Past: Memory

The night had passed and it was well into the next day now. Mael continued to tend to Hans gently and surely after his trial of swords with Jürgen, as was expected of a medical professional. Most of the others were tending to duties in the castle, waiting for news. Moren sat in his office dealing with kingdom affairs and dreading the evening, for in the evening a decision had to be made as to Hans's fate, and more specifically Kelin-Sel's, because Kelin-Sel would not allow Hans to die. He would take his place first. Tonight there would be an execution, because he had found no loophole to exploit to get around it. He could write to Queen Elsa. He had written. Rather one of his brothers had, and he suspected which one. He had determined as much on realizing a carrier pigeon was missing. Hence the reason he had not written himself. However, it meant nothing if no reply from her returned today. He heard a fluttering of wings and turned to the window. Had he the desire to, he would have cheered. Right on time. The pigeon was perched there, a letter bound to its leg. Moren rose and went to the bird, taking it inside and unclasping the message from its leg. He opened it and read, while stroking the pigeon gently.

King Moren Westergaard of the Southern Isles:

I am sorry. I was unaware of what my actions meant for you and your brothers and how it must hurt you. Having believed I had lost Anna, I realize how painful losing your sibling could end up being for you. I did not think to realize that sending him back to you and your brothers alive would only doom him to die at your own hands. The thought never crossed my mind. For that, again, I am sorry.

I sent him back, for though he was wicked and dealt with my sister treacherously, his words were true. He said to me, 'Don't be the monster they fear you are.' I could not sentence him to die in my land. Not remembering those words and realizing that was just what I would become if I did; rather, how I would feel I would become. I know, now, that perhaps it would have been better for me to write you and inform you that he was to die in Arendelle rather than sending him back to sentence yourself, but part of me did not desire his death. I have experienced enough death and loss of loved ones, and to know he had twelve brothers who could feel as I had…

I believe part of me hoped you would find a way around the death sentence. It seems that is not the case. For your sake and the sakes of your brothers, not Hans, I plead for his life. I do not desire his death and acquit him of that sentence, if it pleases you. However, in this case he is to return to Arendelle for trial and an alternate sentence. I will not put that burden on you and your brothers, though your input will be requested and your appearance at the trial a requirement.

With Deepest Respect,

Queen Elsa of Arendelle

Frozen

Moren read the letter, shaking his head. Hans. That eloquent little bastard. He dryly chuckled. The youngest prince had always been good with words, especially on paper and especially if it was creative writing. His ability to capture emotions and drive the reader to feel sympathy for even undeserving characters was uncanny. It was apparent whatever his brother had written in his name had touched Elsa's heart. He couldn't say he was upset by that. In fact, it felt as if a great weight had been lifted from him. He rose and took the pigeon, leaving his study. He looked down the hallway. Jürgen was there, sharpening his sword. The second eldest look up, frowning curiously.

"She has pardoned Hans from death, though a trial and alternate sentence is to be handed out in Arendelle.," Moren simply said. Little more explanation was needed.

Jürgen was silent, then bitterly chuckled. "Just my luck," he replied. "I may have killed a pardoned man… Not just any man either, oh no. It had to be my own brother."

Moren was quiet, watching Jürgen. He didn't understand the second eldest, but then Jürgen didn't understand him in turn. What Moren found most confusing was the fact that most of the time Jürgen knew that what he did and how he acted or dealt with things was wrong and doing more harm than good. He just did them anyway in a tough—and by tough he meant Spartan—love sort of way. If love was even the word to use. Perhaps it was because his brother knew no other way. Frankly, he was surprised he did. He shook his head, recalling one incident from long ago that Jürgen had told him about…

Thirteen Years Ago

"I can't believe this," 10-year-old Hans said in disgust as he stood next to a 24-year-old Jürgen. Both brothers had their arms folded and were looking away from each other sulkily. A crew was loading a ship with supplies for a sea patrol.

"It wasn't my choice to drag you along on the high seas, pest. Dad and Caleb wanted you doing something useful for once, though I doubt you'll be capable of handling this." Jürgen replied. "You've never been at sea in your life."

