the cell. The man looked completely broken.

Once back in the solitude of the guard room, Daniel turned toward the Fyrirs again. "You've worked on him for several days now. What is your evaluation?" he asked, glancing from one to the other.

Gothi and Alvin shared a look that spoke of decades of cooperating. "He's telling the truth," Alvin finally grumbled. "Most of the names he gave us didn't come as a surprise, and the few that did–" he shrugged, "–well, they aren't exactly known as close allies of the Crown either. And he has no reason to try and twist the truth in any way. His story makes sense. He was loyal to House Berserker, and when he refused to cooperate with the traitors they took away his city, and burned it to the ground when he came to take it back. A punishment and a warning. There was never any loyalty between him and those men; he just tried to get as much out of revealing them as possible."

Fyrir Gothi nodded in agreement, and Daniel did as well. "Why now, though?" he wondered idly. "I didn't offer him anything that I haven't offered him at the beginning already."

Again, Gothi and Alvin shared a brief glance. "Maybe he realised that you wouldn't offer him anything else anyway?" Alvin suggested. "Maybe he gave up?"

"Yes, probably." Sighing, Daniel grimaced. "Either way, we have what we wanted. Now, we just have to decide what to do with this list. Did you send a note to my father?"

Alvin nodded. "And to the Grand Dukes too, as requested."

"All right. Then I better not let them wait." With another nod, Daniel bid them farewell, and left the dungeon again.

As he made his way back to his rooms to change into a more formal attire before meeting his father and the Grand Dukes, he felt the same sense of excitement as before growing inside his chest. Finally, they would be able to do something! And there was one name on that list that Daniel was looking very forward to dealing with, one name that hadn't come as a surprise at all.

Duke Thuggory of Meathead. Of course he'd been on that list of traitors. Gunter Erwinsson hadn't been able to confirm Daniel's suspicion, but he was sure that Thuggory had cooperated with Harold to get to Astrid. Just like he was sure that Thuggory was somehow behind the first attack on her all those months ago, too. Daniel had no proof or evidence, not even a hint or rumour, but he simply knew it. The satisfied smirk that had flickered across Thuggory's face on that day… Even after all these months, Daniel still couldn't forget that look.

But now, finally, he could get back to him. Maybe not directly for what had happened to Astrid, or how he'd treated other girls, if rumours were true, but in the end that didn't matter. He would stop Thuggory and his malicious doings, would gladly do whatever was necessary, pay whatever price it took. Everything, if only it meant revenge for what he'd done to Astrid, and would turn the Kingdom back into a safer place to live in again.

A burst of laughter made Daniel look up, just in time to see three familiar figures turn around the corner at the end of the corridor he just passed. For a second, he considered calling after Eret, Dagur, and Hiccup – but decided against it. He didn't want to ruin their cheerful mood with politics; they'd get the chance to discuss it at a later occasion.

Their cheerfulness made him a little melancholic, though. If only it would be possible for them to spend more time here at the castle than just these brief few months each year. Their presence was so incredibly good for Astrid, Eret's especially. Ever since his arrival, she was like a completely different person.

Or well… no, that wasn't true. She wasn't like a different person. She was herself again. Not the fearful and jumpy shell of a person she'd been during the months after the spring festival anymore, but happy and laughing. So full of life again. If only they would see how good they were for each other…

And, well...Cold-blooded as the dynastic logic was, Astrid would almost certainly be married off to either Eret or Dagur the day she turned twenty anyway. She would be expected to start popping out heirs as rapidly as possible, if only to avoid another succession crisis in one of the grand-dukedoms. No matter how much they all liked to ignore it, those were the solid facts, their future – and the only solace was that she still had two years for her mental and emotional wounds to heal before she would have to accept getting intimate with a man again.

It was the same cold-blooded logic that demanded for Daniel to soon choose a wife, too, with an impeccable bloodline of course, and to sire heirs on her, regardless of his heart. No matter how much he despised that thought, it, too, was a solid fact, a future he was prepared for. And he comforted himself that it was yet another way to make his friends' lives easier, if nothing else. If anything were to happen to him, he didn't want the weight of the Kingdom to lie on Astrid's shoulders. To place a target on her – and her future husband. Nothing cemented an usurper's legitimacy like marrying the last remaining member of the old royal line, after all. And they surely wouldn't refrain from turning her into a widow first, either.

