A/N: Things sometimes look a bit bleak, don't they? Brace yourselves, because there is a lot of emotion coming in the next few chapters. But perhaps not all bad.

Chapter Eleven

Letting It Go

In the time long before the sun rose, when night still cast its shadows through the long, clear windows of the castle, a single figure walked beside them. She let her pale fingers trail absently over the cold, unfeeling stone, falling to the transparent glass as she walked, hovering just above it. Stopping, she tapped a single fingernail on the pane, watching the blurry tendrils of ice spread like a sickness over the once clean windows until it devoured the square in its entirety. Her reflection turned from pale beauty with berry-colored lips into a shapeless mess. She breathed. It rose before her in a wisp of cloudy vapor and she apathetically watched it disappear.

She heard the shuddering gasps of shock as Hans stumbled into the room, grasping his arms around himself for warmth. He wore his magenta night robe tightly bound around him, the sash hugging his waist. "E-Elsa…" he stuttered, his teeth chattering, "w-what's g-going on? It's f-freezing in here."

She willed the freezing temperatures in the room to wane back into the realm of comfort, the candles flickering into life again and no longer struggling. "The cold never bothered me, anyway…" she murmured.

Hans approached her, a troubled look darkening his already dim features in the candlelight, noting the dull look in her eyes. "W-why are you awake?"

She had kept her first pregnancy a secret on purpose, because she wanted time to build her excitement before letting it bubble up and releasing the news. This time, Hans already knew the moment she was sure. He should know, she mused, watching his face flickering in and out of the dark, we've been trying again since. There was no use in hiding it. Her hands trembled as she undid the tassels of her night robe, parting the ocean of navy blue fabric to reveal her pale nightgown, the lower half spotted in a stark red color. "I lost the baby tonight."

Waves of shock rose and ebbed between them, and he moved to touch her. His arms held her, bringing her close to him as he untied his sash, enfolding her into the depths of his own large robe, but she did not respond to his touch. "Are you hurt?" She shook her head, and he was quiet for a moment, though even his silent presence was respite for her loneliness. "You're sure?"

She nodded once, waiting to feel something from his gestures. Sadness, anger, even guilt would have been welcomed, but the only feeling she could seem to express was emptiness, which was the worst of all. She leaned her cheek against the dyed rabbit fur outlining his robe. "I'm sure."

Hans rocked her gently back and forth in the quiet of the room, his hands clasping around her waist, his stubble scratching her cheek as he tilted his head into the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry… love, I'm sorry."

She knew his apologies were well-intended, but they couldn't offer any comfort tonight. She had questioned herself about the possibility of having another miscarriage during the pregnancy, and for a while, she thought she had prepared herself adequately. But as the last few months had passed, the worries eased. She had even stopped taking the vial of medicine to help her sleep.

The pains arose suddenly, inexplicably, and vehemently during the night. She could do nothing to stop it; not even the doctor had any answers but had only been able to ease her pain. Tomorrow, the kingdom would know of her second miscarriage and bring with it an onslaught of flowers, sympathy letters, and comforters. "We should write a letter to your parents… we don't need any gifts."

Hans felt his heart sink a little as he tightened his grip around his wife. They'd written not long ago with joy as they publicly announced the pregnancy, but to follow so soon with a letter bearing such ill news… and Elsa sounded so hollow. He felt bitterness simmer in his veins. Why was she being robbed of having a child for the second time in a row? "We will." He bent to kiss her cheek, feeling how icy her skin was against his lips, offering her what futile comfort he could. "You should see the doctor."

"I did," Elsa replied, unfolding herself from his arms and retying her robe tightly as if ashamed. "He… there was nothing he could do."

Hans knew the doctor was well-informed, and this news discouraged him. He found himself wondering if his family doctor, Helen, could have done anything to stop it. He walked to the window where he'd first seen Elsa, noting the frost melting on the panes. He placed his hand on it, feeling the cold seep into his skin again.

"Hans?" Elsa approached him tentatively, leaning against him like a child wanting comfort. "Don't leave me." He slipped his free arm around her, letting her nuzzle into his robe once more, silent as he listened to the steady ticking of a clock on the mantlepiece. She closed her eyes, shutting out the world apart from the presence of her husband.