"No thanks to you!" Hans snapped back.

"As if I would risk bringing a child along on a sea voyage," Jürgen replied.

"I'm still a child now and you're bringing me!" Hans protested.

"I am because Caleb ordered me to," Jürgen retorted. "And I made it very, very clear to him that should you fall overboard, little brother, your blood is on his hands, not mine."

"A grab for the throne, Jürgen?" Hans purred. He yelped as Jürgen slapped him. He looked up at his big brother with eyes wide. He gasped as Jürgen knelt, painfully seizing his shoulders.

"Don't. Test me. Hans," Jürgen dangerously warned. "You may find yourself accidentally on purpose sleep walking off of the ship, understood?"

"I hate you!" Hans yelled.

"Am I supposed to care?" Jürgen asked, standing again and holding Hans's arm tightly. "Come on."

Frozen

"Whoa," Hans said, watching over the front of the ship in awe as the wind whipped back his hair. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and grinning. He loved the smell and the feel of the ocean! He decided he liked sailing. He wanted to sail when he was older more often.

"Hans!" Jürgen called. Hans turned, frowning back, and climbed off of the railing, shuffling back to his brother. "I'm going to show you how to tie knots properly on a ship," Jürgen said.

"You're what? Willingly?" Hans asked.

Jürgen chuckled. "We're stuck together for a few days. Might as well make sure it isn't all squandered. Have to make sure you actually survive this voyage," he answered.

"O-okay," Hans said, feeling eager now. His brother was actually going to teach him something! He hoped. Last time Jürgen said he would teach him something, he ended up locked outside of the palace in the freezing snow learning how to, in Jürgen's words, 'survive a frigid night with nothing but the clothes on your back after you anger someone and they decide to banish you'. And then the time before that he'd ended up learning how to swim because Jürgen threw him into the lake to drown. Well, maybe not drown because Jürgen hadn't left the lakeside—when he'd told on Jürgen to father, father had told him that if Jürgen had wanted to drown him, he would have left, or tossed him into a river, or over the edge of a ship into the ocean—but still!

Jürgen knelt down in front of Hans and handed him a piece of rope. "Now, watch what I do," Jürgen said. He began tying a knot, carefully explaining the steps. The first few times, Hans didn't get it right and Jürgen was getting angry. He was afraid Jürgen would hit him—Jürgen tended to do that a lot, though not as much as Runo—but so far Jürgen always patiently explained it again. Hans believed that maybe being on the sea made Jürgen a bit nicer. He didn't seem as agitated and restless as he usually did in the palace. Hans finally made the proper knot and gasped. "Jürgen, look, I did it!" he exclaimed, holding it up proudly.

Jürgen took it and looked it over. He scoffed. "Yeah. Proper if you want to die. This is pathetic, brat. It needs to be better. If a big wave came, it would wash you overboard," he said.

"But-but I tried my best," Hans said, hurt in his eyes. He had tried really hard and been extra careful trying to do it right.

Jürgen bitterly chuckled. "You always do. Problem is your best is never good enough," he said to his brother. "If you get washed overboard it'll serve you right for this." Hans bowed his head sadly, tears burning his eyes. "Watch again," Jürgen said with a sigh. Hans didn't look up. Jürgen was silent a moment. After a bit he tilted Hans's chin so the child would look at him. "Watch. Again," he repeated. He did it yet again. Hans observed again. He didn't know where he'd gone wrong!

"I don't know what I did wrong," he said, voice breaking.

"Show me," Jürgen said. Hans began working on the knot again. "Stop," he said almost immediately. Hans paused, looking up. "Tighter, Hans, pull it tighter," he said. "And make it more even and properly sized." Hans tried again and pulled it. "Harder." Hans pulled harder. "Harder," Jürgen said again. Hans grunted, pulling as hard as he could. "There you go. It might actually have a chance of saving your life now." Hans nodded. "Let's go to the helm and I'll give you a crash course on steering."