Idly, he wondered whether the way the Tribes handled their successions, electing their future ruler, rather than having the succession be merely a matter of bloodlines, was the more prudent way, with fewer intrigues and blood-shedding. Although… that obviously wasn't how it always worked, either.

Sighing, Daniel pulled his thoughts away from that whole complicated mess. There was nothing he could do to influence the Tribes and their situation, he had to accept that – no matter how much he'd like to. Forcefully, he focused back on things where he could make a difference – the future of his beloved sister. All Daniel wanted was to ensure that she would be happy. But Astrid refused to see Eret as anything but her brother, and the same went for Dagur and Snot. If only she would overcome those sisterly feelings, and see them as something else. Maybe not as a true lover, as marrying for love was a luxury they couldn't afford, but at least as a partner. Someone to spend her life with. Someone who would make sure she was happy, so that Daniel could stop worrying over her.

Letting out a deep breath, he threw one last glance to where his friends had vanished moments ago, then he continued on his way. There had been a time, a couple of weeks ago, when he'd mildly entertained another hope. He knew his sister well, after all. Lively as she was, she'd still always struggled with opening up to strangers, even before that first assault. So when she'd opened up to Hiccup without any problems, he'd hoped… Surely, she wouldn't see him as a brother, too. And while he didn't know Hiccup as well as he knew Eret or the others, Daniel was still convinced that Hiccup was a good man. There had been the hope, that, if he would agree to the union, he certainly would take good care of Astrid.

But Harold's assault had destroyed that hope. Sure, she wasn't as jumpy and scared as she'd been after the spring festival. But while her behaviour toward Eret and Dagur, her brothers, hadn't really changed, the differences in the way she interacted with Hiccup, a relative stranger, were striking. Gone was her playful lightness around him, the joking and teasing. It even seemed like she grew especially tense around Hiccup now, probably because of his physical resemblance to Harold.

Damned be Harold to Hel for what he'd done to her! And damned be Thuggory for pulling the strings from the background; and all just because she'd repeatedly turned him down. He prayed that Nidhogg would gnaw on their entrails.

Daniel let out an angry growl, startling a passing maidservant, and took a deep breath to calm himself again. Exhaling, he relaxed his gritted teeth and clenched hands, and forced himself to relax, to return to his controlled self. Getting angry wouldn't do him any good, he'd learned that lesson already. Especially back then when he'd arranged for the quick execution of Astrid's attacker. If only he'd been more patient… if only he'd waited to first question the man. Maybe he could have already put an end to Thuggory's doing then.

Smiling grimly, Daniel felt for the folded note in his pocket. This time would be different, though. This time, he wouldn't act too hasty. This time, he would use calm logic and politics to fight. That was something he was good at, after all; thinking and tactics. This time, he would free Astrid and the entire Kingdom of Thuggory. And with him of many others who were a threat to their people's safety in their own ways.

For that goal, Daniel was willing to pay any price.

. o O o .

"Can't say any of these names come as a surprise," Oswald grumbled as he leaned over the King's shoulder to glance at the piece of paper.

Daniel stood quietly and watched the three men on the other side of the impressive desk. The more agreeable of the two older Erets, his friend Eret's father, nodded mutely.

"The question is just what we're going to do about them now that we have confirmation," Osmond sighed, placing the piece of paper onto the tabletop in front of him.

Daniel gave the list a thoughtful look. "Putting them on trial, as we did with Count Ravenledge, won't work, right?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. As much as he prefered such a relatively clean solution – things wouldn't always be that easy.

