"Come on, Hans! It's fun!"

From over the top of his book, the young prince watched his brothers spar. Caleb was unwavering, as any soldier should be. Even in a rough training uniform, he still looked princely and unfazed by the work the friendly match required. Jehan, on the other hand, was out of steam. Sweat blotted his shirt, his hair was plastered to his forehead, and his chest heaved desperately, grabbing for air that his lungs were too tired to take in.

"No thank you," Hans kept his features stoic and his eyes trained on the pages rather than the weapons, "I have classes later, I don't want to go in there smelling like a pig."

Caleb cackled, all the while parrying each of Jehan's blows who seemed to be getting more and more frustrated by the minute. "Little brother, tell me. Really, what are you going to do with architecture lessons?" Hans's eyes flicked to the older boy, "The same with music, and even chess. They'll get you nowhere. But the sword?"

With a single flick of his wrist, Caleb disarmed Jehan, and had the sword pointed at his brother's neck. "The sword can give you everything."

The two locked gazes, and when Hans diverted his eyes back to the book, Caleb sighed. "Alright, come here." He motioned for the boy, but Hans didn't respond, "Hansyyyy, come heeeeere. I know you want to."

"Just let him be, Caleb." Jehan's voice was sharp, "We were in the middle of a lesson."

Caleb shrugged, "A lesson you don't need. Your footwork and your form are fine."

"But I don't want fine." Jehan growled, "I want it to be better than fine. Why can't you just-"

"We'll do it later, Jehan. Hans needs this more than you do."

"But-" Jehan opened his mouth to protest, but the eldest brother was walking toward Hans who dared not look away from his book.

"Come on, I'll teach you."

Hans looked away from the words to see his brother kneeling in front of him. His emerald eyes were sad, his mouth drooped into a frown. "But you've tried..." Hans muttered, setting the book tot he side. "I'm not good at it like you are.."

Caleb cracked a smile. "Hans, let me tell you a secret. When I was your age, I couldn't even lift a sword." Hans's brow raised incredulously, and the older boy shrugged. "It's true. I couldn't even lift it off the ground. When I first started, it was embarrassing. Father always reminds me of my first fight. I got knocked face first into the mud, but I spent a lot of time practicing." Caleb ruffled the boy's hair, "A lot of time, and look at me now. Everyone starts off like you. Even Jehan has gotten his butt kicked more than a few times, but he'll never tell you that... now come on. He's tired so it'll be easier to beat him."

Hans smiled at the boy and slipped off the bench, walking toward Jehan. The second eldest's glare was intimidating. Hans didn't even know what he'd done wrong. Before he could get his bearings, Caleb handed him a sword, one small enough to fit his hands and body. Jehan clicked his tongue, a bitter smirk coming onto his lips as he lowered himself into a ready stance.

Hans gulped as he held his sword out, forcing his eyes away from Jehan's. They were even more intense than they'd been mere seconds ago. The boy looked ready for war. "Caleb, I can't-"

"Keep your sword up, Hans. Here he comes!"

Jehan came at Hans, albeit slower than he'd gone against Caleb. He snarled as he let Hans parry the blow and trap their swords together.

"Alright, now twist the sword, Hans." Caleb instructed.

The younger prince blinked at his brother. "What? What do you mean twist the sword?"

"Twist it. Trap his sword with the guard."

Hans did as he was told.

"Now disarm him."

The younger boy tried to wrench Jehan's blade out of his hand. It worked. He turned back to Caleb. "Like that?"

Caleb nodded and smiled. "Exactly. Now, you practice that. I have to go talk to father."

Jehan's jaw worked. "Caleb, you can't just leave. What about our-"

"Later, Jehan."

The two looked at each other, and even Hans could tell that there had been no understanding reached in their one brief shared gaze. Jehan growled and bent to pick up his sword, and when he turned to look back at Hans, the younger boy had chills. It was like a mad dog had just been released from its cage, begging for a bone that had bene given to another beast. There was longing in his blue orbs, a sadness that could only manifest in anger. "Put. Your sword. Up, Hans."

/

"Hans."

The red-haired man shot up, and was greeted with a searing pain in his stomach. He shut his eyes tight, and his hand came to grip the stinging area in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. His fingers found rough fabric instead of skin, and his eyes fluttered open. As his vision became less nebulous, he honed in on the white wrapped around his torso, and the red that stained the pure white.

Everything came flooding back to him all at once. The ball. His wound. The crossbow.

Elsa.

His eyes scanned his surroundings, and rage he thought he'd pushed aside boiled as he realized where he was. The darkened walls lined with colonies of mold, the rhythmic dripping of water onto the dark ground of stone, the foul odor; a mix of deceased rats and rotten food, that could only reside in a place he'd spent too much time in.