They stood together for a few moments of quiet, until Elsa felt exhaustion beckoning her away from the world. She forced her eyelids to open, looking up to see Hans pensively staring out the window with a far-off reflective gaze. She tried to follow it, noting the graceful dance of the northern lights lighting up the night sky. "What are you thinking?" she murmured, framing his face with a slender hand and drawing it to look at her instead.

Hans took her hand in his and squeezed it affectionately. "I was thinking… didn't you tell me about a group of trolls loyal to your family… not far from the village outskirts?"

"Well… yes," Elsa admitted, "I haven't seen them since I was a child." Hans looked pensive as Elsa continued, "but Anna has. Apparently, they're sort of like family to Kristoff. Why?"

"They knew about your powers…" Hans trailed off, his eyes turning back to the outdoors. "Maybe they can help us find out more than the doctor here… maybe we can try." Concerned with her silence, he looked back to Elsa as the moonlight shone through the panes, brightening her eyes with precious hope. "Come on… we'll wake Anna."

#

"Anna… Anna, wake up. We need your help to find the trolls," Elsa whispered, gently shaking her sister by the shoulder. "Anna, please."

Anna rolled over, a mess of hair, a thin line of drool leaking from the corner of her mouth, murmuring in her sleep. "…the cook… help you find bowls…"

Elsa smiled and suppressed laughter as she shook her sister again, a little harder. "Not bowls, Anna… trolls. We need your help to find the trolls."

"Mm…hm?" Anna's eyes finally fluttered open, looking dully at Elsa as she yawned. "Trolls? Why?" She collapsed back onto her bed, nuzzling against her downy pillow and brushing away a stray hair from her lip. She groped blindly for her covers and pulled them over her head. "Can't we do it tomorrow?"

"Anna, the sky is awake," Elsa encouraged, pulling away the covers from her sister. "People always say the trolls are celebrating when the sky is awake. I really need your help."

Anna's eyes opened and she uttered a little sigh, wiping at the drool on her chin. "Alright…" she yawned, "let me get dressed and you can tell me what's going on."

#

Sitron obediently followed his master through the snow as the small party of four people climbed through the forest hills. Anna exchanged a few quiet words of comfort with her sister as she rode Sven, Kristoff walking beside her. Kristoff turned to look at Hans as the two girls spoke, striking up conversation himself, noting how tired Hans looked as they trudged through the snow. "I warned you already about my family, right? They can be a little overbearing at times."

Hans returned his look, scoffing lightly. "I have twelve older brothers, remember?"

"Oh… right," Kristoff half-smiled at him. "Sorry, I forgot. Only child here." He cleared his throat, walking in silence at first and then speaking quieter, under his breath. "They can't… work miracles, you know… I mean… they'll try, but I don't know how much they can do."

Hans looked reflectively back at Elsa as steam from the geysers floated away behind her, watching her wavering smile come and go as she spoke with her sister in hushed tones. The snow which had varied from ankle to knee length on the way to the trolls now gave way, melting into nothing as they grew closer. "I know. But even this might be enough for her, for now. If there's anything I can do to help her, I have to try. We've tried advice from the doctor here… but it may not be enough."

"I understand," Kristoff said, slowing Sven as they arrived in the center of a clearing, rock towering on either side of them, the air smelling strongly of lichen and moss. He approached a cluster of grey boulders in one corner and began talking as if he were already carrying on a conversation. "Hey, you're looking even trimmer than last time I saw you, been doing some extra rolling, I see." He threw out one arm and hugged a specific speckled rock. "And I see you've had some work done; I'm loving the patch of green you put on over your cracks, you don't look a day over 500."

Before his eyes, Hans saw the rock unfold, limbs appearing and a head popping out, the stone morphing into a living creature wearing a series of pink crystals as a necklace. Without hesitation, she took Kristoff's hands in her own, pulling him down to her level where she kissed each of his cheeks in quick succession. "Aren't you sweet for saying so, and for visiting! Kristoff's home, everyone!" Suddenly the clearing was rife with activity as rocks came to life and clung to Kristoff, the smaller ones pulling on his legs or jumping into his arms.

"Hi, guys!" Anna greeted as she jumped off Sven, rushing into the chaos with a grin.

"And he brought Anna with him!" The celebration kicked into high gear as the crowd cheered and swept her into their midst.

"Did you finally propose?" Bulda gasped, grabbing Kristoff by the pant leg and pushing him towards Anna, rolling over to join them and clasping her hands. "Oh, I've waited so long for this day!"

