"You've lost your mind."

He may have. There was no doubt that his brothers would not have the strongest of belief regarding what he had just told them, magic was far more uncommon in the Southern Isles than it was in Arendelle, especially when he had mentioned that this had come from his three years old son –a literal toddler who has great grasp of imagination and make-believe.

Rudi and Jurgen were the most vocal in expressing how ridiculous it was all, following the faint light that their youngest brother believed to have come from his wife had sounded awfully similar to the children believe of following the second star to the right should they wish to find a new undiscovered land. To put it simply, it was nothing but nonsense.

"But we are going to head west anyway, no?" Lars reasoned; his eyes were solely directed at the eighth brother while he ignored the other three.

Lucas' eyes flickered up to meet the older, brows furrowing. "So, you suggest we believe the words of a child?"

"Even if it is untrue, the direction did not stray from our original plan." The third oldest shrugged, adjusting the way his spectacles sat across his nose. "But you're the Master Strategist one between us, brother, and I shall place the final decision to you."

Fingers running through sandy blonde hair, Hans noted the way Lucas' jaws tightened, eyes casted down at the map that had not been disturbed ever since their last meeting, studying the surface of it as the gears in his head turned.

During this moment, Hans himself had decided for his own choice. Whatever it was that Lucas would have to say in the end, he would still go and chase that glint of magic, even if it meant going alone, even if it meant that should it was false belief and he would have his brothers ridiculing him when he returned. He owed it to his son for his poor treatment of him earlier, even when Wilhelm had forgiven him, he still had to make this right, he had to at least try and show his son that he really did believe in his words.

"Very well." Lucas nodded, straightening up. "We shall leave tomorrow, at dawn."

Rudi stepped forward, undoubtedly in disbelief just by his expression, his brows furrowing so deeply his face might as well remained that way permanently. "Are you really going to stomp down and believe all of this nonsense? Magic and a word of a child?"

In turn, Lucas had also had his brows furrowed at his younger brother's doubt over his decision. "If you had listened properly, dear brother, you would have known that Lars had a point. We are going west, with or without our nephew's words. I don't think there is much for you to argue here."

"Then it is settled." Jurgen concluded with a huff, breaking the growing tension. "We should get plenty of rest, got a damsel in distress to rescue tomorrow."

One by one they dispersed, leaving the Council Room, with Hans tailing the last, though he had to mentally cursed himself on deciding not to leave earlier, as he had met his mother at the other side of the door, feet stopping in an instant just as she raised her eyebrow at the tensed-up shoulders of her youngest son.

"Walk with me?" it was expressed more of a question, but truly, he didn't feel like he had any other choice but to nod, tugging the door closed behind him as the Queen of the Southern Isles spun at her heels, going ahead.

It didn't take him much to catch up really, his mother did not walk as fast as she usually did, for she intended to prolong the conversation as much as she possibly could. "What do you wish to talk about, Mother?"

"Is it not allowed for a mother to wish for her son to simply walk with her? Especially during such a peaceful night."

"I know you are not that type of a person."

Queen Adela's lips were pulled into a thin straight line at his comment, though her eyes remained trailed forward to the castle's hallways. "I heard that you and your brothers are going tomorrow." Of course, she had, even without her immediate presence in the room, she always found her way in knowing things. Perhaps having thirteen sons really had it's perks. "I only wish for you to be careful."

"You know I am."

"Not when it comes to your wife, you're not." The Queen shook her head, stopping in her track –followed closely by him. "You love her unconditionally, Hans, and I'm truly glad that you do. But your love could blind you, make you careless, and do not try to deny it." she added with a pointed look just as his lips parted to voice an argument. "You need to stay sharp, Hans, especially if you come across her."

His jaw tightened. It had almost felt like his mother's words had meant that his love for Elsa was a weakness, his undoing. "Perhaps if Father had not done what he did," he started through gritted teeth. "There would not have been the Black Dahlia of Weselton."

"You can't blame the past, Hans."

"I can when it affects my future." Affecting his life and his own little family despite them having nothing to do with what had happened, all the while his Father sat on his throne, drinking mead to his heart's desire, safe and sound behind the castle's walls surrounded by guards standing alert day and night. "If he hadn't—"

"I am well aware of his sins, Hans." Queen Adela cut off, holding her hand up to silence him. "I was there, standing right by his side, when he had made that decision. I look her right in the eyes, I watch her face and the way her expression changed, that day."

"And yet you did nothing, Mother."

