TW: Self-Harm (in its implied sense, not the act)

The wails of Queen Adelaide haunted the castle hallways when Prince Rudolf ambled his way to the king and queen's quarters, hallways that were often lively during the day but so hollow at night. In all his almost-forty years of calling the castle his home, he had never felt so foreign and misplaced being swallowed by the brick and marble that made up the dwelling of the royal family, even including the times he would return after long ambassadorial voyages. Never had he felt so… lost.

It was no wonder why his father looked so shaken up after Hans returned home from Arendelle, why there were so many guards needed to be in the dungeons with the youngest prince, why no one would explain exactly was going on and causing everyone to speculate at what horrible thing Hans had done on his first and only voyage away from the Southern Isles. It was worse than he could have ever imagined, everyone's worst fears realized.

Hans nearly assassinated Queen Elsa and Princess Anna of Arendelle. He murdered Viktor, the unsolved case from years ago. On top of it all, he had magic.

The shocking news could not have fared well on the aging king and queen, regardless of how well everyone hid their reactions during supper. His mother's keening was proof of that.

"They did nothing to deserve this!" shrieked his mother, the harrowing sound echoing through the hallway. "If you were going to curse anyone, curse me, not my children! You already took Søren, why take Hans, too?!"

Rudolf felt a pang hearing her words. It was like losing Søren all over again, but worse. Now there were two painful weights that they needed to bear. King Sigurd was the head of the royal family; Queen Adelaide was the heart.

A heart that was breaking.

King Sigurd's low voice rumbled soothingly, his words unintelligible through the walls. Queen Adelaide screamed, accented by the crash of breaking glass. Rudolf rushed into the room, finding his mother on her knees before a broken mirror and his father knelt beside her, holding her close.

"Don't do this to yourself, my dear," his father murmured. "We need to be strong. Your health is already so frail."

"Why did this happen?" his mother sobbed. "What did I do that God would see my children suffer?"

"Don't blame yourself, mother," Rudolf said. "Please listen to father."

The king and queen both started at the sound of his voice. Queen Adelaide turned to face Rudolf, eyes reddened and cheeks flushed and shined with a layer of tears. "Rudy," she said, her voice ragged. "What did I do wrong? Why is his happening?"

"I don't know," Rudolf said.

"Isn't that why you went on so many voyages? Spent all that time studying? To get answers?"

"I found many, mother," Rudolf said. "But not the answer to that question. I'm sorry."

She faced King Sigurd, latching onto his arms that held her. "I can't do this, dear. I can't do this again."

The king pulled her closer, silent as he stared off into the distance.

"Do you need help to get back into bed, mother?" Rudolf asked.

His mother nodded, and Rudolf helped his father ease her onto the mattress. His father drew a thin quilt over her, the warmth of the summer night warranting fewer layers. He undid the pin in her hair, releasing the locks from its bun, auburn and white-streaked waves pooling onto her pillow. She turned to her side, curling into herself, exhaling deeply.

"Thank you, dear," she said.

"Will you be okay?" the king asked.

"For now." She paused for a few moments before locking blue eyes with Rudolf. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I know my health has worried you for a while and seeing…" She sighed. "I'll be fine, Rudy."

"Would you like for me to check on both of you in the morning?" Rudolf asked.

"I would like that, my son."

Rudolf took one of her hands into his and kissed her forehead before nodding to his father. The faraway look in his father's eyes jabbed a phantom dagger into his stomach. It was déjà vu. All that work to prevent what happened to them with Søren, nearly twenty years of study and legal reform…

A waste.

"May I speak with you for a moment, father?" Rudolf asked.

His father looked to his mother, who nodded, before ushering him slowly out of the bedchamber and into the hallway. They were met by Gabriel, August, and Nikolaj hovering near the door. The third-, fourth-, and ninth-born princes backed away respectfully.

"We came when we heard glass breaking," Nikolaj said, the youngest of the three.

"It was a mirror," Rudolf said. "You should fetch someone to clean it, Nik."

"Aye," Nikolaj said, touching his fingers to his temple in a quick salute before rushing away to find a servant.

"Are you and mother well, father?" Gabriel asked.

"We're here if you need us," August said.

King Sigurd cracked a small, sad smile. "How did I end up with such wonderful sons? We are well, for now. Your mother was a little more… fervent in our nightly prayers tonight." He caught a quick glance in to the room before he shut the door. "What was it you wanted to talk about, Rudy?"

Rudolf inclined his head and sighed. "Was it you who wanted him to have a trial, or was it Hans?"

The king frowned, the wrinkles between brows deepening as he brought them together. "Want? No, I don't think either of us wanted it. Hans requested it, though I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought of it as well." He closed his eyes and sighed.

"He'll be executed!" August said.

"I think he knows that," Rudolf said. "They both do."