Kristoff tugged his hat down over his ears and sighed heavily. "No, I didn't propose! Look, you know I love to visit with you guys whenever I can, but today it isn't about me or Anna." He gestured to where Hans was helping Elsa off Sitron and trying his best not to drop her as he stared at the trolls. "It's about Elsa. She needs help. Is Grand Pabbie awake?"

"I am always awake on nights when the sky is so willing to speak," Grand Pabbie announced, the group of trolls parting before him as he walked up to Kristoff and Anna. He moved slower than the rest, obviously much higher in years, his body rife with cracks and aged spots of color among his face. He smiled, a comforting look as he reached upwards and took their hands. "It is always good to see you, Kristoff… and you, Princess." He looked beyond them, where Hans stood with Elsa beside him. "And I see we have still more visitors tonight. Your highnesses…" he graciously bowed his head, "welcome to our home. Come closer, I've yet to meet Arendelle's new king."

Hans obeyed, still shocked by the sudden appearance, perhaps a bit timid, but not afraid. Elsa needed him, and this knowledge gave him the bravery to face anything. He knelt in front of Pabbie to be closer to his level, Elsa bending comfortably beside him as her gown pooled about her and shimmered in the moonlight. Hans took her hand and spoke with slight hesitation. "Greetings… sir. I humbly come to ask your help."

Pabbie gestured for his hands and Hans gave them willingly. To the king's shock, he watched the troll leader bow before him, his voice gravely as he spoke. "You need not be formal with me, majesty. You may call me Pabbie. We have always remained loyal to Arendelle's line, and to those they choose by way of marriage. I sense by the time you chose to visit that you are troubled, and you say you need our help. Please, tell us what we may do for you."

"It's my wife." Hans took Elsa's cool hand in his own and held it out to Pabbie, keeping his voice low in discretion for her sake. "She's been with child twice now, and twice now we've lost it early. Is there anything you can advise?"

"Let me see…" Pabbie took Elsa's hands in his own and held them, looking into her eyes with kindness behind his own dark irises. "Before we go on, I must say I've been watching you, Elsa. You have learned much since we last met. The years have molded you into the queen Arendelle has needed. Your parents would be proud." His head tilted as he looked towards the flickering lights of the North above them for a few long, silent moments, as if interpreting them. "Your magic holds great power, Elsa… and you have had time to control it, time to condition your body and spirit against the cold." His gaze shifted to her eyes, and Elsa's heart dropped at the lack of optimism within it. "But an infant… one unused to the strong magic coursing through your blood… it may be too much for it to handle…"

"Are you saying…" Elsa's mind ran rampant, force feeding her horrible thoughts. I killed my own children… it's my fault… I can't stop it.

"You're not saying we'll never have children." Hans interrupted her silence, taking her hand and pulling her close with another.

"No," Pabbie said, shaking his head, "I cannot see what the future holds in such detail, only what the stars and lights reveal."

Elsa, desperate to quell the thoughts within her, took his hands, wiping at tears escaping her eyes. "Please, tell me something good will come of this. I have to know."

Pabbie turned his attention on the night canopy once again, studying the images harder, in longer silence. Elsa thought she saw flickers as the green and blue danced before her, and for a moment, she saw herself, and a child, but before her eyes the child disappeared in a flash of orange and red lights. Then a man appeared beside what she assumed to be the same child. The red seemed to overtake them both, but even when Elsa could almost hear the screaming, a brilliantly beautiful burst of purple swelled and the sky became blank. She looked to Pabbie for interpretation, her eyes still damp with tears. Pabbie himself appeared puzzled, retracing the patterns with his hands as if holding a silent conversation with the skies.

Elsa became impatient for answers to the cryptic colors, pushing him verbally. "Well? What is it? What did I just see?"

Pabbie held a hand up as a respectful request for quiet, and Elsa felt Hans grip her shoulders in a gentle reassurance. As the troll elder finished retracing the invisible patterns, he turned back to the snow queen. "I have seen much, and it is difficult to decipher. I see great joy in the future, but also great sorrow." He gestured to the skies and squinted, studying the waning patterns. "I have seen danger for Arendelle, but I have also seen… a child."

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat and choked away her breath for a moment. "Is it mine? Is it safe? Please…"

"I do not know." Pabbie took her hand and patted it, shaking his head with a resolved sigh. "The skies will say no more. They reveal only what they choose. But it is safe to say that this child will hold great meaning for you, be closely tied to Arendelle's future, and many other futures as well."