"Sadly not," Eret II confirmed, rubbing his tattooed chin. As so often, it amused Daniel how similar he and his son were, in looks and mannerisms, but today, that wasn't enough to make him smile. "There's nothing we can accuse them of, nothing solid. Sure, they are the ones to blame, but that doesn't mean that they ever did more than pulling strings. And even proving that would be difficult. We have, after all, only the word of a convicted criminal who had heard them giving big speeches." He shook his head. "No, a trial wouldn't lead us anywhere; if we tried that, we'd almost assuredly fail. And if we give them any excuse to raise their banners in rebellion in retaliation, to start a civil war…" He trailed off, shaking his head. But he didn't need to explain anyway.

The names on the list – well-placed and well-off counts, and even several centrally-placed dukes – had demesnes that wound their way through the heart of the kingdom. Their fiefdoms were wealthy and well-populated – often with lands stolen from other lords – and their own personal forces, while not nearly a match for the Royal Army, could still inflict a wound on the kingdom that they might never recover from.

Daniel thought of the landscape to the west, of burned-out orchards and skeletal towns. Of overgrown fallow fields and mass graves of the fallen.

The thought of that sort of devastation here in the kingdom's heart... it gave him chills. And apparently, he wasn't the only one.

For a minute or three, they all fell silent, thinking, contemplating how they could go about this problem. Daniel followed his father with his eyes as he got up and produced four elegant glasses from a cupboard standing to the side and filled them from a bottle. He eyed the rich amber liquid after his father handed him a glass, then followed the other men's example and tossed it back into his throat in a single swallow. The Tribal whiskey burned on its way down, and he put the glass back on the desk with a thunk.

There was a slight scoff from the other side of the desk, and Daniel turned his head to look at Oswald's mildly amused expression. "I remember well how, five years ago, you tried a single sip of that, spat it out, and said that you didn't understand why we drank it. You've surely grown up since then."

Daniel scoffed in reply. "That was before I saw the battlefield firsthand... and, even worse, politics."

Both Oswald and Eret II chuckled weakly, but his father just nodded and refilled the small glasses before handing one back to Daniel. "Aye, those can do things to a man. Those, and..." the King trailed off, sighing. Apparently lost in thoughts, he gazed at his own glass, at the sloshing golden liquid, then lifted it. "To absent friends."

"To absent friends," the Grand Dukes murmured in reply, raising their glasses.

Daniel chimed in, lifting his own glass, and wondered which lost friends they were seeing. The battles to the west had given him a number of faces that he would dearly love to see again.

A melancholy silence filled the room, and he contemplated suggesting to relocate to the other part of the office, the lower table with the comfortable sofa and chairs around it – but decided against it. For once, this was his father's office; it would be his privilege to suggest that. And in a way, Daniel even understood why he hadn't done it yet. The conversation they were about to have wasn't going to be a comfortable chat among friends after all, but a sober and surely not comfortable discussion about politics and traitors.

"How about...," Oswald eventually began, though only to trail off again, resolute eyes drilling into the whiskey in his glass, before he sighed. "How about we use assassins?" He looked around, rolling his eyes at the somewhat scandalised looks he earned himself for that comment. "Oh, don't act so surprised; you all have thought about it, and you know it! We all have our contacts, after all."

"But sentencing them all to death, just like that?" Eret II asked sceptically.

"As traitors to the Crown, they deserve nothing else," Oswald replied, shrugging. "We could even make the sentencing official before – there's reason enough, I'd say. Not to mention the countless murders and other crimes that go on their account. We would just need to–"

"That wouldn't work," King Osmond interrupted him quietly. As Daniel glanced at his father, he looked deep in thoughts, concentrated, but also weirdly tired. "You're right, I have thought about that. If we only had to deal with one man, or maybe up to three, that would be an option. But with–" he glanced down at the list between them, "–well over two dozen men of high ranks? No, I don't think so. Hiring enough men to deal with them all at the same time is too risky. It would take just one failure to put them on guard, one capture or turncoat, and it would blow back in our faces." He raised one hand to ward off an interruption by Oswald. "I know what you want to suggest. But even if we use someone who's loyal and supposedly as invincible as your specialist, then it still wouldn't work. After the third accidental death of a High Lord at the latest, the others would retreat into hiding. And while that might serve to calm these disputes for a year or two, it surely wouldn't help on the long run. No, what we want is… is to draw them out! So that we can deal a lethal blow to this conspiracy's roster and set them back. Many of them don't have heirs or clear lines of succession, and that would revert them to the Crown, or allow us to judge who succeeds them. If we removed enough of them at once, we could completely hamstring this faction's aggregate strength of arms and fortune."