"You're going to let me sail it?!" Hans asked, bug-eyed.

"Not on your life. Not unless the situation is so dire there's no one else left to do it," Jürgen answered, leading his brother up to the helm and giving him a crash course on navigating, port and starboard, bow and stern, other parts of the ship, and finally how to steer using all the above information, namely compasses, maps, and other navigation skills. Hans could at least keep the boat straight now, Jürgen dryly told himself. Maybe he'd actually make himself useful on this trip. To be honest, the kid was really getting the hang of this sailing thing. He almost felt threatened by what Hans might have the capacity to become when he got older—maybe he should throw the kid overboard to ensure it never happened—but he wasn't overly concerned right now.

Frozen

The sea had become violent and rough. Urgent orders were being called to the crew. Hans was curled up in the cabin, shaking in fear. Something was very, very wrong. He got up and went to Jürgen, who was sleeping. "Jürgen? Jürgen, wake up, I'm scared!" Hans insisted.

"Hmm? What the… Hans, what is it?" Jürgen demanded.

"The sea is angry," Hans answered. Jürgen frowned and looked out the window. He pursed his lips. Hmm, it was getting pretty rough at that. Suddenly the cabin door was flung open. "Prince Jürgen!" the crew member began. There was a scream. The crewman spun, gasping. "Captain!" he exclaimed, racing in and slamming the door just as a wall of water struck it from behind. Jürgen was up in a second. "My Prince, we're taking on heavy water! We need you up there!"

"Go, I'm coming!" Jürgen ordered. "Hans, stay put and out of my way," he ordered, glaring at his brother. "I don't need the trouble you'll cause up on deck."

"You're leaving me?!" Hans demanded.

"Don't be such a baby, Hans! God you're pathetic! Just try and sleep!" Jürgen yelled, racing out of the cabin and shutting the door behind him. Hans gasped, jumping into Jürgen's bed and huddling under the covers fearfully. He heard men screaming in horror and heard the waves battering the ship. Thunder cracked loudly, and lighting, and the whole thing seemed to creak and groan like at any second it was going to split apart! He closed his eyes, trying to tune it all out.

Frozen

Jürgen desperately fought to keep the ship holding its own in the storm, but the weather was getting too violent to be safe! He had ordered the sailors to tie themselves down so they wouldn't be washed overboard. If he played this right they might be able to ride the storm out. The waves were big, but not too big to handle. Yet. But they were fast becoming that way. He kept the ship facing them at an angle. He couldn't under any circumstance let it go broadside, or they were done for. Of all the times to send Hans with him on a sea voyage, father had to pick this one. Typically in line with his luck.

"Prince Jürgen, why are we doing nothing?!" one of his crewmen exclaimed. It confused him why the prince wasn't calling for more risky maneuvers to be taken. Usually he went all in, in weather such as this, because at this stage it was do or die and possibly die anyway. He was being so careful. The maneuvers being used were the safest decisions, perhaps, but in this situation risk might be better. Why was he being this cautious?

Jürgen was silent, expression grim and set. "It's safer to try and ride it," he answered.

"That isn't like you, your highness!" the crewman exclaimed.

Jürgen shot him a sharp glare. "No? Well I've never had a child on board to worry about," he answered. The crewman started. He had almost forgotten about the young Prince Hans! That must be why Prince Jürgen was playing it safe. He didn't press for more dangerous maneuvers again. Jürgen had tuned out any other suggestions now, intent on keeping the ship afloat.

Frozen

Hans, meanwhile, was whimpering below. He screamed as the ship jolted, getting thrown from the bed. He 'oomphed' in pain and gasped fearfully. He scrambled up. He didn't want to be here anymore! He ran to the door but paused. Jürgen said to stay put. He shifted uneasily. He didn't want to stay put, though! He frowned, thinking. He finally whimpered, backing away from the door. Jürgen knew what he was doing. If he said stay here, he meant stay here. There must be a reason for it. Well, besides his big brother not wanting him in his way. Hans curled up against the wall, burying his head in his knees.