It was enough to make Elsa scream for joy as her head tumbled with thoughts. It came out as a squeak of hope stifled between her fingers, her eyes watering with thanks. It's mine. It must be mine. We will have a baby. I'll watch it grow, and I'll leave my door open whenever I'm needed… I'll have someone to love. The trolls had never been wrong before, only cryptic. They had spoken true about her powers, about fear being her enemy. Surely tonight was the same. It was a sign. "Thank you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and leaning against the strands of moss clinging to his shoulder, letting her tears fall to spatter the stone. "Thank you so much."

Hans bowed his head before the elder troll, pondering all that had been said and replaying the dance of the lights in his head. They carried on a few last strands of conversation, their business done. It was late. He could see the night had worn on Elsa by dark circles under her eyes and strands of her hair out of place. As they returned to the castle, he also saw her smile again, going so far as to talk in hushed tones and the occasional giggle with her sister. It eased his worry for her and gave him a feeling of accomplishment, of provision for his wife. He wanted to preserve that feeling for her, and so when they returned to their chambers, he went to the desk to pen a letter. Dearest Mother and Father…

"What are you doing?" Elsa asked him, her tone sleepy as she draped herself over his shoulder. The events of the night had clearly drained her of energy.

"Sending a message to mother and father," Hans replied, stroking her hand with a thumb absently. "I think we should go for a visit. The weather will be warmer there and we can use the rest and recovery after recent events."

"You're trying to keep me from isolation when the kingdom finds out what happened tonight…" Elsa murmured, nuzzling against his neck affectionately. "I love you for that." She straightened and kneaded his shoulders as the feather quill bobbed, the point scrawling lovely cursive across the parchment, Elsa following the words over his shoulder. Today I write with the strains of a heavy heart, as my dearest wife Elsa has lost our second child. I pray her suffering be short, though I am sure our recovery will be long. She placed a hand on her empty womb, her fingers scratching the silky fabric of her fresh nightgown. "I am sad, Hans… sad that our first two babies will never get the chance to grow… that I will never be able to hold them and stop their crying… but the trolls said there was a child in our future… and that gives me hope."

I have given some thought as to how I should help her recovery along, and I believe a visit to the Southern Isles will prove fruitful at this time. The matters of court during our absence should be well in hand with our advisors and, of course, Princess Anna. We will be leaving within the week once affairs are in order, and will plan to see you within the span of the next few weeks. I look forward to catching up with everyone once we arrive and recuperating in the peaceful land of the Isles. Your Son, Hans- King of Arendelle.

Hans started to seal the envelope, but Elsa took his hand as he reached for some wax to seal it with, pulling lightly. "Come to bed… I don't want to sleep alone. Send it tomorrow."

Hans, too exhausted to argue, left the envelope on his dresser and let his wife lead him to bed. He fell asleep quickly, his arm tucked around his wife and his head filled with thoughts of what had unfolded that night.

#

Though many where sleeping peacefully that night, there were also those who were awake. "Don't let the fire go out," Lukas murmured from his chair in the corner of the inn room, dark shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep, his hair disheveled.

Albrekt only grunted a reply, taking solace in the fact that Lukas, for the moment, no longer acted the cocky upstart he usually did. The older man leaned over the crackling flames, stoking them back to life. They had both remained awake for the past few hours beyond midnight, though neither had spoken much. In fact, he still didn't know much about Lukas, beyond the facts. He knew Lukas was a prince, but only in namesake. His mother had remarried into Allorin's line, but his stepsister was instantly jealous of his looks in competition to her beauty and did everything she could to make his life miserable. Albrekt suspected he had always been ill-tempered on some level, but being introduced into a family with a person like Orion, it was no wonder his temperament should worsen.

"Warmer," Lukas hoarsely murmured, getting up and going to the cupboard in the room, swinging it open. Two empty bottles toppled and dropped from the shelves, rolling away. He reached higher, fetching a half-full bottle of wine from the cupboard and taking as swig.

Albrekt sighed under his breath as he took another log and added it to the fire. It was obvious Lukas had a weakness for wine, yet enjoyed the false power it gave. "It's getting hot in here."

"Good." Lukas collapsed back into the chair and attempted to sweep back his hair. "He likes it that way."

