Henry Evenrath, Duke of Ledsham looked around his "estate." It was only a house, not even a large house, but it was the best he could find for let in this ridiculous backwater excuse for a kingdom. This was not what he was accustomed to. This was not what was worthy of his station. This was not Avalon.

The hour was late. He was pacing because he had nothing to do. He had had nothing to do, for the last week and a half mind you, because apparently Her Majesty had decided to punish him for daring to try to apprehend Fitzwilliam. Punish him! For something that was his right? The idea enraged him; it made him so furious that he couldn't see when he thought of it. He intended that they would both regret their behavior, Fitzwilliam for defying him, Queen Elsa for thwarting him. He hadn't yet quite decided out how, but he was determined. He was also well equipped.

He had brought two squads of his own regiment, men loyal to him above anyone, because he had considered that the vaunted captain might get queasy over the measures he was prepared to take to get the queen back to Avalon. He had also made the fortunate decision to include in this group men with skills beyond marksmanship and marching. He was waiting for two of those men now, those skillful men.

There was a rap on the door. His valet went to answer it, and soon two corporals came into the sitting room where he paced. He knew they were corporals, but right now they appeared to be any other working class inhabitant of Arendelle or almost any kingdom for the matter.

The two men came to attention, which he waved off. He didn't need niceties now; he needed information. He did, however, decide to sit. He had an unfinished glass of Scotch on his desk, and a forgotten cigar smoldered waiting for him.

"I take it no luck, Milord?" The speaker was named Boothe. He was tall and lanky and the more talkative of the two. His companion Hogarth was much larger but far less communicative.

"Damn woman still won't see me," Duke Ledsham exclaimed. "It's intolerable. Did you find Fitzwilliam?"

"Captain's been staying on the ship, although not much during the day. Smythe says she's sleepin' there. Get's up right early and scarpers off though. Don't come back till about midnight."

Ledsham grimaced. As much as he'd like to go roust the captain out of her bed and drag her down here right now, he couldn't risk being permanently banned from seeing the queen. He took a long swallow of the watered down drink, and reached to pick up the cigar.

"What else did you find out? Why is the queen protecting Captain Fitzwilliam? And why is she so damn obstinate?"

"Can't help you with the last one, milord," Boothe chuckled, "but we did find somethin'. Seems that's where the good captain's going. She's giving sword lessons or some such crap to the princess. She's there all day. She stays for dinner. She stays afterward. Awful attentive she is."

"And you think something's going on … with the princess?"

Boothe shrugged and leaned on the desk. "Maybe, milord, but the princess has a fellow. He's in and out, but everyone talks about them together. Kristoff's his name. So my money's not on the princess … but I think you're on the right scent, you are."

"Then what … or should I say who?" Ledsham said furiously stubbing out his cigar. "There's no one else in there, but …." Then the Duke laughed, a nasty snarly wheeze. "That cheeky bitch ... the queen. God, she needs to come down a couple of pegs. A little humility will do her good."

"Yep, I agree, it figures to be that the captain has been keepin' the company of the queen. Five'll get you ten they're having a stitch."

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," Ledsham played with the glass in his hand, watching the pale gold liquid swirl as he grinned. "I've heard Fitzwilliam gets around. Rumor is she had a brush with the Comtesse d'Artois; I bet they made a fine pair."

"I heard she's done half the Marchionesses of the Continent." Boothe sneered, "Wouldn't see the sport in it if I was a bird, but I'd do her myself. She needs it proper. Fix what's wrong with her, I would."

Hogarth laughed in a deliberate tone as he considered that picture.

Ledsham continued in a thoughtful manner as he stroked his chin for effect."So our good captain leaves for the castle early in the morning returning at night just early enough to forestall rumors of impropriety, which suggests there is definitely impropriety. Well done gentlemen, this is a very important development indeed."

"We thought you'd be pleased, Milord." Boothe said. "You gonna pull the rug out from under the captain? Knock her back a bit?"

Ledsham scoffed,"Oh no, you think too small. This is the key to our whole problem."

"How so, milord?"

"The queen strikes me as a great deal more innocent than our good captain. She's young, and young women are given to fantasies of true love. It's quite probable there are real feelings there. And the captain, experienced as she may be, won't allow someone with whom she has this sort of relationship to suffer on her behalf. She still believes in that chivalry nonsense." The sour expression on Ledsham's face told exactly what he thought of chivalry.