Grumbling, Oswald nodded, clearly not happy but seeing the logic in the King's words nonetheless.

"Drawing them out… Maybe with something like a tournament?" Daniel suggested thoughtfully. "The prestige of a big tournament surely would be enough to lure them here, and accidents do happen all the time at such events. We'd just need to place the right men as participants."

"Maybe," his father agreed hesitantly. "But even then it would draw attention when so many accidents happen. Again, if it becomes obvious which participants accidentally get killed, the others would retreat quickly. The general idea might work, but…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"How about a Hunt then?" Eret threw in. "Out in the forests, nobody would ever know how certain accidents happened. And we could invite enough other noblemen so that the number of accidents wouldn't look overly suspicious either."

"But if it's such a common Hunt, many of these wouldn't even participate," Oswald pointed out, waving at the list. "They would consider it beneath them."

"Maybe something like the old Dragon Hunts then?" Eret II went on, unperturbed. "Something that's special enough to lure them out. They might even end up killing each other if the prize is grand enough – they'd all be in this for themselves, and, well, as the saying goes... no honour among thieves."

"I know you're fond of old traditions like the Dragon Hunts, old friend," Osmond remarked with a small smile. "But you know as well as I do that those were nothing but excuses. I don't think there's been a dragon killed in living memory during one of those arranged hunts. Maybe Fyrir Gothi remembers one. But there simply aren't enough dragons around here anymore. And you do remember the one Dragon Hunt we participated in some – oh, was it almost thirty years ago already? When we spent the entire three days of the Hunt in that tavern next to Freya's Temple?"

Eret and Oswald shared a glance and Eret snickered like a young man for a moment. "Aye, just like practically… everybody else did too," he added, then glanced at Oswald and clapped him on the shoulder. "And you can't say it didn't work out for Oswald here!"

Osmund rolled his eyes as Oswald flushed slightly. "Aye, and now her daughter works here as one of the best bakers in the city." Daniel blinked at his father's words. Oh. Was that where Uncle Oswald had met... he shook his head, trying to stay focused, despite the whiskey and the old gossip. "But that's the problem. No dragons, no prize or prestige worth the effort, and unless you think that they'll die of exhaustion in Freya's Temple, there'd be no risk to them."

"Ah, but that's not a fair comparison. Wasn't that at your father's sixtieth birthday celebration? Those were stressful days and that Dragon Hunt really was only planned as a break for everyone from the weeks of feasting and socialising. I mean, that was…"

The other men drifted off into memories about the old days and teasing Oswald, but Daniel wasn't paying close attention to that. There was something in what Uncle Eret had said, something that sparked the hint of an idea, something–

"How about this," he said thoughtfully, interrupting the other men's joking. "I think we all agree that drawing them out in order to thin their ranks is what we need to do. A tournament, though, would be too random and obvious, and a Hunt possibly too common. But how about we do both? We could host a grand event, like what was done for grandfather's birthday, something stretching over half a month or more. Something where accidents can happen every now and then, where people might tragically disappear in the forests, and where the glory at stake is high enough that some of these greedy lords turn on each other. Divide and conquer is a tactic I'm familiar with; we do that in the West all the time."

Daniel felt his heart beat faster as his idea more and more took shape in his mind. "When we know that there are several groups of bandits, raiders, and enemy soldiers in the area – especially when they're from different Malarian princedoms – then we place some kind of bait to lure them out and let them fight each other over it, so we only have to deal with whoever's left. We could do that here, too. Host such an event, lure them out, let them fight each other, and deal with who's left."

There was a moment or three of silence, before Eret II nodded. "I think that might work. We just need the right bait."

"Exactly," Daniel agreed eagerly. "Too bad that we already offered County Ravenledge to Lord Gregson, that might have been just what we'd need as a bait."

