A/N: I quite enjoyed the last chapter. Fleshing out my brothers is fun. Enjoy the timeline as we are nearing the point of skipping, but if we go by a few years/months/whatever it may be, I will let you know quickly, so don't worry. And I'm so sorry about the late chapter. I have important life things to see to, so I've had less time to write recently. Fingers crossed the next one comes quicker.

Chapter Four

Fighting the Good Fight

Harald had been wearing a smile since breakfast, and that fact made Hans uncomfortable. He did not know what his brother was up to, but hoped it was good news. All he had to go on was a request his brother had made late last night to hold an audience with him mid-day. Hans dared not refuse, not after their encounter left such a negative impression before Anna made it worse. Now the time was nearing and he made his way to the throne room where Elsa would be waiting. The pride of proving himself capable of holding the title King was wearing thin under the pressures accompanying it, and Hans was glad for the time with her.

As he entered, soldiers on either side of the doors bowed in respect. They had grown more accustomed to showing him honor, though whether obligated or forced to do so Hans did not know. Elsa, as he predicted, was already waiting for him when he arrived, regally resting in the throne beside his. He approached and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"It's good to see you," he whispered.

"You, too," she whispered back. "Any idea why we're here?"

"Not a clue," Hans replied, "but my brother knows."

"Here he comes." Elsa said, returning to a neutral sitting position.

Harald strode purposefully into the room. His very presence made the soldiers stiffen, and Hans had to smile. Harald approached the rulers at the front, but said nothing immediately, simply bowing in a perfect, fleet movement, and backing away off to the side.

Hans started to ask why they were there, but before he could, the throne doors opened, and a young brunette wandered hesitantly into the throne room, half guided by a soldier, though she looked displeased by it and he in turn seemed all too eager to leave her. He leaned in, whispering something, and the color drained from the woman's face.

Hans waited a moment, then acknowledged her. "Greetings."

"Your highness?" the lady squeaked. It looked as if she might blow over in a slight breeze.

"What is your name?" Elsa asked. She was keenly aware of the girl's nervousness.

"Lily," she answered with a voice hardly over a whisper, "Lily Granthson."

"And what can we do for you?" Hans asked, doing his best to sound gentle.

Again, Elsa chimed in, the name ringing a small bell in the back of her mind. "Are you related perhaps to the late Captain Erik?"

The girl nodded once, her knees wobbling. "He was my father, your majesty."

"He was a commendable man; I remember him well." Elsa soothed, noting how frightened the girl looked. She resumed where Hans had left off. "What can we do for you, Lily?"

"I don't know, your majesty," the girl replied hesitantly. "I was summoned."

Hans looked to Elsa, who seemed just as puzzled as himself.

"If I may, your majesties?" Harald suddenly interjected. He walked over next to Lily. "I met this young woman the other day in the training courtyards. I would beg your indulgence of a quick spar for your viewing pleasure to showcase her talent."

Hans heard chuckling from the guards at the back of the room and frowned at their show of disrespect. "With whom?" he questioned.

"Myself." Harald drew his sword with an audible slick metallic squeal. "If Miss Granthson has no objections."

Lily had not stopped staring in his direction since he started speaking, and now she stammered. "I…" She fumbled for a grasp on her words. "No, of course not."

"Good." Harald suddenly subtly shifted arms, taking the sword in his right hand.

Hans met his brother's eyes only a moment, confusion lining them. Why are you doing this? Why are you using your bad arm?

"Miss Granthson?" Harald projected, clenching his sword tightly. "Are you ready?"

Lily began to object, but one of the other soldiers, directed by Harald, allowed her to borrow his sword. She accepted it, looking in Harald's direction, and slowly extended her sword. "Shouldn't we use practice weapons?"

"No, I'm certain we've no need. You won't make contact." He smiled confidently, and as if she could sense it, Lily smiled in return. "Ready? Let's begin." He immediately lunged forward with a swift thrust, but Lily sprang away from him, her eyes wildly flickering from side to side. Harald again made a second passing jab, but Lily dodged him once more, nimbly stepping away. "Look at you, like a little hare, you are…" Harald murmured, apparently loud enough for Lily to hear.

The growing joy apparent in her expression, she grinned toothily. "Maybe I am, and I suppose that makes you the tortoise!"