Once again, he was in a dungeon. He gripped his wound tighter.

"No." He growled, "No, not again!"

"Wow, they really did a number on you didn't they?"

Hans's eyes settled on Ravian. The spirit had his arms crossed, and was dressed in his usual pretentious attire; his crimson suit and matching trousers, and his hair was groomed to perfection. It only fueled the fire of Hans's rage, and the former Prince's shoulders shook with fury.

"This is your fault!" He yelled, attempting to stand with the help of his other hand, but to no avail, and it only angered him more. "Where on earth did you run off to?" His tone was sharp and accusatory, but Ravian gave no reaction, and it only fanned the desire for Hans to continue on. "If you had just answered and came when I told you to, none of this would have happened!" He seethed, "I wouldn't be here in this stinking, rotting, hell hole of a place. Again!"

Hans's words echoed in the small space, but Ravian's silence only made the cell seem smaller, like Hans hadn't yelled loud enough.

It was after a long moment that Ravian chuckled. "I saved your life, you ungrateful buffoon. Twice over, in fact."

Hans's eyes went wide, and a faithless laugh escaped his lips. "What on earth are you talking about? I-"

"Without me," Ravian lifted his head, peering down his nose to look at the former Prince, "you would be nothing." Ravian took tantalizing steps forward toward the royal who he'd rendered speechless. Hans opened his mouth to speak, but no sound would leave his lips. The spirit hooked his finger underneath Hans's chin, and lifted the man's head carefully, as if any break in the motion would cause Hans to shatter. "Without me, you would be starving to death on that island, with no food or water and, most importantly, no power." Hans gulped, and couldn't deny it was true. Even like this, he could feel Ravian's magic pulsing through his fingertips. It was cruel, to dangle his desires in front of him like this, and the look in the spirit's eyes told Hans that Ravian knew it too, and he was enjoying it. "Without me, that arrow goes through you, darling. So, before you point fingers, I suggest you get your facts straight."

The spirit leaned closer, and only stopped his advance as the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. Ravian's amber eyes fell shut, and in an instant, he'd disappeared, and had taken his usual place within Hans.

We'll continue this later...

Hans nodded, and chose to focus on the increasing closeness of the steps, rather than on the warmth that came from Ravian's power.

"He's in here, Majesty." The voice from the other side was a guard, and the former Prince's fingers gripped his wound tighter.

He shut his eyes, and didn't bother to look when the door opened. He didn't need to see the cold to sense it. He took in a breath, to calm the nerves that had suddenly surfaced, and opened his eyes to meet the gaze of the Queen.

Elsa had changed out of her regal gown in exchange for her staple dress of ice and crystals, and hair was tamed in its usual braid. Her eyes were vigilant as she examined him, sized him up like Jehan had years ago on the training grounds. He was the first to break, his gaze falling to the floor. He didn't have the energy to play her game at the moment. He'd spent years like that, on edge, wondering scared, holding his blade at the ready. It had only been a matter of time until his arms got tired.

There was only silence between them for what felt like an eternity until Elsa spoke, "Your brother said you were exiled?"

Hans raised a brow at the woman, and lifted his head only to let out a chuckle, "So that's what he calls being thrown overboard and dropped in the middle of nowhere?" Another chuckle left him, "If that's your definition too, Elsa, then yes. I was exiled."

Elsa's eyes lingered on the Prince's face and form. Each second that went by, her gaze only grew more intense. Hans bit his lip, and turned his head toward the window. The last time he'd seen the exterior of Arendelle form the dungeons, it had been frigid, a raging blizzard conjured by the woman who stood before him. Now? There wasn't a cloud in sight, and the dungeon somehow felt brighter and more inviting than the ballroom the night before. The irony forced a chuckle from his lips, but Elsa didn't seem to find anything about the situation funny. If anything, it only made her more wary.

"Why are you here?"

Hans opened his mouth to speak, but it closed before any answer could come to mind. At least an answer that was simple. He sighed, and his head fell into his hands. His mind took him back.

He had a potion in his hands, and Ravian had spoke.

It will take you where you want to go.

So why on earth had he wanted to come here of all places? He lifted his head to meet Elsa's gaze, and shrugged. " I don't know, Elsa. But I had nowhere else to go."

The Queen's eyes narrowed, disbelief clear in her expression. "You have your uncle, don't you? Why wouldn't he-"

"I did go to him." Hans shook his head, "But he wanted nothing to do with me either after I..." He grimaced at the memory. The flames. Maximums. The screams. "Never mind."

