Penumbra

The royal procession of Queen Elsa and Princess Anna was winding its way through the misty countryside, still far from Arendelle and escorted by the best of the Royal Guard. In the ornate coach, the two sisters were idly chatting away the time, though they would occasionally peek out the windows to the front of the group, where a familiar figure could be found walking along, his long coat and ivory-handled dagger setting him apart from the rest of the guards. Usually their peeking would be followed by the sounds of giggling and soft talk, something that was irking the proud Captain Johann, who rode next to the coach in the most prodigious place for a guard. Looking from the coach and the glimpses of the sisters, he bristled at their attention upon his rival, and he showed his agitation in the way he handled his horse and muttered to himself.

"Leave it to a man not of Arendelle to plod along in the dirt."

The words silenced the coach for a moment, though soon the face of the Queen could be seen as she leaned on the sill of the window, looking out with a polite, but annoyed expression. "I find it admirable that Captain Yasha walks instead of riding a horse. None of the other men have such luxuries, do they, Johann?" she remarked, emphasizing the title. She knew how much it annoyed Johann to be at the same rank as him.

Johann mirrored her expression, polite yet annoyed. "With all due respect, Your Highness, a Captain of the Guard is not like the other men. His calling is higher. There are reasons he must be above them," he replied. "It is a position that must be earned and demands respect."

"Or be given to you by your daddy," came a muffled whisper within the coach and drew a sharp glance from Elsa. Anna was only encouraged by her response as she laughed under her breath.

Johann ignored the remark indignantly. "This man from Fria doesn't understand our ways. His appointment to Captain is nothing more than a farce. A political stunt," he snorted.

"I believe it was your father that sponsored him," Elsa countered.

"Your Highness need not to remind me of that," he replied, once more trying to figure out the design of the Regent's actions. Making the Queen's reputed lover, and his greatest rival, an officer in the Royal Guard was something he couldn't comprehend, especially as it complicated his own plans to pry her away from him. He would quietly admit that the displaced prince was a skilled warrior, and that he was very effective in the role he was given, but he couldn't accept him.

He certainly couldn't accept that Elsa might be in love with him.

"Johann, I think if you'd just give Yasha a chance, you'd find that…" she began, taking a softer tone with him that was suddenly interrupted when a loud crack startled them.

Johann's eyes instantly went to the arrow that was sticking out of the side of the carriage. The sight was so bizarre, it took him a moment to fully grasp its meaning. "Draw your weapons! We're under attack!" he managed to yell just as a mob came out of the forest, crawling out from under the carpet of leaves on the ground or swinging down from the trees. The Royal Guard instantly sprang into action against the assailants, meeting them with spears and swords while the bellowing cries of the attackers startled the horses that were drawing the royal carriage. The driver could barely keep them under control. Johann's own horse bucked as he tried to steady her, though as he drew his sword and tried to assess the danger another arrow whined past his head and made his heart jump in his throat.

"They're trying to take out the officers," he thought, and a passing concern was given to his rival.

As he didn't have the luxury of worrying and couldn't see the archers, he used the temperament of his horse as it reacted to the battle to make himself a difficult target, though his attention quickly drawn back to the coach as he heard the cries of his critical charges.

"Johann!" Elsa cried as one of the thugs had made a straight line to the coach and was clawing in through the window, trying to unlock the door in order to get to the treasures that were inside.

"They're after the Queen!" he yelled and tried to wheel his horse around.

Just as he got his steed under control, a bright flash of light burst from the inside of the coach and the man screamed as he reeled back, falling to the ground and clutching his arm. A frozen cast covered it all the way past his elbow and a frightened Elsa could be seen in the window. Johann quickly spurred his horse over to the man as he was trying to get up, then crushed his boot across his face and to send him back down to the mud.

With the immediate danger to the Queen gone, he looked over the ruckus that was battle, and the way his guards were handling the others. "Form your lines! Protect the Queen!" he roared, directing the battle with the point of his sword. Finally, he could see his rival at the front, barking orders as he drew back the men closer to the coach yet was constantly being challenged by assailants rushing in from the woods, though as Johann watched him fend them off with nothing more than his renowned black-bladed dagger, he couldn't help but be impressed by him.

He hated being impressed by him.

"Johann! The other door!" Elsa suddenly yelled and he looked back to the coach just in time to see the Queen roughly thrown back, her head hitting the sill of the window and her face twisting in pain.

Even with the foggy haze that seeped through her mind, she was coherent enough to hear the screams of her sister.

Anna was in the clutches of a large brute, being swiftly carried into the forest beyond, yelling loudly as she kicked and flailed. Johann stood up in his saddle, torn at how to react. If he went after her, he would leave the Queen unprotected, but he couldn't let the Princess of Arendelle be taken right from under his nose. There would be no end to his shame. Instead, he found a more palatable recourse, and quickly looked back to the front of the line.

"Yasha!" he bellowed, seeing the distant Captain turn. Having his attention, he quickly thrust his sword out after the disappearing shadow. "The Princess!"