Harald scoffed at the remark with the crease of a smile, trying another jab, but this time he was waiting for her dodge. Another strike, and he made contact with her sword, the harsh clang sounding a protest as Lily stumbled in surprise. Harald swiftly brought his sword to her neck, where it hovered just brushing the delicate curve of her skin.

Lily's joy gave way to defeat, and she let her sword drop lifelessly at her side. "You win."

"Of course I won," Harald replied, turning to face his brother. Hans nodded, impressed with how well his brother still commanded his sword. "But to be fair, your majesties, the playing field was not even. Allow me a quick rematch." He reached into his suit jacket and removed a handkerchief, trying it around his head, effectively blinding himself. "Now we are even." As he spoke, he motioned for the soldiers behind him. "Please replace the weapons with practice ones." He fidgeted for a firm hold of his lighter, harmless sword, clearly more uncomfortable with these circumstances. "Begin."

Lily immediately tried an attack, which Harald just barely avoided. The two circled one another like predators do prey, but Lily had taken years to perfect her reliance on hearing. Each step he took called to her, painting a perfect picture. She readied herself, tensing, and struck. Harald avoided her by inches, and she turned, intending on attacking him from behind. Harald knew this strategy but he could not know which side she would attack. He guessed correctly to block, but though his reaction time was on pointe, his strength in his bad arm was rapidly giving out on him. Tired and weakened from so much concentration on holding his sword and thrusting, the strike sent shockwaves through his arm, and his fingers involuntarily loosened, his sword clattering to the ground.

Hans could barely remember when he was a child; the last time he'd seen his brother disarmed was burned into his memory.

#

On that day, he had been lonely, which was so normal for him In those days he hardly acknowledged it. He ached for someone to play with, but he doubted his brothers would oblige. They may have stopped pretending he was invisible altogether, but they still ignored him whenever possible. He followed noises ringing out down the hall, squeezing his head between the doors, and watched the excitement unfold. His father playfully sparred with an adolescent Harald, the future characteristic of his mustache absent, face squared in concentration.

"You're letting up on your right, don't let me through," his father warned.

"I'm not!" Harald refuted, trying to penetrate his father's defense without any luck.

That was when Hans, excited to watch his older brother fight and hopeful of company, pushed at the door with his weight. With a long groan, the door opened, and Harald turned to look.

"Ah-hah!" George playfully exclaimed, disarming his son with a quick flick of his sword, sending Harald's weapon flying away across the floor. "Never let yourself be distracted by anything around you during a fight, son."

"B-but!" sputtered Harald, "that's cheating! You can't do that!"

"Now, Harald…" his father gently chided, "you wanted a real fight. In a real match, things may happen you don't expect."

"But I would have won!" Harald protested, nostrils flaring, eyes narrowed. "I would have!"

"No, Harald." George firmly stated, cocking his head.

"It's his fault!" Harald shouted, pointing at Hans with an accusatory finger. "If he hadn't-"

"Don't blame him, Harald. You were simply a little careless."

George walked over to fetch his son's sword for him, and Hans, feeling sorry for making Harald mad, although he pretty much always seemed mad, tried to walk over to apologize. Harald snatched the opportunity to snarl at his younger brother. "It's all your fault. Everything is your fault."

"Harald!" George boomed, causing his son to whirl around and face him. "That's enough!"

His son didn't flinch, but faced him, and George realized, with a sudden plunge of shock, his son was staring him down as if he were an enemy, no more than a stranger. "This behavior is not only unacceptable as a prince, but it is unacceptable as my son." He could have sworn Harald's eyes shifted further into anger, but it may have been a trick of the light. "Recite."

His voice left no room for negotiation. Harald, nonetheless, crossed his arms and bowed his head to avoid his father's gaze. "That old thing?"

"That old thing has been in our family for generations, and reminds us who we are. Recite."

Harald grunted, and in a small, quick voice, rattled off the Westergard creed.

"A prince forgets the trespasses against him, no matter how terrible. He sacrifices for others, even to the expense of his soul, he forgives until he forfeits of breath. He is strong, he is compassionate, and the sum of these things makes him complete, a prince I am and a prince I will be."