"And that's somethin' we can use."

"Absolutely. Feelings are a weakness. Feelings will be our lever to break open Arendelle and retrieve the prize we've been sent to retrieve."

"She's not going to go willingly." Boothe shook his head, not thinking he was quite as sure of this as the Duke was.

"You might be surprised what a young woman will do if the thinks she's in love."

The Duke got up from his desk, indicated that the two men should stay, and summoned his valet to find his secretary. He wanted this done. He wanted out of Arendelle and back to civilization as soon as possible, and that required action immediately.

As they waited for the secretary to dress and come down, the Duke briefed his henchmen on the plan."I will have something for you for tomorrow. Two packages. Discretion will be paramount, you cannot be caught at this."

"Of course, milord. We'll be in and out like shadows. No one'll be the wiser."

Kristoff walked out into the training yard, which had turned out to be the courtyard with a few additional features. The captain had added something she called "a pell," bundles of tightly woven straw roughly in the shape of a person. The pell wielded a wooden practice sword, which was snugly bound onto where an arm would be. The captain had her charges use the practice swords with the pell, but her Midshipmen used real swords when they sparred or did drills. For sparring she made them use weapons without an edge, fewer eyes were lost that way, but the weight was an important part of developing the forearm strength to use a sword effectively. Anna, however, was currently restricted only to the practice sword until her arm grew strong enough that she could reliably control the point of a real sword. Kristoff suspected that safety, both Anna's and that of everyone else, might play a part, but the captain had assured her that she would be picking up a real sword soon enough.

Today the captain came alone, and it was just her and Anna out in the courtyard. Fitzwilliam was in her shirtsleeves looking well put together even with the strenuous activity and the heat. Anna however, dressed sensibly in a pair of trousers and a shirt, looked like a drowned rat. Sweat had plastered her hair around her face. Her shirt had large patches of sweat on it, and in that sweat streaks of dirt. Kristofff found that irresistible.

"Again!" Fitzwilliam shouted out the count in a slow rhythm. "High quartre, parry, riposte. High tierce, beat, lunge." She shook her head at her student and stopped the chant. "Damn it, keep your knees bent. Hand loose, don't have a death grip on the sword, it's not some axe for chopping wood, and your tip must stay even. Even and pointed at your target. Now again."

Anna ignored the order and took the practice sword in her left, shaking out her aching wrist.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"My arm is tired. I can't move it. I can't even feel it. I need a minute before I can do the drill again."

Fitzwilliam quickly closed the distance between them. "Oh, I see. When you're fighting for your life you'll stop and say 'Monsieur, my arm hurts.' I'm sure whoever is bent on killing you will be happy to let you take a moment." The captain poked her in the chest. "Bring your sword up and do it again. This time with your knees bent the entire time."

Anna grumbled and flexed another time before changing the sword back.

"NOW!" Fitzwilliam smacked her on the butt with the flat of her scabbard.

"Ow," Anna yelped, "that hurts!"

"Not as much as a sword in your belly," Fitzwilliam said tersely, and she lifted her scabbard again as a warning. Anna quickly complied with her order.

Kristoff scowled and considered if he should intervene. He hadn't decided how much he liked this 'learning to use a sword idea' of Anna's. It wasn't his place to say 'yes' or 'no,' but he had feelings about it. It took a lot of her time. It left her with even more bruises than she usually sported. And there was something about Fitzwilliam, a change in attitude when she picked up a sword that he wasn't sure he liked. She moved like a predator. She watched Anna like a wolf watches a lamb. There was something hungry in her eyes that emerged in the heat and the sweat of the training yard.

Fitzwilliam walked quickly behind Anna a little amused when the girl flinched.

"Now," she moved in close, there were maybe two inches between her and the princess. "Bend your knees."

She pushed Anna down into a deeper bend, and then squatted behind her forcing her larger form into the same relative position. Her right arm came around Anna's arm and she gently supported her forearm. Then in a quiet tone, an ordinary tone, a tone you might use with a friend in an intimate conversation, she continued, "The best time to practice is when you can't hold up your sword any more. That's when all the bad habits and rote ways of using your arms fall away. You have to really think to move. And if you're thinking instead of just moving, we can rebuild those pathways, so that they work for you with a sword instead of against you."