"Prince Jürgen, the storm is lessening. Perhaps now will be a good time to check on your brother," a crewman said.

"You think I care. How sweet," Jürgen replied, scoffing. "Let him cry it out. I have no interest in checking on Hans. If he's in the cabin, he's fine."

"Even if you do not go to check on your brother, you should go get some more rest," the crewman protested.

"I'm seeing this through, my friend," Jürgen answered in a slightly gentler tone.

There was suddenly a horrified scream. "Captain, a giant wave!" another person hollered in terror. Jürgen spun quickly. His eyes slowly widened and his lips parted. No… No! There was no maneuver in the world, now, that would save them. Not with this short of notice.

"Be ready to cut yourselves free!" Jürgen ordered. The ship was going down. He didn't need his men dragged down to the depths with it because they couldn't cut themselves out of the ropes. The wave struck. The ship splintered. Men screamed and hung on as it snapped in half. It began to go down as the wave broke. More continued slamming the doomed ship. Jürgen held on frantically. He watched as some men fell into the ocean, likely to never be seen again. For some, he inwardly hoped all and that no life would be lost, their ropes were still holding them. That was something, at least, buying them a little more time. Time? Time?! Terror gripped him. They were all going to die! There was no denying that now.

Suddenly a ship appeared on the horizon, coming towards them. Jürgen lit up. A ship from Arendelle! They must have seen the distress and had come to help! They were saved! Hopefully. Considering the ship from Arendelle didn't sink as well, but Arendelle's fleets were well built and strong, designed to withstand the most powerful of Nordic storms. They had to be to survive. His men were cheering and Jürgen sighed in relief.

Frozen

The men had all been pulled aboard the Arendelle ship, Jürgen going last. He sighed again, holding the railing tightly. Thank god the sea was calming down. The back part of the ship was just sinking under the waves. Everyone was off. "Your highness, are you and Hans alright?" a crewman of his ship asked him.

Jürgen stiffened, blanching. Hans! He screamed a string of very un-princely curses loudly, freaking out. Hans was still in the ship's cabin! Dammit, dammit, dammit! He was a dead man if he came back without that boy! Wait… It could be chalked up to an accident, nothing he could have done. Mother's crown jewel would be no more and there would be one less thorn in his side. He should let the kid die… And every word he was saying to himself rang like a bigger and bigger joke or lie. Before even he knew what he was doing, he was up on the railing of the ship.

"Jürgen!" his men called. He tuned them out and dove overboard, neatly breaking the water. He swam downwards frantically. He could see the sinking ship. Dammit, he couldn't reach! He powerfully cut through the water, reaching the windows. Where was Hans? Had he been swept out? No, no, no, this couldn't be happening; not now, not to him! Suddenly something slammed into the window, making Jürgen almost have a heart attack. Of course he almost had one anyway on realizing who it was. Hans! The little boy's hands were pounding desperately against the glass. The water seeping into the cabin was almost full up. Soon there would be no more air for Hans to breathe!

Jürgen placed his hand automatically against the glass where his brother's was. He swam away. He could have sworn he heard Hans shriek his name. Probably fearing he was leaving him to die. Jürgen swam around the ship and to where the door of the cabin was. He pulled. The pressure in the cabin, it seemed, was enough that the door opened without much protest. Water gushed in. He heard his sibling scream. He swam into the cabin, cursing the speed the ship was sinking at. He looked around in the water and saw Hans there, holding his breath. Jürgen felt his own lungs screaming for air. He might be the one who wouldn't make it, he realized. And for what? The thirteenth brother? He could have laughed at himself. He swam directly to Hans, grabbing him in his arms and squeezing him. He tied a rope around Hans then around himself so he wouldn't lose the weaker swimmer.