"Are you sure he'll come?" Albrekt asked, unbuttoning the first few buttons on his shirt to allow some air to circulate, backing away from the fireplace.

"I'm sure." Lukas went back to brooding, his forehead glistening in beads of sweat, his black hair sticking to it in strands despite his best grooming attempts.

Albrekt quietly retreated to his own corner opposite Lukas and reached beneath his shirt, removing several worn pieces of parchment, yellowed from age. Guilt wracked him as he thought back on his sneaking around the guards in the castle in order to obtain them. He was not a thief. But that son of the king's, Harald, he'd certainly treated him like one. He'd grown up since Albrekt remembered. They all had. It might be an issue if Lukas planned to use brute force to take the kingdom. The guilt sank in deeper as his thumb rubbed the faded seal of the Southern Isles. Don't think of it as stealing. Think of it as regaining what should be yours. He unfolded the parchment and his eyes scanned through as he skimmed the pages. There was something grand about having a secret all your own. He felt his lips curve into a smile and traced the words slower with his eyes, savoring them, a finger absently twirling one of the curls in his hair.

"What's that?" Lukas interrupted in a scratchy voice, getting up from his chair.

"Nothing." He tucked away the parchment back into his shirt and rebuttoned. He would read them in more detail later, when he had a room to himself. He trusted Lukas as much as he trusted a snake not to bite.

"Is it something you found when were snooping around the castle? You should have been asking more questions. Instead you were caught, all for what, a few stupid pieces of paper. They watched you like hunter's hawks for the rest of the night and you only found out their numbers. I hope it's worth it," Lukas scoffed, finishing off what was left of the wine bottle. "At least I made the most of the night."

"I could tell," Albrekt remarked, looking down on Lukas as he was the taller of the two, "you and that blonde girl hanging on your every word, I would assume."

"Girls," Lukas corrected with a wry smile that reminded Albrekt of a cat who had just caught a mouse, "always make friends with the ones who have a following. If they'll follow her, they'll follow you, too. No matter what the end may be."

"Not the blind one, I saw," Albrekt commented, knowingly pushing Lukas' buttons as he pretended to make casual conversation while trying not to be disgusted.

Lukas flippantly turned his head towards the dirty window in the room, looking uninterested. "What do I care? She's blind. She won't be following anyone anywhere."

"And the one you danced with at first?" Albrekt continued, frowning.

"Pregnant. Once they become pregnant, they turn from being easy to handle to a hassle," he went on, giving Albrekt a lazy look.

"Married." Albrekt pressed, clearly disapproving of Lukas. It didn't seem to phase him, rolling off him like rain off a roof.

"As if that matters," Lukas muttered in a wine-soaked breath, nursing the empty bottle as if hoping he could coax a few more sips from it. "You should know that among us, things like marriage are of little concern."

Albrekt frowned deeply at him, but saw how little effect his silent scold had and sighed in defeat. "Haven't you any pride?"

Before Lukas could dredge up an answer, the door to their inn opened and a man strode in. He removed his coat, fur in nature, and hung it tenderly over the chair Lukas had been occupying as the prince staggered to his feet and respectfully moved away. Albrekt had never seen the man before, but he'd heard Lukas describe him many times, and he watched as the stranger surveyed the room.

He was younger than Albrekt, probably closer to Lukas' age. The most incredible thing about him was that Albrekt could not stop staring at him. He could see why Lukas had so quickly become submissive. He was proud of his good looks. But whereas some men like Lukas were handsome, this man possessed an otherworldly beauty. His hair seemed to morph in the light as he moved, falling just below his shoulders, subtly shifting colors from brighter red to coppery fire as he walked. His lips were feminine in nature, soft and plump. Long black lashes graced his eyes, a hazel flecked with green. His facial structure, long and thin, was accented by his hair framing his face. Albrekt could see Lukas, now more a pigeon in the presence of a peacock, shying away and knew he would have to speak first. "Magnus?"

The man turned his gaze to him and smiled, sending a chill through Albrekt even in the oven of a room. "Yes, I'm Magnus. You must be Albrekt. I've heard so much about you." He faced the cowering Lukas and the smile widened. "And of course, Lukas. My, look at you." His gaze seemed to gesture to the floor where the empty bottles had settled, kicking one a little. "You are thirsty. Are you hungry as well?"

Lukas shook his head, staring at the floor.