"It would behoove you to act it," George remarked, sighing. "Son… We need to have a talk." Harald looked at him, but his expression was nonplussed. "I know you have been planning on taking on the responsibilities of becoming my Captain of the guard someday. But…" George hesitated, but managed to speak his mind. "Your behavior over the past few years has only become worse. You lose your temper constantly, you hardly ever regard most of your siblings, and when you do, it's typically to bully the younger ones."

Harald's glare instantly shifted to Hans, but his father rapped his sword against the marble floor with such a clang his son's attention quickly jerked back to him.

"I do not know why you are so angry, Harald. But years of seeing other countries fall and wars take place has taught me this: anger leads to hate, and hate to destruction. With the anger I see in you now, I cannot recommend you continue to train to be the Captain of my guard. Your attitude will only breed contempt and I'm afraid it will eventually lead to catastrophe for all of us. I'm sorry. But we will find a place for you, that I assure you."

Harald's eyes had never been more fixed on his father, nor had they ever looked more horrified. His chest began to expand and collapse rapidly from panting. "No! No, no, please! Father, please! I promise I won't be angry anymore! I promise! You can't do this, you can't!"

"No one can promise that, Harald." George calmly replied, walking over to the display where he could replace their swords as the lesson had clearly ended.

Harald dogged after his long strides, begging wildly with hands clasped together, his eyes growing moist, voice cracking. "But I can! I won't be angry anymore! I won't! Whenever I'm angry I-I'll conceal it! I won't feel it! I promise I won't even let it show!"

George, as much as he wanted to stand firm in his decisions, wavered at the hollow rasp behind his son's pleading. He turned, facing Harald after replacing the second sword in its resting place. "Son… I don't think…"

"I'm sorry!" Harald blurted, whipping his head around to face Hans. Hans blinked from the doorway, completely content to be a fly on the wall and suddenly horrified to be noticed. It took both the king and the youngest prince a moment before they realized Harald was not attempting to appeal to his father, but rather apologizing to his brother. George, needless to say, tried to summon words, but the very idea of Harald apologizing was so absurd, he was floored with the sheer sincerity of it. Harald locked gazes with Hans, and an escaped tear left a streak down his cheek as he repeated his sentiment, in just above a whisper.

George could only stand in bewilderment as his son who only days before had stood on the polar opposite of the family portrait now leaned against his leg to stifle his quiet sobs. Slowly, savoring the moment's delicacy, George bent down, swept his arm around his son and pulled him close into an enveloping hug. When Harald's body stopped shaking and his quiet sobs dissipated into simple sniffs, George released him from his hug. "This is really that important to you?"

Harald wiped at his red, irritated eyes and stood tall, nodding once, but not speaking.

George stared at his son with deep consideration. "Anger is a natural emotion, son. Everyone feels it at one time or another. There is power in it, but also great danger. You must learn to control it. Do you think you can?"

Harald nodded again, his gaze set ahead with a steely sharpness that could only be described as frightening.

"I need to hear you, son. Tell me you can control it. Tell me you can keep it to yourself. Can you do this?"

Harald's jaw tightened, and he bobbed his head. "Yes, your highness."

George's blood ran cold at hearing his son refer to him so distantly, and he had no inkling he would be referred to as such for many years to come. "Alright, son. Come. We must inform the Captain you'll be observing him, starting tomorrow, three days a week to start." George turned and walked towards the doors, emotions battling within him for dominance.

Hans tried not to be in the way, ducking out from beneath his father's footsteps. He stared after his father, and the groan of the door snapped him back into his senses as he faced Harald closing both sides. Hans turned, but his father was already gone beyond the corner of the hallway, and he prepared himself for the expected confrontation with his brother, biting the inside of his lip. Harald did not explode into a furry of punches or shoves as Hans expected, but instead he simply stared at his youngest brother. His lips opened, and though Hans had a premonition of the curse words he might hear intermingled with his name, nothing came out. Instead, Harald's eyes spoke, but as much as Hans tried to decipher the silent words, he couldn't. He had no idea as he ran away it wouldn't be until years later he would not only hear and interpret the words behind his brother's eyes, and understand it as agony.

#

After reliving the vivid memory, Hans was baffled to see his brother lose his sword to a blind girl, but completely bewildered to see his subservient reaction afterward. Harald removed his blindfold, picked up his sword, and bowed to her. "An excellent match, Miss Grantham. Thank you for agreeing to the spar."

"My pleasure," she replied in a small voice.