Jürgen and Hans swam out of the cabin and headed back towards the surface. He wasn't going to make it, Jürgen realized. Well, Hans would, but he wouldn't. He pointed upwards to Hans, urging him to speed up. Hans did so, getting ahead of him. Jürgen subtly drew his knife and severed the rope tying them together. This way if he drowned, Hans wouldn't sink with him. Little bastard. Hah! If he didn't know better he would say this was an early play of Hans's to up his chances of getting the throne. Wouldn't that be amusing? He felt his lungs aching for air. He saw colors passing in front of his eyes. He wasn't going to make it. He was already slowing down, Hans far ahead. He grasped his throat, unable to hold out anymore. He looked up towards the surface. It was so close… But he would never reach it. He let go, air expelling from his lungs… And then a small hand was covering his nose and mouth. His eyes flew open as he struggled, wanting it just to end. Hans?!

The little boy wasn't sure what made him turn before he reached the surface, but he had, and what he saw would probably haunt him forever. His brother had stopped swimming and was grasping his throat. Jürgen was drowning! Hans realized, then, just how much longer his brother had been without air than he had. It was a miracle the older one has held on so long. Jürgen was going to drown! Hans broke the surface. "Help!" he screamed before diving back under and swimming for Jürgen. As his big brother was expelling the air from his lungs, Hans reached him and covered his mouth and nose. Jürgen began trying to push him away. Hans didn't know why. Suddenly two other crew members swam down, taking Jürgen and swimming upwards with him. Hans swam after them and all four broke the surface. Quickly they were hauled up onto the deck of the Arendelle ship.

Frozen

Jürgen was passed out. He wasn't breathing! His men were trying to revive him. Hans watched in terror. Suddenly Jürgen began to cough and choke. They sat him up, letting water expel from his lungs. "Jürgen!" Hans exclaimed hopefully, jerking free and running to his coughing brother.

"Get away from me!" Jürgen shrieked at Hans, viciously shoving him back and down. Hans 'oomphed' in pain and looked at his brother in shock. What had he done? Why had Jürgen pushed him? He thought that if he saved his brother Jürgen would love him, not push him away!

"Jürgen?" Hans squeaked.

"You!" Jürgen furiously said, voice laced with hatred. "You stay as far away from me as you can possibly get, you little plague! Worthless jinx, don't even come near me!"

"What did I do?!" Hans screamed desperately, despair in his voice.

"Shut up! Shut up or I will personally throw you back in that sea you damn blight!" Jürgen yelled. He suddenly took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. "Keep Prince Hans away from me. Far, far, far away," he dangerously ordered one of his shocked men who were gaping in disbelief at the older Prince's reaction.

"Jürgen, what did I do wrong?!" Hans begged to know.

"You were born!" Jürgen snapped. Hans withered back. Jürgen left him behind. Hans burst into tears.

Jürgen watched his brother crying from far away. He felt only bitterness, no pity. At least he thought it was bitterness. He felt his mouth quiver. He told himself it was because he had nearly died saving the worthless pest. He turned away from his crying sibling, looking back at the place where the ship had gone down. He watched sulkily. Why had he snapped, he wondered? What had he said? Hans was right. What had the child done wrong? Nothing, Jürgen realized… Nothing… No. Not nothing. The child had frightened him half to death; that was the error Prince Hans had made. He had nearly lost Hans… That would have been a disaster back at home, he told himself; but to be honest, when he had seen Hans in the window, fear of the rage of the advisors and whatnot had been the last thing on his mind… Fear of the emotions losing Hans might bring about in him, though… That was another matter. He feared he would realize, upon Hans's death, things he didn't ever want to even think about… He feared he would feel pain and grief… He feared realizing he had cared…

Present Day

Moren came back to himself, trying to block out the memories of that story Jürgen had told. While crying and not understanding why. He could remember a million other times such things had happened with them. It didn't matter now. That time and place was done. He rose. "I must deliver the news," he said.

"He won't receive you kindly, Moren. He hates you more than he hates even me," Jürgen cautioned.

"Let him hate me," Moren answered, walking off to the healing room. Jürgen followed with a sigh. Just in case.