Yasha's head twisted and followed the distant cries of Anna over the battle, then was instantly after them, sprinting into the crowded forest where a horse would have been too cumbersome to follow. Johann was satisfied at the course of action and continued to arrange his defense around the Queen, leaving the fate of the Princess up to his despised rival.

Being jostled and jarred on the shoulder of the thug, Anna found her experience being kidnapped far different than the last time. In her heart was real fear, and the man smelled of sweat. She knew that the guards were focused on protecting Elsa and that a part of her was happy for that, but she wondered if any of them were coming after her.

Being the Princess had to mean something to the Royal Guard.

After a few more moments of terror and feeling the man growing tired, she suddenly twisted wildly on his shoulder and threw him off balance, making him stumble and drop her, though he crashed the ground right next to her. Not wasting any time, she quickly tried to get to her feet and run, but a quick hand caught her dress and dragged her back down, making her kick and scream as the brute managed to climb on top of her and hold her down.

"Let me go!" she cried, smelling the foulness of his breath and feeling his sickening sweat dripping onto her.

He was out of breath, yet still so strong. She felt her panic rise as he leaned in closely to her, shivering in exhaustion and delight. "Looks like it wasn't a total loss. We're going to have real fun with you, pretty princess," he heaved, grinning foully as his eyes ran over her. The terrible intent in his breath made her cry out wildly and struggle with all of her might, but her thrashing did nothing more than make him angry. As it wasn't necessary to have her conscious for the plan, he decided to calm his wily prize.

"Nighty-night, Princess!" he roared and reared back his fist.

Just as he was about to strike her, another figure rushed in from the side and crushed into him, tearing him from on top of her. The two rolled across the muddy ground in a struggle for dominance and Anna sat up, terrified and relieved at the same time. "Yasha!" she cried, watching with bated breath as the two grappled roughly before her. The brute was larger and they were both exhausted from the chase, but the image of this man assaulting Anna drove Yasha into madness. Unlike his usual form of quick strikes and manipulation of his opponent's movements, this was nothing more than a brawl, fueled by adrenaline and emotion.

Fists crushed bones.

Muscles tore.

Blood mixed with blood, mud and sweat.

Unlike the dignified battle between swords and spears, this was just two beasts tearing into each other, with no higher level of thought to be spared.

After several more heated moments, the thug suddenly let out a horrific scream and thrashed wildly, throwing Yasha from him. He was clawing at his chest, and there was a dark sludge sticking to his hands. Yasha quickly staggered to his feet, his face and hair clumped with mud while he heaved in exhaustion and stood firmly between the thrashing beast and the frightened princess. A deep cut was bleeding over his eye and he felt his entire body burning and weak, though as he felt the slick of blood between his hand and the dagger within it, he knew he had gotten the better end of the exchange.

From her place, Anna could see how beaten he appeared and even though the thug was still moving, she jumped to her feet and started to go over to him, for both the concern of his safety and safety of his presence.

"Stay back, Anna!" he warned.

He didn't turn and she trembled at the power in his voice. Slowly looking down, she saw the dagger she knew so well, Xenocryst, dripping with a dark liquid that stretched from the black blade until it fell into the mud and muck on the forest floor. The reality of what had really just happened had yet to hit her, though she slowly looked back from the soaked blade, staring at his ominous posture and the way he was consumed by the moment.

Seeing him that way frightened her and she did as he commanded.

Yasha reached up with the back of his dirty hand and wiped his mouth, still panting in exhaustion as he then took a few shaky steps towards the writhing man. There was a hole in his chest and he groaned as he tried to cover it with fouled, muddy hands. Yasha felt little sympathy, though he was painfully aware that Anna was standing right behind him. Thinking how this man and his companions had laid their hands on both Anna and Elsa made him fill with burning rage, and he was almost certain his eyes would reveal the fiery secret he had inside.

The beautifully burning orange glow in his eyes was one more reason he wouldn't turn to face her.

As the thug's movements slowed, Yasha knelt beside him, his lips parting, while another pair of Arendelle's soldiers ran up to Anna, glad to see she was okay and quickly assessing her for injury. She placated them quickly and continued to watch Yasha. The soldiers were also happy to see that their Captain had been the one to stop this man from taking their Princess away.

"Captain?" one of the guards said and tried to approach.

Yasha stood abruptly and turned his head slightly, leaving his eyes hidden. "Is Elsa..." he panted, then smothered his affection under his rank.

"Is the Queen safe?"

"Yes, sir. The attackers fled after it was obvious they could not get to her. Captain Johann wanted to pursue them, but he felt it better to protect the Queen and find out what happened to Princess Anna," he reported.

The news made Yasha let out a sigh of relief and he nodded as he pushed his muddy hair back from his face. This moment of terror had passed without him losing anyone dear and he suddenly felt justified in his decision to join the Royal Guard. Being able to protect those he loved was more than fair in exchange for giving up the royal entitlement of a prince with no kingdom. At least now he could use the skills he learned in his exile to serve those he loved.