"Your majesties," Harald continued, walking up to Hans and Elsa and sweeping an arm in gesture to Lily, "as you can see quite clearly, Miss Grantham is gifted in skills far beyond some of the soldiers I've seen so far here in Arendelle. My request is simply this: allow her the time and the access to the training yard to improve her natural gift."

A snort of derisive displeasure came from the soldiers in the back, and Hans frowned, unable to pinpoint which of the two had been the source. Clearing his throat, he replied to his brother. "Your request seems incredibly reasonable, and judging by the match we've just seen, she has indeed a good deal of talent."

"Why do you ask our permission for this?" Elsa asked, curious. "You mentioned earlier you found her in the training yard."

"Your majesty, forgive me for saying so, but I believe Alrik is unjustly biased against her." Harald stated, looking back towards Lily, her head dropping a little as if instinctually knowing eyes had turned towards her. "He believes she is not safe among the soldiers as they train. He is of the opinion her condition would endanger her."

"And you believe otherwise?" Hans questioned, a connection forming in the back of his mind. His brother had never shown so much interest in a soldier before, much less a woman. A smile tugged at his lips. He dared not assume Harald capable of such attraction, but then, Anna had mentioned something about a date last night. He began to wonder if this woman could be the missing connection.

"I do." Harald straightened his posture. "I would personally assume responsibility to ensure her safety and assign someone to oversee her training to help improve her skills."

"With her under your watchful eye, I doubt any harm could come to her," Elsa remarked, facing Hans, the blue in her eyes shining. "What do you think?"

"If this is what you want, Harald, then I see no reason to deny you," Hans agreed, still analyzing him, but his brother gave nothing away, his expressions solitary as a statue.

"It is not about what I want." Harald stated firmly, looking back towards Lily.

"I see," Elsa spoke gently, smiling in an all-knowing way that reminded Hans of his mother. "Then consider your request granted."

"But Alrik-" All eyes turned on Lily, whose mouth snapped shut as if she knew she'd spoken out of turn. She dropped her gaze and bowed her head submissively.

"If Alrik has a grievance to bring to us concerning our decision, he can come to us." Hans' voice filled the throne room, serious as the slam of a door. "It's done."

Harald bowed before them respectfully, facing the soldiers in the back of the room. "You will kindly see Miss Grantham back to the village." One of the two soldiers grumbled something under his breath, and Harald's gaze snapped to lock with his. "Do either of you have a problem with that order?"

"No." The men begrudgingly approached Lily and offered her an arm each.

"After you finish escorting her back to her home, you will return to the training yard for some extra practice. Being cooped up in the throne room all day makes for a poor soldier. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," they both responded, one of them glancing at the other with a thinly veiled sneer. The other heaved a sigh through his nose and took Lily by the arm. "If you'll come with us… Miss."

Lily turned back at the great throne room doors. "Harald?"

"Yes?" Harald replied, neck subtly craning towards her.

"Will you visit my house tonight? I have something to ask you. A-about the training," she stammered.

Hans leaned forward to get a better look at his brother and noted his skin flush with a touch of color. Harald nodded once. "I will. We can settle on further dates then." The soldiers led Lily from the room before she could say more. Elsa, who had been watching everything in silence, spoke softly to lift the heavy blanket of silence from the room.

"She likes you."

Harald turned to look at her, but his expression was nonplussed. "I doubt that. I've been told I'm not very likable."

"Nevertheless. I've seen that look when Anna is with Kristoff. Her smile made her glow with happiness." Elsa gracefully rose and pattered down the staircase to his side. "The question is not a matter of whether she feels for you. The question is… how do you feel about her?"

Harald's words, his very expressions were calculated, careful, as mechanical as his sword-fighting. His face remained stiff, apathetic. "I regard your opinion highly, your majesty. But in this instance, you are wrong. How I feel about her does not matter."

"But last night-" Hans started.

His temper flared as Harald turned and locked eyes with his brother. "Make no mistake, Hans, I am not here to fraternize with a female, no matter what her ambitions may be. I am here to investigate an act of treason against the king, against my kin. And I will not tolerate a distraction keeping me from protecting them as is my duty!" As if his sudden burst had stunned him, Harald recoiled from Elsa. "I apologize, your majesties. I didn't mean… I lost control of myself, forgot my place."