"He is the King," the Queen of the Southern Isles had let out a sigh then, almost sounding… tired. "There is only so much that I can do."

No matter how much of a powerful woman his mother was, how respected and held high she was, his father still sat above her, still had power over her and the entire nation, his words were the law of the Southern Isles until Caleb ascend the throne when he passed away.

With the moonlight illuminating her through the large tall windows like this, Hans could see that age had truly gotten a hold of his mother. The crease of wrinkles adorning her skin, the tiredness in her eyes, the streaks of grey in her auburn hair, everything had been the price of living for more than half a decade already, mothering thirteen boys to fulfill the King's desire of spreading the Southern Isles' reign far and wide through his heirs.

"It's late." Breaking the silence between them, the Prince Consort had nodded toward the darkened sky outside, moon already high up and surrounded with blinking stars. "Excuse me, but I must retire back to my chambers and rest for tomorrow's journey."

"Of course." Nodding, Queen Adela had started to make her leave, taking a few steps forward before she had paused once again, head turning to look over her shoulder at her youngest. "I really do try, Hans, to change the things that your father had decided, but he is your father, you know how he is."

Perhaps she hasn't tried harder.

The sun was already setting behind them.

It was never a short journey to make from Arendelle to Hølen, the two places were separated by a vast forest and grass field, it would have been a truly wonderful sight to behold –especially during the summer such as now, yet never once did he slowed Sitron down as the five Princes rode across on their horsebacks with the Arendelle's royal guards following close behind. There was no such time to stop and enjoy the view, even their rest was kept as short as possible, just enough to let the horses graze and drink as they gathered their strength back up while their riders stretched their legs.

He didn't want to waste even a minute in searching for his wife. Not when they were so close with new leads to follow.

Eyes were on them when they had arrived in town as people scrambled and stumbled backward to avoid standing in the way and being trampled over, parents tugging their children back as some were too curious in having so many royals at the same time. They didn't stop, didn't even slow down as they cut through the plaza, heading straight west.

Craning his neck, he had stared up, frowning at the dense foliage over their heads. He had noted that the blinking magic in the sky –Elsa's magic, had grown bigger the closer the more they had traveled west, but as soon as they had left town and entered the forest, he now even had a hard time looking for the blue sky.

So far, they had not seen anything out of the ordinary the further they cautiously rode their horses, no disturbance on the ground or their surroundings for that matter. It had been a while since his last journey to Hølen, back when he had followed Ahtohallan's clue, nature must have hidden the tracks they were desperately looking for.

"It will be dark soon." Rudi noted with a huff. "And we haven't found anything."

Even Lucas had looked rather uncomfortable now, his confidence in tracking slowly fading away, he may even consider telling them to turn back around.

A gush of wind blew past them, the direction felt unnatural as it came from their backs and yet seemed that it had only blew around the men as a high-pitched sound whistled past, prompting confused looks to be exchanged between the Princes and the guards.

Gale.

The spirits had never left the Enchanted Forest before, saved from the Nokk who had taken Elsa as far as it could to Hølen as per her request, and the Southern Isles royals had never even encountered such beings before. But he has, he has and he knew that the wind spirit was trying to lead them.

Giving a look at Lars, a silent banter in hope that he could understand his meaning, Hans had urged Sitron forward, following the wind spirit. A moment passed before he could hear the galloping behind him, as the third brother had somehow made the others to follow the youngest, abandoning the small road they had been following as Gale had revealed the wheel tracks on the ground as he passed and blew the dried leaves away.

Finally, after riding deeper into the forest, the wind spirit had led them into a small clearing, circling around one specific spot and disappearing once the auburn-haired Prince had dismounted his stallion and opted to move by his own feet instead. There was something there, on the ground, glinting under the dull afternoon light, and as he lowered himself to his knees, green eyes had widened as he finally saw what it was.

There, half hidden under dried leaves, was the ring that he had known so well. Elsa's ring.

He had given it to her, had handpicked the snowflake design as her wedding ring long before he had even known of her magic. Back then, he had only thought of her hair, platinum blonde framing her fair face, reminding him of winter and snow. He had not the slightest idea that it would have meant more than that.

"Hans," Lucas called out, prompting him to look up from the piece of jewelry that had never once left his wife's finger. Following the direction that the older brother was pointing at; his heart had skipped a beat.

The distance made it small, easy to miss especially when the day was starting to darkened, but Lucas' keen eyes had caught the sight of it. A cottage.

Elsa.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

The large gaping hole on the wall, embedded with frost and ice, had been enough for them to know that Elsa was there, she had tried to escape, to run away from her captor; the only question that remained was whether she had succeeded.