"Escort the Princess back to the carriage. Be wary of any that may still be around," he ordered, still facing the motionless brigand.

They hesitated a moment, but soon nodded and turned their attention on Anna. "Please come with us, Princess."

"Yasha," she objected, stepping towards her friend but then feeling the weight of his posture. In spite of the fact he had saved her, she felt she couldn't approach him.

"Go, Anna," Yasha said quietly, tucking his soiled blade safely out of her sight. "I will follow shortly."

Another objection was hot on her lips, but she felt exhausted as well and nodded, letting her eyes fall away from him. Without a word, she left with the guards, leaving him alone with the man on the ground. When he could no longer hear their footsteps, he groaned in pain, holding his hand to his side. He suspected he might have a broken rib or two. Fighting in a fit of rage never ended well for either man and he rebuked himself for acting so rashly, but the sight of the man hovering over Anna had set him off and he could barely believe he hadn't incinerated him on sight. Ironically, he mused that his new relationship with the FireHeart had some strange advantages, such as not being to draw upon his magic as easily as he had before. It certainly saved him from burning the man to a crisp right in front of her, yet as he felt the man's blood on his hands and listened to the silence of the man's heart, he wondered if it was really any better to have thrust his dagger through him, feeling the gross satisfaction at hearing him squeal and then watching as the life slowly slipped away from him.

As he stared down at the stained dagger in his hand, he still felt nothing but fury towards the men that had attacked them, and his heart continued to goad him into making sure that these fiends would never have the chance to touch those he loved again.

As Johann stood and gave his report to the baron, Yasha was standing with his eyes cast on the floor, something unusual for the normally proud man. Even after escorting the royal carriage back to Arendelle and taking great care to wash off the blood and change his uniform, he still felt soiled. Strangely, it wasn't that he had killed the man that bothered him, but rather that Anna had been so close when it happened, and that despite the way the blood and dirt ran off his body and down the dark drain, the anger he had felt and the terror in her voice wouldn't rinse away from him so easily.

No amount of clean linens and cold water could wash away the fact that he wasn't nearly as noble as he pretended to be, even to those that mattered most to him.

"And you still haven't found their hideout?" Baron Wingate asked, his plump face red with anger and embarrassment that both Queen Elsa and Princess Anna had been involved in the latest incident.

The Regent hadn't been kind in his admonishments.

"No, Baron," Johann said, hanging his head in shame.

"Three months of kidnapping young women from all over the countryside, and now these thugs dare to lay their hands on our Princess and injure the Queen? And yet we don't even know where they are, or why seem able to do as they please without being caught by our patrols! Even the two we captured know nothing," the Baron growled as he ruffled in anger, then looked to the other that had been in the force assigned to protect the Queen and Princess. As much as he had resisted the Regent's insistence that this foreigner be put into his Royal Guard as an officer, he had been shocked to learn that it was Yasha that had chased down the Princess's abductor on foot, saving her from whatever terrible designs they had in store for her. He also found it ironic that this was the same man that had once kidnapped the same Princess right from under his nose.

"Captain Yasha, did you learn anything from the man that tried to take Princess Anna?" he demanded.

The demand didn't break Yasha from his trance and his eyes stayed on the ground. He had been going over the last moments of the man's life, the way his breath wheezed from his lips and his body shook from the fear of the coming grasp of death's hand. With Anna trembling behind him, he didn't pause in consideration of mercy. All he heard was her terrified voice when the man had grabbed her and rush of adrenaline he felt as he sprinted after her. He saw the fear on her face as he pinned her to the ground. These images were burning hotly in his mind as he knelt over the dying man, feeling his soupy blood on his hand and seeing the ruby flesh in his chest where he had gouged his heart. The sweet, sickly smell didn't assuage his wrath, nor did the man's pathetic pleas for help. He was immune to compassion when he asked the last question the man would ever hear, and glared down at him with eyes touched by churning hues of orange.

Where is your lair?

"Captain Yasha!" Baron Wingate roared, infuriated that his captain had been slow to answer. Yasha winced and slowly looked up to the plump, old man. He had heard the question and it echoed just as his memory went back to the last thing the dying man had said, perhaps hoping that answering would somehow earn him leniency or salvation from his impending death.

The Black Cliffs.

"No, Baron. I did not learn anything from him before he died."

In the barracks at Arendelle castle, Yasha stood naked in a cold room made of stone. His hands were hanging at his sides and his entire body was drenched with clean, cold water. No matter how much water he poured over him, it never felt like enough. The sticky sensation of blood wouldn't leave his hands. The smell still burned within his nose. Even as his muscles shivered and his hair hung like a dark shroud around his face, he didn't move. In the moonlight, his body was marked with fresh cuts and several deep, purple bruises. He ached all over from his secret assault on the bandit's lair, yet it was the pain his chest that bothered him most and his pale gray eyes seemed drained because of it.