Hans stood up and walked down the staircase to meet his brother. "I think I understand. Don't apologize. You've nothing to be sorry for, truly."

Harald turned away from his brother, eyebrows furrowing, forming familiar stress creases among his forehead like cracks in a sheet of thin ice. "No, Hans, you don't understand. You can't." He kneaded at his temples with two fingers and let his hands drop. "I've been of little use to you in the past weeks. The trail has long since gone cold. I've questioned soldier after soldier after solder and none has any information for me. I think… the time is nearing for me to return home, where they need me."

"No… not yet. I just need you here a little longer," Hans protested, grabbing his brother's shoulder and turning him about. "I… want you here a little longer."

Harald's expression softened a little, and he clapped Hans on the shoulder in return. "Want me you may, but regardless, I cannot stay. Your people are growing to accept you, or, at the least, tolerate you. That was our goal. Acceptance will follow soon after, then trust, and love not long after that. I will take a few days to prepare a ship, with your permission, and return home. I believe the threat has passed and you are safe here."

"And if I don't grant the permission?" Hans replied, gripped in the iron throng of another goodbye.

"Then I will have a very long swim ahead of me," Harald chuckled, a gruff, but warming sound.

"Of course you have our permission," Elsa stated, taking Hans' arm in the crook of her own, slipping her hand down and twining her fingers among his. "I could attempt to contact your brother Heinrik should you wish to be in familial company on your way home."

"I would rather swim," Harald replied in a deadpan tone.

Elsa laughed and Hans couldn't help but smile. "We will begin preparations for you immediately. The ship should be ready within two days with an ample crew under your command."

"My deepest thanks to you both," Harald replied with a sweeping bow. "And don't let yourself feel down, Hans. You and I never got along much. You should be happy to be ridding yourself of me. But in the rare case that you find yourself missing me, just remember, you're always welcome home." He leaned in a little, putting a hand to one side of his mouth, "It's the good thing about being king. You get to do whatever you want." Nodding and tipping his head, Harald turned and walked out of the room, leaving Hans trying to stifle a laugh.

#

Harald's mind was awash with a mix of thoughts as he walked through the training yard. He was thankful his plan for Lily had turned out so fruitful for her, but he knew how he felt, and deny it as he may, he was growing very fond of her. This new emotion, albeit enjoyable, was sharply conflicted by the feeling of regret. He had not discovered the source of the arson in the stables, and he had pledged otherwise to his brother. He was so deeply involved in balancing these thoughts, he did not notice Alrik until he'd nearly run into the man.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Alrik. I was distracted," he muttered, stepping over a discarded sword near the outdoors armory.

Alrik firmly planted his hand on Harald's shoulder and guided him to a secluded corner of the storage shed. "Quite alright. Allow me a moment. I have something to discuss with you." Turning and popping out into the open for a second, he faced his men and yelled, "That's enough for today! If you've been assigned a post, you will await there for further instructions, the rest of you are dismissed!" The men scattered, leaving the yard deserted, and Alrik returned to Harald. "I hear you're leaving us soon, and without finding the culprit of the arson."

"Word travels exceptionally fast," Harald murmured, his eyes lined in suspicion.

Pacing around him and replacing various training weapons where they belonged, Alrik clucked his tongue. "So it is true, then… how unfortunate a case for your pride as a soldier, a captain, no less."

"I'm sure in time your heart will heal from my absence," Harald responded, watching him carefully.

"You have no idea how much I want to hurt you right now." He slammed a spear down on its hanging rods, the clang resounding in the training yard.

"You'd be surprised." Harald stated flatly, placing himself next to a stockpile of shields. "You aren't the first to dislike me, and you won't be the last."

Alrik bit his lip until he tasted blood, hissing with the withheld venom of a poisonous snake. "Dislike? You deliberately went behind my back and disobeyed my orders. You went to the queen of all people, told her that I was unjustly unbiased because I refuse to allow a blind girl to get hurt doing something foolish that she could never do! I don't dislike you. I can hardly stand to look at you."

"I should have known you'd get a report from someone." Harald sank down slowly, fingertips grazing the edge of the first shield he came into contact with, caving into the instinct which told him he needed it. "I spoke only what I believe to be the truth, Alrik."