Elsa still didn't seem convinced, though Hans wasn't sure that anything he did would prove him to be trustworthy in her eyes. For the moment he chose to look at her, her own gaze held questions, too many for her to ask and him to answer without sounding completely insane. So, he chose to say nothing, but Elsa still found a way to break the silence. "He was worried about you.. your brother."

Hans raised a brow, his interest piqued. Jehan? Worried? About him? Hans let out a true laugh. "I'm glad to know you have a sense of humor, but joking about something like that just isn't very funny."

Elsa shook her head, "He told me himself. After you were taken to get your wound cleaned."

Hans rolled his eyes. That only made it harder to believe. When his eyes settled on the Queen again, they were no longer focused on Hans's gaze, but rather the bandage wrapped around his torso, and his hand covering the red that had bled through. He eventually found her gaze and, for the first time, he saw warmth in them, but it left as soon as it showed itself.

The air in the room had suddenly grown thick, and Hans found it even harder to look at the woman, though it had almost been impossible already. "So..." He muttered, turning his head away, "What are you going to do with me?"

The question had lingered ever since Elsa had arrived, but he'd only decided to address it now, at the worst moment possible. He was expecting execution. With a crime such as treason, and attempted murder, it would be a justified punishment, but he still hoped that Elsa would come to a different decision. He knew he wouldn't be going down without a fight. It would be a shame to ruin the already mediocre rapport he'd built with her over the past five minutes. He snuck a glance at Elsa who had her eyes closed, and her brows furrowed in focus.

"I don't know," A hand came up as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "but I still have questions for you." Elsa's eyes opened, and the two locked gazes once more, "I'm keeping you around, but you are walking a very, very fragile line." Hans swallowed, and had to look away. Chills ran down his spine to his toes, all Elsa's doing for emphasis, he assumed. "I'll send someone to fetch you a change of clothes. You'll be at my side for the remainder of the festival so I can keep an eye on you. And we can talk."

She turned on her heels, and Hans took in a breath, and gathered his dignity and honor all in one breath, "Thank you." Elsa stopped just as she was about to push open the door. She didn't turn, she didn't move, she didn't say a single word for a moment that lingered too long.

"You're welcome." She muttered, and pushed the door open, and Hans found himself smiling as the metal door shut, locking him in a cell once again, but this time, it didn't feel as small.

/

The lips of the platinum-haired man roved over Jehan's neck gently, worshipping every inch of the Prince's skin they touched. Once again, Melody was nowhere in sight, and the opportunity arose for a brief moment of privacy. Usually, Jehan didn't mind these moments, these minutes of betrayal. But now?

"Enough." He pushed the man gently away from him, allowing Jehan respite from the wall he'd been pressed up against. "I'm sorry, I just..." The Prince crossed the room and found a seat on the mattress. He urgently grabbed a pillow and covered the entirety of his face as he screamed into the soft silk. When he finally pulled the pillow from his face, his cheeks were red, and his jaw worked rapidly.

The platinum-haired spirit chuckled. "That's an alluring look for you, Majesty." He teased, "How refined."

Jehan shot the man a glare, but he didn't have the energy, or the will to be angry. "What is he doing here..?" He muttered, "What...? How did he get here? He was thrown off a boat in the middle of nowhere! How could he be in Arendelle?!"

The spirit hummed and leaned elegantly against the wall, "Your guess is as good as mine, love."

The two locked eyes, and Jehan glared at the spirit's smirk. "You know." The Prince growled, "Tell me."

The man chuckled, "Truly, I'm clueless."

"Ragna."

"I'm going to sneak something from the kitchens. Would you like anything?"

"Ragna!"

"Chocolate covered strawberries it is, then."

"Ragna, wait!"

Before Jehan could even stand, the spirit had sunk into the shadows of the wall, and disappeared from sight. The Prince sighed, and groaned as his head fell forward into the pillow again. The events of the previous night unfolded behind his eyes. The sudden chaos, Hans's face, Hans' simply being there. His chest tightened. God, what had he done? For all his hatred, for all the horrible things he'd done to his brother, exile was by far the worse. He'd been the biggest advocate, he'd been the one to push for the consequence. For the first time, his younger brothers had to be the source of reason, but Jehan hadn't wanted to see it at the time.

He couldn't pinpoint why he'd fought so hard to be rid of his brother, but seeing him like that, unconscious and wounded... His body felt heavy, his throat tightened and his eyes burned. He had to see him. He didn't care how hard it would be, he just had to see his brother's face.

He grumbled as he stood, and straightened out the sharp black fabric of his suit before opening the door and heading down the hall. It wasn't long before he heard familiar commotion.

"What are you thinking?! You can't possibly be serious. You're going to let him stay here?!"

Jehan peeked his head around the corner, and bit his lip at the sight of the Queen and Princess standing face to face. Anna's cheeks were as red as her hair, and her body was coiled in rage.