Which of my hearts feels this strange, terrible burning?

Ironically, he suddenly felt as if he didn't understand the FireHeart. He didn't know if it was the reason he had taken things into his own hands in dealing with those that had gone after the ones he loved. He didn't know if the continued use of his magic was the reason his chest burned afterward, or why it was so much harder to control it now, when it was obviously so much stronger than before. Idly, he wondered if his father would have been amused at seeing him like this, following in his footsteps.

The thought of Nazir made him shiver once more.

More than anything, he feared that his true heart didn't have the capacity to temper the FireHeart, and that these feelings of justification were just paving stones on a pathway that would someday turn him into the same monster that had been his ageless father and king.

He reviled the idea of becoming his father.

He then thought of Elsa and a strange calmness settled over him. His eyes rose to the small window at the top of the bathing area and he saw the moon lingering behind the tip of the Northern Tower of the castle. If there was one thing he could hold to in these moments of sheer terror at the darkness within, it was her light. More than anything, he wanted to stay close to that light and not be afraid. As long as he had her, he felt like these demons and shadows were nothing and that she drove his true heart within his chest, in deference to whatever the FireHeart may desire.

Suddenly, he wanted to be with her more than anything else, and feel her warm touch against his freezing skin.

Still dripping, he turned from the basin and headed back towards his room, though he passed a couple of the younger guards on their own way to the bathing area. They were shocked to see him, completely naked and still soaking wet, and with such a strange look in his eyes.

"Captain?" one of them asked, though they both stepped aside for him to pass, "You're up late."

He didn't answer and continued to walk slowly ahead, though the younger of the two men, a native of Fria, suddenly grinned widely and elbowed his counterpart. "Surely cleaning up to visit the Queen, Captain?"

Yasha stopped. At his side, still dripping with clean water, his hand twitched. The other guard paled at the younger man's remark and tried to muffle him. While the courtship of Elsa and Yasha was somewhat common knowledge in the kingdom, it was never spoken out loud, especially when either of them were around. Usually doing so meant a severe scolding or worse, and the Captain's cold and silent response made the two grimace and wait for something terrible.

Instead, they found he simply sighed and continued on, realizing that even though he wanted nothing more than to be with her, his heart would suddenly not allow it.

"No," he said quietly as he disappeared into the darkness of the hallway beyond.

"Perhaps not for a while."

Anna found Yasha in the garden of the castle, despondently sitting alone in nothing more than a simple white shirt, pants and the jackboots of his uniform. His hair was wet and hung wildly around his face, which gave him much the same rough appearance he had when she first met him. In his hand, he was mindlessly tapping his bamboo flute into his palm, but his eyes were staring forward in distant contemplation. She found his mood both made her want to leave him alone and find out what was bothering him.

As always, she followed her heart.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked cheerfully, approaching him with her hands clasped behind her back and her smile trying to dissolve the tense atmosphere that hung around him.

His only response was to lower his eyes.

Feeling a bit disappointed, she nonetheless sat gingerly next to him, prodding her fingers into one another as she looked out over the dimly lit garden. Strangely, she realized she rarely just sat and looked at the collection of trees and bushes at night. It had certainly had its own sense of beauty to it.

"Nice night to sit out and enjoy the garden, isn't it?" she said, trying to goad him into talking.

Once more, her cheerful tone was met with silence.

Several more awkward moments went by as she tried to figure out how to warm him up, though in the end she realized that beating around the bush was never her style. She always went straight at the matter. "So I never told you thanks for saving me the other day. I was absolutely freaking out when that guy grabbed me. Ugh, he was all smelly and sweaty and gross. Then here you come and POW!" she cried, excitedly slapping her fist into her hand to simulate how he had tackled the man from on top of her. While for most people, the situation would have been reversed, with Anna traumatized by the event and her savior trying to cheer her up, things were never so scripted when it came to them. It was just the world she accepted whenever Yasha was involved. "Then I was totally freaked out that you were going to get hurt. My heart gets going just remembering it! I mean, what a day," she finished, leaning back against the bench and panting just from recounting it.

To her growing annoyance, he continued to stare down at the silent flute in his hands, not biting at the many lines she threw him. "Yeah, so anyway," she sighed, leaning back forward to share his sulking mood, though her eyes had become affectionate as she looked to him. "Thanks."

"Really."

Finally, he slowly looked up, seeing her face unbroken by the incident. For the first time since he had returned from the Black Cliffs, and the massacre that had happened there, he felt slightly better knowing that Anna would always be Anna. She had her own strength against the world.

"I am relieved you were not hurt," he said hoarsely, as if he hadn't been using his voice lately.

"Boy, you and Elsa both. And Kristoff? I practically had to tie him down to keep him from joining the Royal Guard," she said with a grin, remembering how her fiancée had pawed her for nearly two hours after she came back.

At one point, she imagined that half of the castle was wondering what they were doing.