Frozen

Hans was sleeping when Moren arrived with Jürgen. Mael was reading a book of poetry and sitting not far off in case something should go wrong and force his hand in saving the youngest prince. Because he had saved Hans so well in the past, Mael dryly told himself. "How is he?" Moren questioned.

"Surviving," Mael said. "It is all any of us ever do. Survive."

Jürgen shook his head hopelessly at Mael's doom and gloom attitude, then went to his sibling to see what he was reading. Moren, for his part, turned attention to Hans. "Hans, wake up," he said, going to his brother and shaking his shoulder. Hans groaned in protest. "Wake up," Moren said a little louder, shaking him slightly firmer.

Hans grimaced and opened one eye in annoyance. "What?" he questioned coldly. Of all the brothers to show up, it had to be Moren. He supposed that was in line with his luck lately.

"News has come from Arendelle. The Queen has acquitted you of the punishment of death for your crimes. However, we are not through with you yet, and you have yet to go back and face trial and alternate sentencing there," Moren said.

Hans sat bolt upright and cried out in pain. Moren quickly pushed him back down as Mael shot the youngest prince a disapproving look. He had warned Hans many times already not to move quickly. This served the young man right. He glared at Moren too, however, for saying something so bluntly that Hans was shocked enough to ignore previous warnings to lie still.

"Acquitted?!" Hans demanded.

"Yes. Your little plot worked, brother. A foolhardy plan nonetheless," Moren answered.

"At least this time it was good enough," Hans retorted, glaring over at Jürgen. Jürgen, flipping through a tome, paused and tensed up. After a moment he bowed his head and put the tome down, glaring back at Hans then leaving. "And typical with the way things are in this family. Rely on yourself to save yourself, isn't that right, big brother? Perish forbid you ever step in. It may upset our trading partners and allies. Perish forbid anyone else ever steps in, for that matter; but then they learned it from someone. You're the best big brother role model ever," Hans said, scoffing and looking away from Moren coldly. He couldn't look at the man for more than a few moments without feeling disgust. Might have something to do with why he tended to avoid mirror gazing. In some aspects of Moren he saw himself, but then that was so with all of his brothers. In the eldest, however, Hans also saw himself in appearance. He looked more like his eldest sibling than any of the others. Every time he looked in a mirror, it was Moren he saw and he hated it.

You're lying to yourself, you know that isn't why…

Hans grimaced and erased that thought. Moren was silent. "Mael, leave us," he commanded. Mael looked warily up and didn't move for a moment. Soon, though, he rose and left in accordance with the command of the eldest.

Frozen

Hans pretended to be fascinated with his fingernails. Hmm, they could use a neating up actually, he dryly noted. "One on one time, hmm? First time in ever," Hans said to his brother, still not looking at him.

"You hate me," Moren remarked.

"You could say that," Hans answered. "No more than you hate me."

"I don't hate you," Moren replied.

"Hah! Likely story," Hans answered.

"Why? Why do you hate me?" Moren questioned.

"Because you disgust me. So weak, so easily swayed. It's a marvel the Southern Isles haven't been destroyed yet under your reign. When will you make us slaves to another nation, I wonder?" Hans asked.

"That is why I disgust you, perhaps, but you have yet to answer why you hate me. Surely because I disgust you isn't enough to have put this wedge between us," Moren said.

"There was never anything to put a wedge in," Hans muttered.

"Yes there was. You just can't remember," his brother answered. Hans's eyes glittered dangerously. "Is it the way I govern that appalls you? Do you think I was swayed by Jürgen into ordering your death after I'd promised I would do all I could to ensure you stayed alive?"

"Think? You did!" Hans sharply shot.

"If I had believed for a second that he would have gone through with it, I never would have given him the task or his way," Moren replied. Which, admittedly, was more a half-truth, but still.

"That is no excuse!" Hans shot. "What if you had been wrong, huh?!"

"You weren't the only one who needed to learn a lesson, Hans. He did too," Moren replied.

"A likely excuse. You. Are. Weak. Even when you do judge of your own mind, your judgements are harsh and cruel and merciless!"