Each had drawn their sword, gripping tightly as they took cautious steps in, ordering for the guards to be on the watch outside, gritting their teeth with each squeak the wooden floor made under their heavy boots. The cottage had looked vacant, lifeless, abandoned; yet it did not mean that they could lower their defenses for a trick may be up to jump them at any given moment.

"I don't think they're here." Jurgen huffed through gritted teeth, in such a place with no much source of light to illuminate them his eyes had looked even darker. "It's going to be dark soon."

Had he lost her once again? Had she slipped past his fingers for the second time after he had been so close in finding her? Her ring had somehow felt heavier in his pocket as the thoughts of not being able to see his wife weighted him down.

"Very well." The sigh that he had let out was heavy, defeated. He knew that searching in the dark would not be as effective, they would be barely able to see anything, and they could always continue on tomorrow, after resting at the town's small inn. "Let us head back."

He had been so hopeful, with all the traces and clues that she had apparently left him, of how his own brothers had been helping him to some degree –although some were less willing than others, and with the ring and the gaping hole he had thought that he would finally see her face again, to be able to get her back to the safety of their castle, but it seemed that the Duchess had once again being one step ahead of—

A sound. Faint, muffled, felt as if it was distant and yet it was still inside the cottage, had barely reached his ears; like something had fallen onto the floor in a thump.

Raising his hand, a silent gesture for his brothers to stop and not make a sound, he had listened intently to the air –of every breath that his brothers take and past the beat of his own heart against his chest, waiting with held back breath that he had not imagined whatever it was that he had heard.

Another one, and this time the rest of the brothers had heard it too as their heads perked up over the sound of something dull coming in contact with hard ground. Someone was here, Elsa was probably still here, and this was her way of telling him.

Lucas motioned toward the floor. There was something underneath them, a hidden passageway or a room of sort, and it was where the noise had come from.

It was Lars who had found the scratches on the wooden floor, right by the empty shelf that towered up to the ceiling, standing like a sore thumb in such a small space. Following the direction of it, they had pushed the piece of furniture aside to reveal a gaping hole on the wall in the size of a door, a staircase leading down into the dark.

Her name was all that he could think about, repeating over and over again like a spell as he stepped forward, letting the pouring moonlight to lead him deeper as his brothers –though unsure, followed close behind.

At the base of the staircase there stood a singular door made of metal, shut tight with only a small opening acting as a window that illuminated dull warm light from within. His breath hitched, as this could turn to be either good or bad, as he swallowed the lump in his throat, settling himself as for the first time he dared himself to call for her name out loud.

"Elsa?"

A moment passed, though it felt like it was far longer than that for him as his heart had beginning to flatter, before there was a clank of metal –chains perhaps, from inside, followed with a feminine gasp. "Hans!"

It felt like his heart had burst then as he leaped toward the door, body practically slamming itself against the cold surface of the metal, peering into the door. And there she was, sitting on the bed across the small room, eyes wide and teary staring back at him under the dim light. His gaze didn't leave hers as his hands struggled against the handle that had refused to budge.

The door was not locked –merely slightly jammed, and was able to be pushed open with a heavy creak as metal grazed against the stone flooring, and Hans had not waste even a single second to burst in and made his way to his wife, enveloping her in his embrace just as she had gotten up to stand.

She froze, if only momentarily, brain processing everything before her body eventually trembled, heart racing against his own chest, as her fingers curled around the fabric of his clothing –holding tight as if she was afraid that he would be gone if she let go, as if he was nothing but a mere imagination, nails dully digging into it.

She didn't let go, even as his brothers worked their way in trying to unlock the chains that were attached to both of her wrists, connecting her to the wall by the bed's side. She didn't even flinch when they turned the key around to release her after finding the small piece of metal lying just by the entrance as if it was left there. Her hold against her husband remained, shaky but had that vice-like grip that he could not escape from –nor that he wanted to as he kept her in his embrace, just utterly relieved that he could hold her once again, to find her in a mostly good shape although he could tell that she was in a brim of tears even without having to have a look at her face that she had buried against his shoulder.

"Take me home," she murmured, voice somewhat muffled by his jacket that he had almost missed the exhausted and utterly defeated tone laced in it. "Please…"

She was pleading, he even dared say that she almost sounded so hopeless, like she had believed that he would not come for her –that she would forever becoming a prisoner stuck in such a horrible situation, that he would give up and leave her.

"We will, Elsa, we will go home."