The idea made Yasha's glum mood break down and an oddly amused expression came over him. "I do not think he would enjoy taking orders from me," he replied, thinking about how the mountain man had the unique position to protect Anna in his arms whenever danger might come near.

Secretly, he was jealous of that.

"I'll say. You two barely stand in the same room together without bickering," she said, smirking at how the two men closest to her heart rarely ever got along with each other. She never really understood why. "Besides, I don't think they'd let him saddle up Sven like a cavalry horse."

"No, most certainly not," he agreed.

Another lingering silence settled over them, though this one wasn't nearly as oppressive as before. She was happy that he had finally started talking, though she was at a loss on where to go from there. For his part, Yasha felt himself slipping back into the dark pit he had been stuck in and the idea of taking Anna in with him was distasteful, though he was coming to the end of what he could handle alone and found that her mere presence had been giving him strength. He never understood why she had that effect on him.

"Anna," he said suddenly, his eyes falling back down to the flute in his hands and his eyes showing the hesitation in his heart, "I have done something terrible."

She looked to him with compassion, feeling he was still torturing himself over what happened. "Look, Yasha, nobody blames you for what you had to do. That guy…" she began, though was surprised when he suddenly shook his head and interrupted her.

"I do not mean what happened in the forest. There is more," he sighed, "Far more." Now, he wasn't even thinking of what had happened at the Black Cliffs. His memory had gone back further than even when they had met, when he was an exile from his kingdom and wandering around the land with no purpose and no hope. He had seen much of the world. The world had shown him much of himself. His past was something he didn't speak about often, even to Anna or Elsa, but it was his past, and his present, that was now standing over him like a dark demon before the fire, just as terrifying as he had been to the men he had found in the cave.

His troubled mind once more lingered on what he might become.

"It has never bothered me as much as it does now. Before, it was just survival. Now it is..." he whispered, unable to even finish his thought.

"What?" she asked softly.

Her inquiry was met with a bitter sigh, and he looked back up to the dark garden before him. "I do not know. Therein lays the madness of it."

"Yasha…" she cooed, trying to think of how best to help him.

"Someone once told me that good men craft good deeds," he explained, once more talking as if his questions weren't only posed to her, but to anyone that could answer them, "It is something I have always believed in. But I have trouble knowing what a good deed is anymore. If the cause is just, does it mean the deed is just? If the deed is foul?"

"Yeesh, you're even gloomier than usual," she quipped, crossing her arms over her chest. He didn't offer the usual light-hearted response but rather returned his eyes back to his hands, which were no longer cradling his flute but clawed open before him, a dry reminder of what he had done in the cave.

"Am I good man, Anna?" he suddenly asked.

The question took her off guard. It even made her laugh incredulously.

"What kind of question is that?" she replied.

"Perhaps the most important one I have ever asked of you. It is the one I ask myself over and over again, every time I see myself in the mirror," he admitted.

Anna let out a shaky breath at his serious mood. It was these sorts of moments where she found herself trapped by the whirlwind of power that seemed to follow him wherever he went. It was never enough that he was a powerful man, or that he bent the world around him. The thing that made Yasha so striking was that despite his power or his intelligence or his charm, he always held to his true self and never let the world turn him into something he wasn't.

It was the reason why he could never be anything other than a good man, at least in her eyes.

"Well, Elsa wouldn't love you if you weren't a good man. And neither would I," she said, though her words suddenly made a blush wash over her cheeks. His silence and piercing gray eyes on her made the blush worse as she then laughed it off and punched him in the arm softly. "But you know, not like that kind of love or anything, but more like, I dunno, a brotherly, kidnapper kind of way?"

"I do know what you mean," he admitted.

"Good," she chirped, if only to break the weight of the moment.

There was a strange silence that settled on them, with both understanding how they felt about the other, yet neither of them able to discern the fine line where love cut the difference of hearts clean.

Their intimacy just was what it was.

"Oh, and don't let Elsa ever know I said that. You have no idea how scary she can be. It gives me the chills just thinking about it," she suddenly said, rubbing her arms while imagining how cold of a reception her stated affection would earn her from the emotional mess Elsa could be.

While her counsel had been helping, Yasha continued to brood and suddenly sighed as he roughly ran his hands through his disheveled hair, finding it was still cold and wet to the touch. Anna picked up on his continuing struggle and slid closer to him. "Hey. You're going to go nuts thinking about whatever terrible things you've done, or trying to figure out if you're a good person or not. You'll definitely drive Elsa crazy if you keep being this mopey shadow down in the garden," she warned, watching him accept that with the way he smirked at his own behavior. That encouraged her to keep pushing him. "But seriously, it isn't that hard of a question. What does your heart tell you?"

"My heart," he sighed, "is something I may not understand as well as I pretend."

"Well, I understand it plenty," she replied, then reached over and placed her hands on his arm, squeezing it softly to show that she was there for him. "You are a good man, Yasha. I've known it since the moment we met, even if it was a little hard to see at first. So before you freak about all of these things that are bugging you, you should always come to me first. I'll remind you as many times as you need."

