After dinner, Hans, Hagen and Freyja went to the King's chambers, but she refused to open the door until Hans ran back to his room and put on his gloves. When he returned, Hagen didn't speak, but his face clearly said, "I told you so." The three were followed in by a stout servant woman bearing a tray of food and water for the failing King.

"I've already fetched the doctor, My Lady."

"Very good, Hildegarde. Thank you," Queen Freyja said, taking the tray from her and sitting beside the bed. He coughed, and she brought the cup of water to his lips. "Erik, my love, how are you feeling?"

He took a few gulps and replied, "Not well."

Freyja touched his face, and Hans saw a rare moment of tenderness from his normally strict mother. "Have you been resting?" The King could only huff in defeat. Hans saw the pain in her eyes as she lifted a piece of bread to his lips, but he refused to open his mouth. "You must eat something, dearest."

It was hard for Hans to watch his mother. She seemed to be in her own world with Erik as she tried to nurse him back to health, like he had been at Elsa's side mere days ago. He heard the panic creeping into her voice, though her sharp face betrayed nothing. Her grey eyes were glassy, but she had never cried in front of any of her sons.

The King was practically buried already. His face was overgrown with hair, and his body was surrounded by soft pillows, silky sheets and heavy quilts. The only things exposed were his nose and his jade green eyes, dulled with age and illness.

Hans and Hagen stood back and watched the pair in an awkward silence, allowing their parents a moment.

Then, the doctor came in, a handsome blond with intelligent blue eyes, much like Freyja's used to be, like Elsa's. He greeted them with a polite bow, then moved to the other side of the King. He checked his vitals and listened to his gut-wrenching cough. When he was done with his evaluation, he faced the Queen with a grave expression.

"Unfortunately, his condition is not improving. I can't say for sure how long he has, but I suggest you say your goodbyes. Also, you might have more luck with fruit," he added, gesturing towards the forgotten bread in Freyja's hand. "He's dehydrated."

"Thank you, doctor!" Freyja said, hastily swapping the bread for the cup of fruit on the tray. Hildegarde opened the door to show the doctor out, but Freyja stopped her. "Once you've escorted the doctor, would you mind rounding up the rest of the boys?"

"Certainly, My Lady." They left with a final sound from the heavy door.

Freyja got Erik to eat some blueberries while Hans and Hagen stood off to the side, trying to ignore the sudden tension in the room. Once the King seemed to relax, Hans took a chance at conversation.

"You look better, Dad. I think you were asleep when I stopped in earlier."

"Oh, no," he grunted. "I heard every word." He gave his wife a sidelong glance, who grew rigid under his scrutiny.

Knowing his father didn't approve of her outburst made Hans want to hug him, but he knew Freyja wouldn't let him get that close. Instead, he took a couple steps forward. "I made things right with Queen Elsa. We have our trade partner back."

"Excellent."

Hans beamed, but it faltered when Freyja interrupted. "Your son asks your forgiveness...and his title back."

"You did say he was only to spend a year in the stables," Hagen added hopefully.

King Erik looked at each of them, his green eyes finally settling on Hans. "Have you learned anything, boy?"

It was at that moment that Hildegarde returned with the rest of Hans' brothers. They filed in, some of them shooting Hans dirty or questioning looks. Hans grew nervous with an audience, and swallowing took effort. He thought about both trips to Arendelle and the year between them spent in the stables. "I have learned not to allow my emotions to consume me, and that help isn't always a bad thing. It's not all about me."

A few of his brothers behind him snorted derisively, but the King smiled with pride. "Very good, my son. You have done well."

Beside him, Freyja's eyes narrowed. Hans could sense his brothers shifting behind him. Hagen seemed to be the only one excited, asking, "So, all is forgiven?"

King Erik nods. "I restore your honor."

"Thank you, Father!" Hans exclaimed, dropping to his knees beside the King. He pressed his face into the side of the bed, yet again resisting the urge to touch him. Even with his gloves on, Hans didn't trust himself as he was overcome with relief.

The King fell into a coughing fit, after which, he said, "Enough of all this official business. I want to spend time with my family."

They all spent the evening hours with their father, getting along with each other if only for his final moments. Even stern Freyja relaxed a little, enjoying their temporary unity.

When it was time for bed, the brothers said their goodbyes one by one. Each kept it short, holding back the tears until they were alone. The King gave them each a parting message.

"Hagen, I know you will be a good King in my absence."

"Thank you, Father," he said, kneeling and kissing the royal ruby ring that would soon be his. "I won't let you down." He stood and went to an out of the way corner of the room. Surely there were more royal proceedings they would wait to discuss in private.

Raoul stepped forward next. "Put that brain of yours to good use, my son. And keep your other brothers in line."

"Affirmative." He knelt and kissed his ring.

"You may leave," King Erik told him, and he did.