"It was not a decision made lightly," their father said. He closed his eyes. "As his father, I would do anything to spare him the pain he's about to face, but would it be right? Your grandfather was right to denounce me. I have no business being both a father and a king."

"Grandfather was a cruel man," Rudolf growled. "I know I was hardly five when I knew him, but even then I knew that the things he put you and mother through were horrible. He did not know what he was talking about."

"He's right, father," Gabriel said. "I barely remember Grandfather, but the few memories of him I do have, he was horrible."

The king cracked a small smile. "Rudy, knowing you, there is more to having me leave your mother than to discuss someone long gone. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Rudolf swallowed the thick lump in this throat. Long gone? Hardly. It felt like old ghosts continued to haunt their family relentlessly. Perhaps Hans was bound to be one of them. But his father was right. There would be time to talk about them at another time, heaven forbid tragedy to fall on their laps.

Rudolf exhaled and dropped his voice lower to keep his mother from hearing. "I would like to visit Hans in the dungeon, father."

There was a hint of sorrow that looked at him in his father's eyes. "May I ask why?"

"I want to hear it from him. I know it'll bother me to no end if I don't."

"Ever my knowledge-seeking son," his father said. The king nodded and pulled one of his signet rings from his finger and handed it to Rudolf. "Show this to the guards. They'll let you visit him. Benjamin might still be there."

"Benjamin is in the dungeons?"

"Yes."

Rudolf nodded. He would be surprised if Benjamin hadn't stopped by upon knowing Hans was locked down there. "He didn't need the ring?"

"I'm sure you know how Benjamin is with Hans. I knew he wouldn't try anything harmful, and I told the guards that, should Prince Benjamin attempt to see him, he could. Everyone else, however…"

Rudolf's gut twisted. None of his other brothers would do anything malicious to Hans, would they? Rudolf wouldn't ever do such a thing…

…right?

His father must've been able to read his thoughts somehow, or likely noticed Rudolf's discomfort, since he added, "Everything is unpredictable at the moment, Rudy. There's very few people I trust right now, including myself. But Ben is the only one I know that, no matter how stressed out he gets regarding Hans, he's kept a level head. I advise you to follow his lead." He rested a hand on Rudolf's shoulder, a shine in his eyes from fear or unshed tears, it was difficult to tell. "Please. Whatever Hans may say or do or reveal to you or you end up deducting with that brilliant mind of yours, please follow Benjamin's lead."

Rudolf eyed the signet ring in his hands before clasping it tightly in his palm. "Yes, father."

Gabriel and August looked to Rudolf, then to their father, both younger brothers watching the two eldest men of the family for guidance. Rudolf could only guess at what they were thinking. He knew Gabriel would pester him about it in the morning.

"I'll… go wish mother goodnight," August said after a time. Gabriel expressed the same intent. The two of them disappeared with their father into the king and queen's bedchamber, leaving Rudolf alone in the hallway. The moonlight seeping through the window behind him cast everything in a faint glow, making the place seem more empty than it already was. There was only the nearly imperceptible sound of Nikolaj guiding a servant to his parents' room.

Rudolf made his way to the dungeon, dread feeling like an icy hand over his chest at his father's veiled warning.

Listen to Ben. Follow Ben's lead.

He could do that. He used to be a little brother, once upon a time, back when life was so much simpler and he didn't have to lead all the time, when all he did was try to learn and read in other languages for ambassadorial trips.

When he came upon the entrance to the dungeon, a quartet of guards, two on each side, stopped him. Rudolf showed them the king's signet ring.

"I would like to see Prince Hans," he said. They let him through.

Immediately, Benjamin's voice carried over to him, faint but distinct. Gentle. "You know he's not like that, Hans."

Hans said something in response, but it was harder to hear. Maybe it was more a noise than anything verbal.

Rudolf paused his steps as he turned a corner and found Benjamin sat cross-legged in front of a cell. His twelfth-born brother snapped his attention to him, eyes wide. Hans was out of his line of sight inside the cell.

"Who is it?" came Hans's voice.

"It's Rudy," Benjamin said.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding," Rudolf said. "I can wait if you want to finish a conversation without me present."

"No, by all means, stay," Hans said. "Ben and I were just discussing whether you'd care to show your face after learning the truth. Seems Benjamin's right once again."

Benjamin still looked at Rudolf, but his mouth parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to do it. He cleared his throat and held a hand out to stop him. Rudolf hesitated, allowing his brother to plan his thoughts.

"Whatever you do, Rudy," Benjamin said as he got up off the floor. "Don't… freak out, okay?"

Listen to Ben, his father said.

Rudolf nodded and stood beside him in front of the iron bars of Hans' cell.