"And the way I see it, just asking the question kind of answers the question, doesn't it?"

With a deep breath, he slowly looked back to her and saw the support and love in her eyes. She had a beautifully poetic point, but it was nothing less than he expected from her unassuming wisdom. It was almost laughable how much he relied on her to be his conscience. The man he was in exile would have certainly laughed at it. Yet now, with so many priceless things in his world, he couldn't imagine his life without her, something that had come frighteningly close when the vagrant had taken from the coach and why the very actions he lamented once more seemed right and just.

Slowly, he placed his hand on hers. "Anna, I could never put into words how much you mean to me," he said softly, watching how it made her smile glow brilliantly in the dark garden. His own face felt hotter than usual.

"In a brotherly, kidnapper kind of way, of course."

Anna laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Of course," she agreed, then gazed at him for a long moment before letting her eyes lift up to the distant light on Elsa's bedchamber. She knew he still had one more place to be that evening. "She's waiting for you, you know. Ever since we got back."

He let his eyes follow. A shaky breath escaped his lips. Strangely, he had been avoiding Elsa's light since the moment he sat down on the bench, despite how much he knew it lit up his night. He also suspected that it was the entire reason he had been sitting alone in the garden, knowing it was just above him and waiting for him to simply look up.

Not willing to let him collapse back into his gloomy mood, she slipped her hand from his and stood, placing her hands back behind her back casually once more and taking a few swooping steps backwards from him.

"Go," she commanded, then spun around and strolled away into the darkness of the garden, leaving him little choice in the matter, "And leave all your moody, self-loathing down here in the bushes."

Yasha listened to her footsteps fade away into the night, his flute tapping into his palm again. His eyes were now cast on the light of Elsa's room. He once more felt the overwhelming urge to see her. To that end, he suddenly rose up and began walking towards the light, though his feet ground to halt in the gravel as was he once more strangled by doubt. His own hesitation sent powerful waves of anger through him and his hands clenched at his sides.

Exhaling sharply, he straightened his back and forced his way forward, intent upon reaching Elsa's balcony before he gave himself another chance to think.

In her room, Elsa had been pacing next to her bed for longer than she could remember. Not only had she been fawned over by what felt like every physician in the kingdom, but she had to then listen to Baron Wingate and Regent Stenson swear upon all manner of honors and bloodlines that they would find those responsible for attacking the royal coach. Truthfully, she had simply been happy that no one was seriously hurt, though there was another consequence of the incident that weighed far heavier on her heart and made the time since they returned painful and cold.

More than anything, she wanted to see Yasha.

"Elsa," said a quiet voice from her balcony and her eyes instantly flew to the figure that stood there. It was an answer to her heart's demands and seeing him made such a torrent of emotion flood over her that she was surprised she didn't freeze half of the castle.

Without saying anything, she rushed out of her chambers and met him on the balcony, slipping her arms around him. Just having him in her arms made the fears she had been feeling bleed away and her voice came out with streaks of relief thickly within.

"I was worried about you," she whispered.

His face softened at her touch and his arms slowly went around her. "Sorry," he said, unusually short for his way of speaking.

It made her smile.

She mused at how his time in Arendelle made the smallest of changes in him.

For a few moments, she just held him, breathing in his very air and being thankful that he hadn't been seriously hurt in the attack. The very thought of losing him made her let out a shaky breath. "Are you okay?" she suddenly asked and pulled back long enough to look over him, "Anna said you were hurt." She noticed the large cut over his eye and ran her fingers softly across it, frowning.

"Nothing that will not heal with time, perhaps," he replied.

The reply made her feel slightly better, though she was still concerned about why he had such a dark cloud following him. "Baron Wingate says you've been preoccupied ever since we returned. Is everything all right?"

The question hit him harder than the first. Letting out a long sigh, he dropped his eyes from her, staring down at the way she was holding to his hands.

"Doing what I had to do," he sighed, "made me think of things I would rather not think about."

Then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Speaking to Anna helped."

Elsa felt a wave of jealously come over her. Knowing that he often went to her sister when he was troubled had the strangest effect on her, for she loved them both dearly and wanted to be the first line of their confidence. Still, she had accepted long ago that her beloved prince and her beloved sister had a strange, powerful bond, and that ultimately her happiness at hearing she had helped him outweighed her thin feelings of jealousy.

Feeling the chill on his skin, she suddenly pulled on him and beckoned him into her bedchambers. "Your hands are freezing. Come inside before you catch a cold," she commanded. He offered little resistance as she brought him into the warmth of her room and then furiously began to rub her hands over his.

"There. Leave them to me," she said softly, glad to have him all to herself.

He stood there and let her fawn over him. He watched her with pale eyes caught in the brightness of her light. When he looked at her like that, she had trouble keeping the blush from her cheeks. "You know, I never found the chance to thank you for saving Anna. I was so frightened when they took her, until I heard Johann call out for you to go after her," she said, strangely remembering that terrifying day fondly and raising her eyes to him. "Then I just knew you'd bring her back."