Next, Bjorn lumbered over. Erik grabbed his hand tight. "I'm so proud of you, my boy. I only wish I were younger so that I might test your strength myself.

Bjorn smiled, a rare thing indeed. Always gruff, he was exactly like Erik. Both of them were incredibly strong and fierce fighters in their own time. Many wondered which was the strongest between them, for the legends of King Erik's conquests were unrivaled. Had they both been in prime shape, a spar between them would be a fight for the ages.

"I would bring the world to its knees for you, Father." Bjorn crossed his free arm over his heart, making his already impressive bicep bulge. He kissed his father's ring and exited.

Garth approached him and knelt down, whispering something Hans couldn't make out. Erik smoothed Garth's long hair, the one thing drastically different that set him apart from the other brothers. "I'm afraid I must, but you have your family. Do not be sad." Garth kissed his ring and rushed out, hiding his face behind his long, auburn hair.

Brandt approached, looking unusually serious. He knelt and awaited his words of wisdom. "A lot of things are pretty," the King began randomly. "Flowers, art, girls. I want you to find something beautiful."

"Spoken like a crazy old man," he joked, though his laugh wasn't really in it.

Erik laughed, coughed, then explained. "You are wasting your time. Find something that moves you. More than looks, more than lust, but a stirring in your soul." He looked at Freyja, who smiled like a young girl.

"Like that'll ever happen," Nikolai muttered to Henrik.

Brandt rolled his eyes. "Okay, Pops, I'll try." He kissed the ring and left.

Next was Henrik. "Your mother will have her hands full with you boys when I'm gone. It'll be up to you to help her. Raoul has other responsibilities, as well, don't forget."

"Of course, Father," he said, smiling at Freyja. He, too, kissed the ruby ring and exited.

Nikolai approached the bed, glaring at Hans as he passed him. "I see how driven you are, my son, and I am proud. However, do not lose sight of what is important. Family is everything."

"Yes, Father," he replied, doing exactly as his brothers before him.

Leif went and hugged his father, who ruffled his curls. "Don't you ever change," the King ordered. "Stay happy."

"Yes, sir," he said, playfully saluting him. "Love you, Dad." He kissed the ring and returned to his room.

Jakob also glared at Hans on his way to Erik's bed. He looked at Freyja before he addressed the King. "Father, without you, who will protect us?"

Though he didn't turn around to stare, Hans just knew Jakob meant him. Even at twenty-six years old, Jakob sounded like he was seven again. Hans ground his teeth and balled his fists.

"You have three fine older brothers to protect you. Hagen will take my place, Raoul is the voice of reason, and Bjorn is the brawn. With family like that, you're perfectly safe from any threat."

"If you say so..." Jakob said, lowering his lips to the ruby ring.

"I do say so, and I haven't stopped being King yet!" he said, laughing and coughing again. Jakob gave him a half smile and left.

Now, Hans was the only one left to say goodbye. He looked around, as if expecting Vernon, Evan and Ivan to appear for their own farewells. He wanted to postpone his father's death, but it was out of his control. It was either say goodbye now, or live with the guilt. He took a hesitant step forward.

"My boy," the King began. "I knew you were never bad. Perhaps just a tad misguided."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. I simply have one last request."

"Anything."

"Find happiness."

Hans was taken aback. Surely he had misheard him. Perhaps Brandt was right – Erik was crazy for giving him the same speech. Maybe he had rushed things with Anna, but he didn't play games with her head and her heart like Brandt did with his girls. Well...Hans hadn't done it intentionally. That was the trolls' fault.

"Don't worry, you're nothing like Brandt," he assured him, seeming to read his mind. "I sense that something has been troubling you for quite some time, and you've made terrific progress. However, I think it is time to leave the past behind."

Hans wanted his brothers to come back in and hear that. He hoped they were pressing their ears to the door like they all used to as kids.

"Find peace within yourself," he went on. "It doesn't matter is it's a hobby, simply a state of mind, or something else. I found my peace in your mother," he said, turning to Freyja, his dull green eyes sparkling one last time. "She is my rock. I know she will keep you all safe. Find what grounds you, and everything will fall into place."

"I will."

King Erik coughed again, and Hans noticed a drop of blood that landed on his bottom lip, but he wiped it away quickly. "I love you. Goodnight."

"I love you, too," Hans said, cautiously reaching for the King's hand. Freyja shifted uncomfortably but did not intercept. He gripped his father's hand with his gloved one and squeezed. Then, he leaned down and kissed the royal ring. "Goodnight."

Hans walked to the door, but before he could leave, he was stopped by Freyja's bony hand on his shoulder. He could feel her hot breath on the back of his neck, and she whispered so that only he heard. "He may have forgiven you for what you've done, but I will not." He tried to turn to her, but she closed the door in his face.

A/N: Eeep! More family drama. Sorry this chapter is a little late. Please enjoy!