His heart skipped a beat, the next wracked a chilling wave through his body. There were so many marks on his brother. Dark and light scars, injuries still healing, pink and red and dried blood littered the length of both of Hans' arms. Rudolf felt like the air was pulled from his lungs.

Benjamin clutched his shoulder and shook it, breaking the trance that Rudolf found himself in.

Hans stood in the middle of his cell wearing a short-sleeved shirt that bared his arms, a garment choice that likely was not made by his youngest brother, covered in marks that made his stomach froth with something that was definitely not calm or happiness.

Don't freak out. That's what Ben said. Don't freak out.

Why? How? What was this? Was this from someone trying to harm Hans? No. No, no, no, he knew what those marks were. Rudolf wanted to scream. Scream at Hans. Scream at Benjamin. Scream at the horror of it all. Nothing in his life could've prepared him for this. Nothing.

"Hans!" Rudolf said, not liking how tight his voice sounded. He swallowed once, trying to keep his calm like Benjamin. "What… what is this?"

Hans looked down at his arms and then at Rudolf. "I'm sure you know what this is."

Oh, he knew. Of course he knew. But to see, to personally know, was an entirely different matter. All the medical, philosophical, and scientific books and documentation about it did nothing to stop his heartbeats from hammering in his skull, did nothing to prepare him for how he would react should he encounter something like… this.

"Ben, did you know about this?" Rudolf asked.

"I had… suspicions," Benjamin said.

"You had suspicions, and you told no one?"

"I did!" Benjamin's grip on Rudolf's shoulder tightened, pressing into bone. He released him and glared at him. "But those I told ended up ignoring him for two years."

"You mean the triplets? Ben, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I know how you are. You'd try a million other solutions before even considering the option to just wait and listen. You'd shoot first and ask later without realizing that there might not have been a reason to shoot in the first place. No offense, Rudolf, but sometimes I wonder with that big head of yours if there's any room for tact."

Rudolf opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. Listen to Benjamin, especially when Benjamin had a good point.

"Don't be mad at Ben, Rudy," Hans said. "I hid it with my magic. He didn't know."

Hans stepped forward and raised his arms. A flash of light, and every hint of injury that marred him was gone. If Rudolf hadn't seen the marks so vividly earlier, he would've doubted that they were there.

Magic.

Hans sighed. Another flash, and the marks were back. Their return made Rudolf feel queasy.

"Unfortunately, it takes too much concentration to keep it up," Hans said. "As you can tell, father figured that out and lent me one of his shirts."

Of course. Now that he thought about it, Rudolf hadn't seen Hans with anything that didn't cover everything down to his hands, even in the summer.

"Why, Hans?" Rudolf said. That was the question of the hour, wasn't it?

"Because father wanted to make sure I didn't somehow add more to my collection while I'm down here," Hans said with a bitter smirk. "I'll admit that there's merit to that."

"Not that. Why… all this? Why hadn't you turned yourself in years ago?"

"Because I thought it was the right thing to do," Hans said.

"Turning yourself in was the right thing to do."

"I wanted to cure them! I can't do that if I'm locked away in an institution. And what about all those magicians I helped you and Gunther find? Wasn't that worth my freedom? Isn't that worth keeping our kingdom safe?"

Rudolf slammed his palms against the iron bars. "Not when it involves murder!"

The iron rang, Benjamin and Hans flinched, and Rudolf immediately regretted hitting them when his hands throbbed in pain. Silence.

Rudolf took a deep breath and recomposed himself. "You murdered a man, Hans," Rudolf said evenly. "Why?"

"I wasn't ready to die."

"So you trade someone else's life to save your own? Did you even regret what you did?"

"I didn't get these just because I thought they were pretty, Rudy," Hans said. He didn't need to move or look at anything for them to both know what "they" were. "And I regretted it. I regret it. But that's not really what you're trying to get at, aren't you? Just spit it out and say it already."

Rudolf hated the look on Benjamin's face, looking like he was lost and hardly could keep up with the conversation that he and Hans were having. The subtlety, the knowing of the little tics and word choice that was so easy for Rudolf and Hans to interpret when interacting with each other when no one else would like it was a secret they wanted to share but had no ability to. Benjamin should be the one to have that privilege, to be able to get into the psyche of their youngest sibling. Benjamin was always better at handling himself, composing himself, actually caring and doing the right thing every time. Twelfth-born Ben would've made a better mediator, a better Crown Prince had birth order not been an issue.

Instead, the Southern Isles has Rudolf. Instead, Hans has Rudolf.

"Why did it have to be you, too, Hans?" Rudolf said. Phrased as a question when it was anything but, because a question implied that there might be an answer, no matter how rhetorical.

Benjamin might not have known that, but the shift in Hans' stance told Rudolf enough that at least Hans knew.