"She is the Princess. It was my duty," he said stiffly.

"Just another day as Captain of the Guard? Just another day to be a hero?" she asked a bit playfully, trying to dissolve his chilly mood.

"I would have gone without the uniform," he snorted, though his expression changed as he imagined how he would have felt if it had been Elsa that had been taken. Idly, he imagined that entire forest would have gone up in flames.

He lovingly reached up and caressed her jaw.

"And for you..."

Elsa pushed her cheek into his hand and smiled, finally happy to feel the warmth of his genuine touch.

"I know," she replied.

As her eyes reached up to him and reveled in his touch, his fingers brushed across the bump on her head, making his eyes narrow as he let the torrent of his emotions gather once more. His voice came out darker than he should have allowed. "How is your injury?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine. It's just a little bump on the head," she replied, eager to not have yet another person go over every part of her to make sure she was okay.

Impishly, she realized that if it were Yasha, it actually might not be such a bad idea.

He continued to run his hand across her and she could see he was starting to dwell on the fact that she had been hurt, but the feel of his rough hand over her skin was starting to make it feel warm, as if he still commanded the will of every flame. Her eyes were hotly upon him, and her breathing was starting to get quick.

"It's starting to feel much better now," she purred, her hands reaching up and twisting his shirt within her fingers. Secretly, she had been burning for him ever since the attack, as heroics had an intoxicating effect on those who witnessed them. Imagining him valiantly fighting to protect her made her heart race and finally having him alone in her bedchamber was calling on her to give him a queen's reward for his actions.

Seeing the passion in her eyes, he felt guilty for being the object of that passion. There was a coward within him, one that desperately feared how much those eyes would change if he ever told her of the things he had done, but there was also a man that loved her more than anything and was just as desperate to give everything he was to her.

"Elsa, I…" he began, but she had been picking up on his mood and decided to slay it where it stood.

Quickly pushing up on her toes, she kissed him to stop his flow of doubt, and she gently wrapped her arms around his neck. She wouldn't give him a chance to get away from this or speak any more.

For someone that was notoriously quiet and reserved, sometimes he talked too much.

His response was surprise at first, though he soon melted into her embrace and wrapped his arms around her, returning the abrupt kiss. Inwardly, he mused that this queen truly knew how to command him.

The kiss was short but fierce, and Elsa soon pulled back, though she continued to cradle his neck with her arms and linger before his lips, looking down with a bit of a blush. "I've wanted to do that for two days now," she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips as her blue eyes then rose to meet his. "You really know how to keep a girl waiting, you know."

His own lips parted, though the sweet taste on them muffled any more words and as he searched her sapphire eyes, he found that the answers she offered him weren't the ones he could ask with words, but rather in the way her chest rose and fell and her heartbeat pulsed through her skin. Now that she had ignited the fire within him, he felt it burn out of control and pulled her back, kissing her with all of the passions she sparked in his heart. Her thin sleepwear made her body sensitive to his touch and she whimpered at the pleasure that crawled over her skin. Without thinking, she had raised her leg up to his hip and felt as his rough hand fanned out across her white thigh, making her suck in an elated breath. Encouraged by the sounds she made, he slowly began to kiss down her neck and to her bare shoulder, things that only made her continue to squirm against this assault against her senses. As she didn't want to let him control the pace entirely, her own hands began to wander down his shoulders and arms, then finding his clenched torso ripple under the touch of her fingers. The way he ground into her made her moan and claw her hands into his body, though she was surprised when he suddenly grunted and pulled away, trying to hide the pain she had just sent through him.

It took her a moment to regain her senses. "What's wrong?" she asked, a bit out of breath and her eyes filled with concern.

He shook his head and took a deep breath. "It is nothing."

She instantly pursed her lips, glaring at him for even trying to slip a lie past her. As she was already in the mood to dominate him, she slowly reached out and began to unbutton his shirt, something that caused him to catch her hands and look to her. "Elsa," he protested, hoping it would somehow deter her. It didn't, and with a fierce glance she defeated his objection and continued to work down his shirt.

As she opened it, she found his muscular frame covered in new cuts and bruises, especially the large, dark discoloration over his side. The sight of them made her heart wail. "Oh Yasha," she gasped. They looked extremely painful and she bit her lip, looking over them all before raising her eyes. She demanded something of him, though she had no idea what.

"They look worse than they are," he said, trying to dismiss it as nothing more than occupational hazards. Inwardly, he berated himself for not being aware enough to have used his magic to heal them, though he also realized that his usage in the cave had probably depleted him for a while.

Though somewhere inside, he wondered if he had left them there on purpose.

That excuse wasn't good enough for her and she let out an exasperated sigh, then realized there was no real admonishment she could offer. As painful as it was to see, she knew this had happened to protect her and Anna, testaments of his devotion to them. Slowly, she ran her fingers up his body, not touching the skin and taking great care to not bother the wounds, but making her way up to where his shirt hung on his battered shoulders. Her fingers nimbly slipped under the cloth and pushed it back, letting the shirt slide from him and fall to the floor at their feet.