She leaned in even further so that now her body was flush against Anna's. "Loose grip, only the thumb and forefinger tight. Loose, loose … good. Now high quatre, parry, riposte," Fitzwilliam guided the sword into the proper position. "Parry, like this," slowly she shifted the guard of the short sword out just even with the edge of Anna's body keeping the tip still pointed at the imaginary attacker. "Just that much. You only have to guide their blade around your body and keep your point online." She repeated the motion guiding Anna's arm faster, and then faster still.

"Next, high tierce, beat … lunge." Fitzwilliam stopped and brought Anna's arm back to the neutral position and then flicked out a quick beat against her imaginary opponent.

"Don't fight me and don't beat out so far, you only need to move their sword enough to get it off line for a moment longer than yours. You just need the initiative. And your when point has come back online then lunge. Now, the whole thing. High tierce, beat, lunge ..." when Anna lunged the captain used her left hand to pull down on her shoulder.

"Don't stand up … knees bent … whoa." She caught Anna as she started to fall forward. "That lunge wasn't the best, but the rest … that is how it should feel."

"Numb?" Anna asked.

Fitzwilliam smiled a wicked smile. "I guess if you've got enough energy to mouth off, you've got enough energy for three more."

Anna opened her mouth to protest but decided against it after looking at her tutor's expression. Reluctantly she got back into position, knees bent even though it was killing her.

The captain started again with a slow even count. "High quartre, parry, riposte. High tierce, beat, lunge. Again. Better form!" She was moving slowly toward Anna as she counted, keeping her eyes fixed on Anna's eyes. Her pace increased. "High quartre, parry, riposte. High tierce, beat, lunge. One more!" Now she was right at Anna's side, her face inches from Anna's face. "High quartre, parry, riposte. High tierce, beat, lunge." Her expression hardened. "And hold, and hold, and hold ... done. Good."

Anna groaned as she pulled herself back from the lunge. Her arm was shaking, but she felt better than she had all day. She'd done it. She had really done it.

Fitzwilliam glanced up at the balcony window. "Take fifteen minutes, and get some water. Fifteen minutes, no longer. If you're not back in fifteen and working on the pell, you'll be running around the castle again."

"Aye, aye," Anna said giving her best salute and sporting a ridiculous grin.

Fitzwilliam's eyes narrowed, "Good thing I like you," she said. And then she turned on her heel and jogged off into the castle interior.

Anna saw Kristoff sitting on one of the ground floor window boxes. "Hey, how'd I do?" she said cheerfully as she tucked her practice sword up against the pell.

Kristoff scowled. "You can't let her treat you like that."

"What?"

"She's yelling at you. She hit you!" He walked over and stroked her arm possessively.

"Yeah, but not anything serious. She's just getting my attention. Not that I wouldn't mind a simple 'Hey, Anna pay attention.' But that doesn't seem to be her style."

Kristoff continued unpersuaded. "And then she's all over you, holding you, and right up against you."

"So you're mad because she's too mean, or too close?"

"It's just not right." He said firmly.

Anna smiled as she realized what the problem was. "Kristoff, you're jealous."

"No."

"No? Then what is the problem?" She crossed her arms and waited for a response.

"I just feel …." He couldn't meet her eyes. "Well, you two talk all the time at dinner."

"Because the other two people in the room say like eight words total if we don't."

"And you're joking around with her, and … and you like her."

"Of course I like her, what's not to like." Anna's hands shot up in exclamation. "She's fun, she tells great stories, she likes sharp pointy things, let's me play with them, and isn't always telling me not to hurt myself."

Kristoff continued determined that she see the problem. "I come back after a couple days away and she was … under you … it was like you're sitting on her lap."

"That was hardly sitting, and trust me it's not comfortable."

"She was touching you!" He finished with his concluding argument.

"Oh, Kristoff." Anna shook her head. "She has no interest in me."

"It didn't look like 'no interest' from here."

"You are so cute when you're like this," Anna pinched his cheek which led to a grimace and his quick retreat. "No, I swear …" Anna continued, "her eyes are elsewhere."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh God, you are that blind? And you were raised by 'love experts?'"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Come on."