"Don't overestimate the value of that county, son," Osmond said grudgingly. "From the little we've gotten so far, it's in a pretty sorry state. But even if it were in a better one, men like Thuggory wouldn't compete for such a county themselves. They'd send their vassals instead, and then control the land by controlling them." He shook his head, grimacing. "No, we'd need something else. Something so big, so valuable that they'd want it for themselves."

For a few minutes, they threw around several ideas like a chest of golden coins from the royal treasures, trade contracts, or other admissions. But nothing appeared to be suitable, nothing that the greedy lords would want for themselves, instead of being content to control it through pawns. Eventually, they ended up sitting and standing mutely, all thinking, but without being able to come up with further ideas.

Until Eret II spoke up.

"I… might have one last suggestion for what we could use as bait," he said quietly. He'd had his eyes glued to the ground, but now raised his head to look at them all in turn. "But you're not going to like it."

. o O o .

Hours later, Daniel stood in front of the window at the end of the corridor outside of his room and gazed out into the distance. When he'd been younger, he'd used to do that often. From here, the view over Lake Vola with the broad shores of white sand and the surrounding hills and the forest was breathtaking.

But tonight, he barely registered anything of that. Not because it was dark night outside, no; there was enough light from the moon and the stars to make out the shapes and to reflect on the waves. The reason why he didn't pay any mind to the beauty surrounding him were his distraught and troubled thoughts.

The price was too high!

He'd thought he was ready to pay whatever price he had to, but he'd been wrong. The option uncle Eret had suggested was too high a price, and he hadn't been ready for that.

And yet, it was the only option.

They'd spent hours discussing it afterwards. Even though they'd build in a loophole that made it bearable, Daniel knew that nobody, not he himself, not the Grand Dukes, and certainly not the King was happy with their decision. And yet, they'd committed to it anyway.

Because it was the only way forward that they could see.

With his hands clenched into tight fists and his eyes pressed shut, he let his head fall against the cold glass. I'm sorry! he thought desperately. I'm so, so, sorry…

But, of course, his apologies wouldn't reach the person they were meant for. And never could, not until it was too late.

He didn't really notice the passing of time as he stood there and gazed out into the darkness. But he figured it must have been a while when suddenly a familiar hand landed on his shoulder.

"Hey, you're still up?" Eret asked. "That must have been quite some news if they kept you up for so long. Were you able to deal with whatever it was?" He had a lazy grin on his face, similar to Dagur's behind him, but when they noticed Daniel's despondent expression, they sobered up in an instant.

"What happened?" Dagur asked, stepping closer as well, but Daniel just shook his head.

"It's… nothing of importance right now," he tried to placate them. "Yes, everything's dealt with… or at least plans are made." He swallowed, then shook his head. "But let's not talk about that now. How was your night?"

Eret gave him a scrutinising look. "It was good. Kaden sends her thanks and gratitude." He hesitated for a moment, but then went on, "You know you can tell us what bothers you, right? And if it's some political secret we're not yet allowed to know, you at least can vent, if that helps. We always have an open ear for you."

That brought a small smile to Daniel's face. "Yes, I know." He paused, honestly considering for a moment, but then shook his head. "And it's actually not 'you're not allowed to know'. You'll learn about it soon enough, I guess. But…But I think it would be better if you didn't know just yet."

"What, you doubt our loyalty?" Eret asked, theatrically pressing a hand to his heart as if he was hurt. But Daniel wasn't in the mood for joking.

"Believe me, my friend, your loyalty is the last I'd ever doubt." he placed one hand on Eret's shoulder and gave him a strained smile. "In fact, I'm very much counting on your loyalty for all this to end well. But it is also because of this loyalty that I can't tell you just now."

There was confusion on Eret's and Dagur's faces, and it pained Daniel to not be able to clear it. But he also knew that, sometimes, not knowing something could be a blessing. And he didn't want to inflict that kind of pain on his friends. They shouldn't have to be forced to choose to whom they were more loyal.

. o O o .

*jumps back into hiding and waits for the explosion*