He didn't resist her.

Now seeing the full depth of his wounds, her brow furrowed and she felt like sobbing, though she knew that would only make him feel worse. Instead, she fought back her wild emotions and examined every inch of his skin. She could also tell he hadn't been eating enough lately by the way each of his muscles was cut sharply against his skin, and he had very little fat on him. Usually, his fit body excited her, but the myriad of dark marks and fresh cuts simply broke her heart. This wasn't the body that was supposed to belong to a prince, and she still had trouble accepting the things he was willing to do for her.

Gathering her courage as she looked over him and his marked appearance, she felt motivated to express her devotion to him as well. She let go of the anger and sorrow in her eyes, and embraced the desire to heal him.

"You know, I have a magic spell that can help," she said softly, feeling the blood in her cheeks.

Yasha lifted a brow at her mention of healing magic, wondering if she was now able to read his thoughts as well.

"Do you?" he asked.

She nodded timidly, then slowly pushed him backwards until his legs hit her mattress and then laid him back on her bed softly, taking great care to not exaggerate his wounds. As his muscles flexed and settled, she seductively crawled onto the bed above him, smiling and tossing her hair to the side of her neck as she straddled her legs over him.

Gently, she lowered her head and planted a tender kiss on the dark spot on his side, feeling the way he tensed up at her touch. The way his breathing became erratic made her smile more and she deliberately moved slowly over him, placing her red lips on the places of his body that were racked with injury. This magic didn't involve her ice, but judging by the way it made his skin hot, it was obviously more aligned with his flame.

As she continued to devote her lips to him, his eyes closed and his mind became devoid of anything but the fire she was stoking in him. Everything was driving his desire for her, from the way her lips felt to the very way her body bent the bed around them. Her hair tickled across his stomach. Her legs rubbed against his. Her breath was whispering through the air. As she moved up and kissed his chest, he let out a deeply rooted breath from his lips and could barely keep himself still. Showing his lack of control, he reached up and caressed her neck, feeling her skin was hot to the touch. While he should have let his queen command him, he couldn't stop himself from touching her. His touch sent shudders through her, and she softly panted his name, signaling that their heat had also gotten to her as well.

"Yasha…"

Hearing her call him, he slowly opened his eyes, finding that his hands were smearing bright red blood across her white skin, streaking remorselessly around her heated expression and near her loving, blue eyes. The sight made him suddenly thrash wildly and lurch back, his breath stuck in his throat and his eyes cast wildly down to his completely clean hands.

Elsa was throttled by his violent response, then reached out a reluctant hand to him. "What's wrong? What is it? Did I hurt you?" she panted, terrified of his sudden movements and the terrible look on his face.

Quickly, he looked back and found not a trace of blood to be seen, yet the memory of the red color was powerful in his mind, especially painted across her white skin. Gasping for air, he suddenly hunched forward and pressed his hand against his face, not knowing what was wrong with him. A cold sweat covered his body and he shuddered, finding that even her presence couldn't dispel the demons in the back of his mind, or give him the peace he so wanted. It was as if his own infallible resolve was chaining him to the despair, and that the thing that was often his greatest weapon was now his greatest burden.

To his terror and misery, he realized there would be no simple way to forget all that had been torturing him.

When he didn't answer her and continued to wallow in fear, she quickly went to him, wrapping her arms around his head and pulling it tightly into her chest. "Shhhh," she whispered, hushing his quiet groaning. She had no idea what was tormenting him, but figured it had something to do with what had happened. Whatever wounds he had were deeper than she thought, though she was resolved to use whatever magic was necessary to heal them. A part of her was content in the fact that despite his fierce reputation, she got to see the real him, one that was racked by doubt and fears. That was the part of him that she had always loved, even in those first moments of hate and terror when they had first gone to his kingdom to dissolve his tyrannical fate. The fact that he was human and not some heartless monster let her know that it was possible to love him without regret, with even the moments he spent trembling her arms nothing less than overwhelming proof that he was the beautiful, good man she knew him to be.

"I'm here for you, Yasha. Whatever it is, I'll always be right here."

For a very long time that evening, she protectively held him, letting him weep and writhe and whatever else he needed to heal. While she would never pretend to understand the horrors of his life, she would present herself as the light he always wanted, her gentle heart willing to accept him for his flaws, whatever they may be. The proud and invincible prince of Fria was broken in her arms, not the demon that incinerated criminals or the soldier that defeated any opponent that faced him, but the man that wanted forgiveness for his sins and demanded more from his own heart than any villain, tearing away at himself for the sake of himself, all because of the question he felt he couldn't answer, yet came to her as easily as the calm breathing that accompanied his moaning.

Elsa loved Yasha because he was Yasha, and that was more than she ever needed to protect him from what might harm him, even when that something was the very expectation he had of himself to be a good man.