His youngest brother searched his gaze, his jaw clenching, the muscles in his throat tensing as he took a few steps back and sank to the floor along an adjacent wall. Hans pulled his knees to his chest, side profile in view as he stared at a spot across from him. The distinguished nose that looked so much like Father's, that looked so much like Søren's, like Rudolf's. "It's his birthday today, isn't it? It's hard to keep track of time being down here."

Søren's birthday.

"It is," Rudolf said.

"To think that I only get to outlive him by a few months."

"Don't you dare talk like that, Hans," Benjamin said, his voice a welcome interruption between Rudolf's and Hans'. "We'll figure something out. We have to."

"Ben," Hans growled, pounding his fists against the ground. "Look around! Look at me! Look at all that I've done! It's over. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can move on."

"You shouldn't raise your voice at him, Hans," Rudolf said. "It's not wrong of him to still hold on to hope."

There was a flash of something dark in Hans's eyes when his youngest brother held his gaze, something that wrenched his stomach. He had never seen such a look coming from anyone in the family before. Was it always lying in wait like a slumbering monster that finally had awoken? Was it the magic finally corrupting his brother? Was it both?

"So you're also here to lecture me about right and wrong?" Hans said with a hard edge to his voice. "I know what's right and what's wrong. It's wrong for me to hope."

"What are you talking about?" Benjamin asked. "How can hope ever be wrong?"

"Rudolf knows exactly what I'm talking about."

For Rudolf to say it hit him wasn't enough. It pummeled him, threw him to the ground, and spat in his face: Hans had magic and magic latched onto a particular emotion, the one spark that would override the sorcerer completely, regardless of how far the corruption had taken them. Søren's was anger. Hans' was…

"That can't be," Rudolf said. "It's… it's not right."

"Doesn't matter if it was right or not, I had to live with it."

Rudolf stepped back, backing away until he reached the wall behind him. He closed his eyes and turned his face upward. All of it was too much. The unfairness, the outrageous chances that their family had to deal with this again, the twisting of his insides and crawling on his skin, making him admit Rudolf had a hand in it this time. It was his fault that Hans turned out like this, wasn't it? He'd been so afraid to face magic that he turned his own brother down the same path, not knowing where it was going to lead them. Of course. Of course it would drive Hans to these lengths. It didn't excuse what Hans did, but Rudolf couldn't walk away and say that he had no part in his brother's treachery. Why did it have to take losing another brother for him to see it? Why had no one stopped him?

No, he knew why. He was fooling himself into thinking that he was only trying to fix the hurt he still harbored after Søren's death by searching for answers and solutions to the problems magic created. But deep down, he knew the real reason.

It crushed all his dreams when Søren died. Søren was the crown prince, was raised to take the throne one day. Rudolf, as the second-born, was raised to travel and travel often. It was a life, a dream that he was content with. But it didn't turn out that way. Søren was never meant to take the throne, his late brother being the only one who knew it but hid it. Rudolf hadn't adjusted well to the change that brought. Now, he had to tie himself down to the Southern Isles, a nightmare for someone with his wanderlust. Rudolf was now the crown prince. The responsibility to marry, to oversee the affairs of the kingdom, to wholeheartedly love and want the best for the people within. They were Søren's shoes that Rudolf couldn't possibly fill. But that was neither here nor there.

His mother and father always told him that in every bad thing, good can still come out of it. He knew they meant well, the many times they've said it after Søren's funeral. He admired their faith, their belief that everything had some kind of purpose, but it wasn't for him. It meant that losing Søren was supposed to happen. But maybe that wasn't what they meant by that, was it?

Maybe it meant that in everything bad, he could still choose to do good. So what good could he do?

Two brothers. Two people that he had considered close to him were the lessons he needed to finally learn that hiding was not the way to live. That, for once in his life, he needed to step up to be the person he needed to be instead of mourning the man he wanted to be.

And they dared to call him "brilliant." What a lie.

Rudolf exhaled a shaky breath.

"I'll fix this, Hans," Rudolf said.

"How?"

Rudolf looked between Benjamin and Hans. "Don't worry, I'll handle it." He tapped his temple and offered a crooked smile. "You've got one of the kingdom's best assets right here. I'll make it right."

He would make it right. If the way to Hell was paved with good intentions, then Rudolf had no choice but to embrace it.

Author's Note:

We're nearing the end of my idea collection for this, which is ending at 21 "chapters." Number 21 is already mostly written (just need to edit stuff and attempt to make it flow better), and number 20 is mostly in the general-scene-structure phase. Once this is all done, expect edits (especially the first two chapters) since I didn't like how they were written but had no time or concept to write them "better" when they were first typed out. I also wanted to take this time to thank each and every one of you who've read and commented on this work. I see each and every one of them, though I'm really bad at responding to them due to lacking the right words to say or to even say them. Again, thanks!