"He saved you," Elsa crossed her arms over her chest, "and he saved me. And I still have questions for him."

Anna shook her head, "Elsa, I understand you having questions, and I know he saved me and I'm grateful, but he tried to kill you!" The Princess sighed, "I... I trust you," Her tone turned soft, "But I'm just.. I'm just worried."

Jehan sighed, and turned around. if Hans would be staying, then he'd have plenty of time to touch base with his brother, and he wasn't sure he really had the courage to face him as he was now. He hung his head defeatedly as she reopened the door to his room, and raised a brow to find his spirit sitting on the bed, holding a bowl out to him.

"There you are," The spirit grinned, "I was wondering where you went. You didn't talk to him, did you?"

Jehan shook his head and sat down next to the man on the bed, taking the bowl of sweet fruit and resting it gently in his lap. "No, I can't... not yet at least." He carefully bit into the berry, relief briefly washing over him, but the feeling left him too soon as he turned to face the spirit who's gaze was locked on the Prince. "Are you going to tell me what you know or are you just going to keep me in suspense?"

The spirit chuckled, and reached to take a strawberry of his own. "Well, I don't know what your brother is thinking. I only have that wonderful privilege with you. But, if I had to guess, I'd say he got tired of being thirteenth. Just as you got tired of being second." He shrugged, "You did something about it. It wouldn't surprise me if he did the same."

Footsteps made themselves heard in the hall, and the spirit placed the stem of his strawberry back in the bowl. "I'll see you soon, dear.."

The murmur in Jehan's ear made him shiver, and the spirit fell away, seeping its power back inside the Prince just as the door opened, and Melody smiled at her husband. "Is that for me?" She grinned slyly at the bowl of treats.

Jehan had to take a moment to collect himself before grinning, and forcing a chuckle from his own lips, "Yes. I had one already, forgive me. I didn't want them to go to waste."

Melody shook her head, and took the spirit's seat on the bed and reached for a berry herself. "I forgive you, but I still missed you. I wish you would have gone out riding with me."

Jehan frowned, "I know, I'm sorry. I just... if you can imagine, I'm not really in the mood. I'm still.. in shock.."

Melody's hand came to rest on Jehan's arm, and the Prince turned to look in his wife's eyes. There was nothing but understanding in them, and the smile he'd worn moments ago returned. Every time he looked at her, his worries seemed to fall away, no matter how massive they were. "I understand.." She murmured, "Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are.. but you'll face him when you're ready. How do you think he feels knowing you're here?"

Jehan sighed, and leaned his head against the woman's arm. "I know... I was so..." He swallowed, "Do you think he'd forgive me..?"

His eyes flicked up, and he saw the uncertainty in his wife's features, and the way her jaw worked. But, even so, she still smiled. "I think you won't know until you try."

/

The dungeon was wretched, but wasn't that the point? Ravian hummed softly as he looked out the window. At least there was some beauty in this dire situation. His eyes shifted toward Hans, who'd fallen asleep peacefully, though the spirit was surprised the wound wasn't giving him any trouble. His eyes hardened as he looked at the Prince, and his gaze shifted to his hands.

He could feel their connection in every crevice, every inch of him could feel Hans's being. Their auras felt so different, and yet he could practically see the invisible string that bound them together, chaining Ravian to this buffoon who had no business wielding the spirit's power. He closed his eyes, and his fingers curled into fists, and his brow furrowed in focus.

The feeling of their connection intensified but, slowly, the difference he felt between them suddenly began to fade away. He could feel his body becoming whole, more real, concrete and truly a part of the world around him.

"Mhmmm..."

Ravian's eyes shot open, and a thin aura of red had formed around Hans. the same had formed around Ravian but, with every passing second, his grew brighter, while Hans's dimmed. The former Prince's brows furrowed, and he began to twist and turn, to writhe as if he were in pain. Ravian growled lowly and willed Hans's presence away, and implored his own to grow, but it wouldn't. No matter how hard he pushed, no matter how much he begged, Hans's aura wouldn't dim any more.

He sighed, and the thin aura around him and the former Prince disappeared. Hans ceased his squirming, and Ravian's shifted to his hands again.

"Soon..." He murmured to himself.

Soon, he'd be free of his prison.

A/N:

Wooooooow it's been a while haha. So, a lot has happened since I last updated. I graduated from school and the world went into lockdown soooo yeah. Things are, needless to say, pretty interesting right now. Anyway, I'm super glad I finally got to write this new chapter up. I know its short, but I promise there'll be some longer ones coming up.

I also want to thank everyone who's stayed with this story through all my absences. You guys are the best!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Have an awesome day!