"No?" Magnus stalked over to the fireplace, basking in the light it cast over the room. "What a pleasant fire you've made. Did you do this for me?" Lukas nodded, again silent. Magnus let his smile linger and seated himself in a chair by the fire, face flickering in and out of the light. "My little Lukas, so thoughtful of others, so giving. Did you enjoy your visit to the Isles?"

Lukas nodded, finally speaking, his voice submissive. "Yes, thank you."

"How did you obtain the invitations for us, by the by?" Albrekt asked, receiving a scathing look from Lukas for interrupting.

"I have my ways," Magnus replied calmly, his voice warm like melting butter. "Tell me about your visit."

"Their castle is old," Lukas started, regaining some of his snide attitude as he got to his feet, eyes never leaving Magnus. "It's been in the family for generations."

"It is reinforced," Albrekt murmured. "Being old does not make one weak."

Lukas uttered a rough sigh. "Reinforced, then. The numbers, Albrekt. Tell him the numbers."

"One son I asked gave a number of one thousand when I asked about soldiers," Albrekt said, though it didn't seem to get a reaction from Magnus. "Though I don't know whether it is a true one or exaggerated."

"And the party?" Both men were quiet, neither having expected to be asked about this aspect.

"What of it?" Albrekt questioned.

Magnus clucked his tongue lightly, watching the fire crackle and pop nearby. "It seemed of such importance to Lukas. Tell me more of your moment in the spotlight. And Albrekt, I'm told you had a history of sorts with the Isles. Surely you must have more to say."

"Nothing unusual…" Albrekt refused to tell this stranger what the visit had really meant to him. He was always a private man, but he was more loathe to trust someone who caused his insides to tighten and constrict with even a slight word.

"I had a grand time toying with their Captain of the guard," Lukas was quick to interrupt Albrekt in turn. "I can't wait to see his face when he loses more than just the use of his arm."

"I'm glad to hear you enjoyed yourself. Now we only have one small errand to perform, and you have my word, you'll each receive my assistance in your own means," Magnus said, the firelight casting strange shadows on the walls.

"What errand?" Albrekt asked, undoing the top button on his shirt, followed by the second. He could feel the parchment underneath sticking to his sweat, and wiped at his forehead with his arm. The air around him began to feel thick, as if he were forced to breathe through only the corner of his mouth. He fanned inside his shirt with one hand a few times.

Magnus stood from his chair and walked to the door with a stroll, as if he hadn't a care in the world. "We're taking a trip to Arendelle. It seems there's an item of some importance there that I must acquire with all speed, if we hope to make your wishes a reality."

"What is it?" Albrekt asked.

Magnus turned, smiling as he approached him, and leaned against Albrekt's shoulder, his voice dropping into a sultry, soft whisper. "I don't believe you need to worry about that right now. I'll tell you when we get there." Albrekt sniffed, grimacing as a scent of something burning vaguely wafted into his nose. Magnus patted his shoulder once and let his hand slip off, opening the door. "I'll rent a boat for us and meet you at the harbor at sunrise. Oh…" He paused in the doorway and glanced back. "And I'll have them send up some food. I want you both at your best." Then, he vanished, and as suddenly as he left, the fire in the fireplace blew out.

Albrekt turned to look at Lukas. "Lukas… I don't like it… maybe we shouldn't…"

Lukas shot to his feet and rushed over to Albrekt, grabbing him by his shirt collar and shoving him against the wall. "Don't you dare suggest anything like that," he hissed, "we started this and we're going to finish it. I don't care if it takes years, I will prove to my family that I'm worth something! And I'm not going to let you or anyone else get in my way. Do you understand that?"

Albrekt swallowed, grit his teeth, and pushed Lukas back, stronger, making the young man stumble. "Don't. Touch me," he spat with a growl. He stalked over to the one bed in the room and sat on the edge, removing his shoes. "Get some sleep. We've got a long way to Arendelle." Once Lukas had gone about his own business once more trying to make a chair comfortable, Albrekt stole a glance at the parchment under his shirt, surprised and stunned to see the edges had burnt. He had felt hot, but not that hot. He safely tucked it back next to his heart and rebuttoned his shirt. He would go along with this Magnus' plan for now, but the future, as far as he was concerned, remained still unwritten.

So I guess this one took a bit longer, but hopefully you enjoy and things start to… heat up. Hah hah hah. Please R and R!