"Where?"

"Just come on."

Anna dragged Kristoff into the castle. She bounded up the circular staircase with him right behind and then up again to the third floor, where she led the way into a storage room that had a small door in it's ceiling. "

"Pull on that."

Kristoff pulled. The door swung down and a ladder unfolded; it went up to the roof.

"Up, we go."

"What are you doing Anna?"

"I just want to remind you that I spent my childhood bored and trying to find interesting places to play. So, I know my way around here."

"What? I don't understand. What does that have to do with Captain Fitzwilliam?"

"Now you have to be quiet, no stomping, no falling, really no stomping, and follow me."

He followed her.

They came over the peak of the castle roof to a place where there was a rope firmly attached to a chimney. Anna grabbed onto the rope and followed it carefully to the roof edge with Kristoff right behind her. He watched as she went prone on her stomach and then, keeping one hand on the rope, she hooked her feet on a drain pipe and hung her head and shoulders over the edge of the roof much like a bat. He did the same.

"What are we doing?" Kristoff whispered once he was hanging beside her.

Anna held one finger up to her lips to remind him to whisper. She indicated the window in front of them, directing his gaze to the room beyond.

Kristoff squinted. It took a second to get everything in the right place. The glass was in the window was very good, so he had a clear view of the room, but he had never seen Elsa's study upside down before. He had to get himself oriented, the chairs there, the desk there, the door there … oh ... oh! He realized what he was seeing. Captain Fitzpatrick had her back to him and was holding someone up against the door in what appeared to be a very passionate embrace. There was a flash of movement, and an ice covered arm was pushed up and held firmly against the door, then another one … he realized that the someone was the queen. "Elsa?" he said. "That's Elsa."

"Yep."

"Anna, you're spying on your sister … and the captain … making out?"

"Yep."

"Wow." He said, not taking his eyes off the two of them.

"Yeah, I used to come here to see Elsa when I was a kid. I just wanted to see her, and one of the best places was in Papa's study. But once I realized that something had to be going on between her and Fitzwilliam, I figure it was worth a trip back up here, you know just to make sure everything was going smoothly."

"Wow," Kristoff repeated as if in a daze. "Don't they have to breathe?"

"Yeah, they're pretty inten... hey, hey … I didn't bring you up here to be all creepy."

"You're worried about me being creepy, Anna? You just dragged me on the roof to watch your sister make out with another woman."

Anna gestured wildly for him to lower his voice."I was just proving my point. You don't have to be jealous. Captain Fitzwilliam is so not here for me. I don't think she can see anyone else but Elsa."

"Umhum," Kristoff mumbled absently still staring in the window.

"Time to go." Anna pulled herself back upright and then gave him a tug.

"Yeah, just a second …" Then she punched him when he wouldn't move. "Ow. I'm coming."

They climbed back down the way they came. Anna hurried Kristoff along. The captain was sometimes punctual in her reappearance, not often but sometimes.

As Kristoff closed the small access door he asked,"So have they … you know? "

"No." Anna answered rolling her eyes. "They've been kissing each other like … like that for about a week now, but that seems to be about as far as it goes."

Kristoff decided he didn't want to know how Anna knew that."But why? I mean I'm a little surprised, it seemed pretty hot and heavy in there."

"One of them is too shy, and the other one is too polite."

"Fitzwilliam doesn't strike me as shy."

"No, she's the polite one."

"Do you think they will?"

Anna looked out into the courtyard to make sure they were alone before she answered. It was empty."I hope so. It would probably improve Elsa's mood." She walked over to a water bucket and took a drink from a dipper there. Then she retrieved her sword and continued her train of thought."It would do her good. You know, Fitzwilliam's a sailor, she's been around the world, so I bet she's got all these … techniques."

Leaving Kristoff desperately scrubbing at his face trying to unhear her last words, she started practicing her form on the pell. It was remarkably timely as Fitzwilliam threw open the door and walked out, running her fingers through her hair to push it back into place. Kristoff gave Anna a peck on her moving cheek and waved to the captain as he left. The captain waved back with a cheerful smile. Kristoff noticed that the predatory look was gone. Apparently the wolf had snacked.

A/N: I've included a shout-out to AFA ... and thank you to Requ for the momentary loan.