Alrik snorted, a mixture of sweat and spittle covering the wall as he scoffed. "The truth… let's talk about the truth. You came here to find the culprit of a fire, and failed. You came here saying you would consider us equals, that you wouldn't rob me of my position when you wanted to become my eyes where I don't see. Well…" he laughed to himself, his grip waning on a dagger as he began to wave it wildly around while he shouted. "You succeeded in that, didn't you? I've seen the way you react around her. Do you think she'd suddenly cave in to you because you offer her some kind of false hope? What right do you have to put her in danger? None!"

As he whipped around unexpectedly, the dagger flew from his hand, slick with sweat, and whistled as it sliced through the air towards Harald, who could only raise his arms in defense.

-THUNK-

Slowly, Harald lowered the wooden shield, the dagger sticking from the front like a shiny pin. He pried it from the shield and tossed it aside into the dirt with a resulting puff of dust, facing Alrik, who simply stood with wide eyes, hands trembling. He extended his empty palms to Harald, shimmering in sweat. "I… I didn't mean it. You know that… it slipped… I didn't mean…"

Harald rushed at Alrik with the shield in front of him, pinning the man against the rocky wall and pushing until he could hear the stones scratching holes in the man's clothing. "You want to know the truth, Alrik? The truth is you're a coward," he ground out between his teeth.

"I-"

"You're a coward!" Harald shouted, leveraging more of his weight against Alrik until he grunted in pain. "She has a right to follow her dreams as much as any other woman, any other man! The truth is you're scared! You're scared of her getting hurt because you love her, but if you really loved her you would want her to try!"

Alrik gasped for a breath of air as Harald backed off of him. "Then…" he rasped, straightening, "you love her, too."

Harald curled his lip at Alrik, much of his little respect gone for the man. "I might have grown to, yes. But as you've already so graciously pointed out earlier, I'm taking my leave and returning to my homeland." He headed towards the entrance, dropping the shield by the doorway and looking over his shoulder. "Keep it well in mind; I'll be looking in with Hans from time to time and asking about Lily's progress."

"I see." Alrik bent to pick up the discarded shield, studying the notch in the wood where the dagger had hit. "I'll try to make some time for her to learn. But I don't expect she will become a soldier solely based on your faith in her."

"No, I don't expect she will. But you're right about one thing; you will make time." The feeling of regret began to tug at his heartstrings again, and he left Alrik behind, wondering what he was going to tell Lily.

#

He must have waited in front of the door for several minutes, but the time carried on painfully slow, so the minutes blended away into ages. The raps of his knocking on the door sounded like mournful hammering of nails into coffins as he knocked. Lily opened the front door and for a moment, he could only stare at her, soaking every part of her in and trying to imprint her into the recesses of his deepest memories.

"Are you going to come in?" Lily asked, trying to stifle a giggle.

"Thank you, but… would you… like to take a walk with me instead? It's a comfortable night." Harald asked, taking a step down from her stoop.

"Of course, that sounds lovely." She reached beside the front door and took hold of her walking stick, a long piece of smooth wood hip high and tapped to see where the stoop dropped in front of her. She walked with confidence, sparingly using the rod to explore beyond her, stopping at the edge of the cobblestone street and turning back to look at him. "Aren't you coming?"

"Yes." Harald strode up to accompany her, and settling on a direction away from the castle, towards the quieter part of the outskirts of town, the two talked. Their talks were pleasant at first, but shallow, mostly consisting of compliments on Lily's swordfighting and her past adventures in Arendelle.

"I wanted to thank you," Lily mentioned, as they passed under one of the last lit streetlamps lining the streets.

"For?" Harald questioned, though he guessed what she meant by it.

"For showing them that I can fight. For… believing in me," she murmured under her breath.

"You're welcome." Harald felt loathe to be standing with her, staring at the small, funny smile on her face. The sooner he got it over with, the better. "I spoke to Alrik about it."

"Oh no," Lily heaved a sigh. Surprising Harald, she reached out and touched his arm, sliding her hand up to his bicep and resting it there. "What did he say?"

Harald shrugged, but her hand did not move. "He said the typical things he always says."

"He was angry," she stated, her head hung low.

"He was Alrik," Harald replied, testing her by shrugging again. Still her hand did not budge. "Alrik is always like that. But I made him promise he will continue your training."

"Alrik? Why him? I thought you were going to continue it." By the lilt of her voice, Harald could tell she was both confused and hurt.