"This coming from the man who would have slaughtered an innocent queen and her sister to gain the throne of an allied land?" Moren bit.

"Innocent? Humph. There is no such thing as innocence," Hans bit. "I did it because for once I wanted to be good enough. For once I wanted to be the one to bring my family, my brothers, pride. Couldn't help that it backfired on me. The fool princess had to go get her queen sister angry then promptly go get herself accidentally cursed by the queen afterwards. I was exposed even if I did kiss her to melt her freezing heart," Hans said.

"You should have stayed and made sure she died," Moren remarked.

"I knew you had a cruel streak in you," Hans bitterly replied, smirking icily. He scowled. "Always good, never good enough."

"Don't make this about us, Hans, don't you dare. You screwed up and you can't stand the fact that you were caught," Moren said.

"You're resorting to taking giant leaps for an answer as to why I did what I did. Pathetic. I did it because I could. I did it because I wanted to finally be noticed instead of neglected," Hans replied. Lie, half-truth. It seemed lies and half-truths were all he spoke nowadays. He hated that knowing as much brought him some measure of disgust. He would much rather speak in brash ignorance than know full well he what he was saying and realize how twisted some of it was. "I stood no chance for the throne. Everyone knew it. Probably why I was also the most easily forgotten."

"We're doing this here? Now? This age old sob story? Father didn't love me, mother ignored me, my siblings bullied me, etc. After Justic none of you stood a chance," Moren replied. "After the triplets none of you were remembered," he added, waving a hand dismissively. "You weren't the only one who suffered."

"But I was the only one with the guts to do something about it," Hans replied.

"You were the only one recklessly ambitious enough to!" Moren bit.

Frozen

Hans was stunned silent by the retort. "Bastard," he finally spat.

"Coming from the only true bastard son in the brood?" Moren shot back. He regretted the words immediately. He was 38. He should be above these petty sibling spats and childish insults.

"You son of a bi... dog!" Hans shouted, rising despite the pain and drawing his sword. "I was as much father's child as any of you, by blood, and you know it!"

"You call me a son of a dog? Hmm, first correct statement you've made thus far," Moren shot back. "You can't take another fight in your condition, brother. Put the sword down."

"Dangerously the two brothers paced around each other. "You call our mother such a thing?" Hans growled, responding to what Moren had just implied. "She did everything for you!"

"Father did everything for me! To mother I was nothing anymore! I would have died to be in your place in her eyes! Her favorite, her crown prince. She despised me! Father was the one who cared for my well-being."

"Yeah, Moren, he cared for your well-being. Yours and no one else's!" Hans shot. "I would have died to have him love me so much! To have him even acknowledge me!"

"He loved you, he loved you, I've heard it a thousand times from Duach on down through you," Moren practically snarled, his own sword drawn now as he sensed this was becoming no more a sibling spat, but a genuine threat. "He loved me well, yes, but he did not love me as a son!"

"What does that even mean?!" Hans demanded.

"I wasn't his son. I was his heir!" Moren snapped. "Whether or not you believe it, they aren't the same thing."

"Woe to you that he spoiled you, like people tend to mollycoddle the next in line," Hans bit sarcastically.

Moren suddenly raised his hand to backhand his sibling. Hans caught his breath, bracing for the impact. It never came. Moren had gotten a hold of his temper again. He forced himself to take a breath then glared loathingly at Hans. "Mollycoddled… That is what you believe, is it?" What most of you believe…" he murmured.

Hans raised an eyebrow curiously. What else could it be? And really what did he care? "Don't tell me anything more," Hans said. "Please, don't tell me any more… I don't want to hear your excuses."

Moren fell silent. "I'm sorry," he finally said.

"No you aren't," Hans answered. "Don't play this game like suddenly you care."

"I have always cared," Moren said. Hans sharply laughed. Moren looked down and to the side. "In time you will come to understand and see, I pray," he added. "Hate me all you will, Hans. I have suffered your hate for years now. I can suffer it a bit longer." Hans stayed still, not moving.