"I can't continue your training, Lily. I'm going home. In two days, my ship will be ready for departure."

"Oh." Her hand slipped away from his arm, and with it, the comfort of her touch. It fixed itself to her guiding pole, and she forced a small, nervous laugh. "I guess I couldn't expect you to stay forever, could I?"

"I'm sorry, Lily," Harald began, "but I have to go back."

"I understand. It's your home, and your family. I just…" There was a poignant pause as if she truly wanted to say more, but changed her mind at the last moment. "Will you do me a favor before tonight ends?"

"What favor is that?" he asked.

"Let me look at you." Before he could question it, she continued, "what I mean is, let me touch you. I know it sounds terribly awkward, but it's the only way I can see what people look like, forming an image in my head. I would like to know what you look like before you're gone and I lose the chance… please."

Her humble request was so felicitous; Harald could not find it in himself to deny her. "Alright."

The smile that suddenly bloomed on her face could have put any streetlamp to shame. She hesitantly reached out with one hand, but her direction was off, and she passed by his face. He reached out and took her hand in his, guiding it to his cheek and letting go. He felt her quivering as her second hand made contact with his other cheek. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, but he made no move to disturb her touch.

"You're rough," she commented as her fingertips brushed over his stubble, coming to his mustache. Her smile grew brighter. "Except here. Very noble."

He couldn't help the smile from spreading on his own face. He couldn't remember feeling this way around anyone before, not among the waves of women he'd entertained at his parent's parties.

"There now… that's what I want to see." Her fingers traced the corners of his lips where they creased. Her hands slid around to his ears, and then up the sides of his face until they met his forehead. Her smile dipped into an expression of confusion and uncertainty. "Here… you have so many worry lines…" Her delicate fingers traced the ridges of where the skin sunk. "What happened to you?"

Harald took one of her hands between his own two hands and cupped it. "Nothing."

"So stern… so quick to shut down… tell me in your own words… what do you look like?" She threaded her fingers through his hair and let her hand rest on his shoulder.

Harald hesitated. He'd never described himself to anyone before, and he didn't quite know how to start. "I've always been told I look like my father. He, and I, by extension, have chestnut hair, and green eyes. We share similar angular features in our faces and bone structure."

"What do I look like?"

Harald was taken aback by this question. It was almost as bad as being interrogated. He had to fight for an answer he felt sufficient. "You… you look like… you. You have short brown hair, and grey eyes with just a hint of green in them."

"I must not be much in comparison with the other women you see in your family's court." Her eyes were drawn to look at the ground.

Harald stepped closer. "My dear Miss Grantham, whenever I look at you, there are no other women," he replied, bringing her hand up to his lips and brushing them against her skin.

Her cheeks bloomed into a furious red, and her smile wavered. "Why?" she rasped, withdrawing her hand suddenly. "Why did you have to do this to me?"

"What do you mean?" Harald questioned, bewildered. He hadn't said anything she could take the wrong way. "Do what?"

"This! Every second I spend with you, every time I hear you speak so kindly to me, and touch me so gently… it only makes me sadder."

"Why?" he asked, concerned.

"You stupid man… it's because I'm falling in love with you. And there's no use in that, because you're leaving in two days and I'll never see you again." Tears began to form in her eyes, making the grey in them shimmer.

"Lily… I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have stayed. I should have listened to my instincts and left when I couldn't find the culprit of that damned fire," Harald muttered, feeling miserable.

"W-what fire?" Lily questioned in a quivering voice.

"In the stables. Shortly after Hans' coronation, there was a fire started there with his horse still inside them. I assumed somebody wanted to send him a message, so I stayed to question the soldiers here. I never found out anything, but then I met you… and suddenly, I couldn't focus my attention there anymore." She turned away from him, and Harald released a despairing breath. "Lily, please. I know how you feel. I… I've felt things I didn't know how to feel since meeting you. I don't know how to react to it."

"It's not that…" she whispered in a hollow voice.

"Then what is it? What's wrong? Lily, talk to me." He took her by the shoulder and turned her to face him.

"I…" She gazed towards him, her body shaking, and spoke so quietly, he could hardly hear her. "I know who started the fire."

A/N: Call out to my readers! Anyone still there? What was your favorite scene in this chapter?