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(A/N: A chapter went up a few days ago for those who missed it.)

Yuwabe

"Elsa, Hans, Kristoff, Olaf, and Anna, with their two infants, made their way towards the palace of Queen Maghereb. "Before we go far, there are some things you need to know," Elsa said to Hans. "Queen Maghereb has a reputation for being… mysterious."

"But she really isn't. She's totally cool," Anna chirped.

"However, she likes to keep up that appearance to others, whether in court or conducting business," Elsa said.

"She only lets the fun side of her out when she's not working or under scrutiny," Anna added. "Look at this place! Africa is beautiful! She thought Arendelle was spectacular?"

"You kind of take things for granted when you live surrounded by them," Kristoff replied with a smirk. "Not everything, but a lot of it. Europe is humdrum for you two, you've seen it day in day out all your lives, but it's foreign and exotic to her. Same with Africa. Just another day in the life to her, but completely new to us."

"True. My brothers and I were bowled over by the Arabian desert and its endless expanse. Aladdin called it a dustbin, in so many words," Hans said. "Mozenrath implied it was a glorified litterbox, more or less."

"I love Africa!" Olaf exclaimed. "I hope we stay a while."

"A week or two maybe, though it might end up being a month-long trip overall," Elsa said. "Now everyone show the Queen the utmost respect and don't embarrass her."

"Treat her like the royal she is?" Hans teased.

Elsa frowned then sighed. "I'm sorry. I know I'm stating the redundant, but I just want to make a good impression on her," she said. "I didn't do a great job at it when she first came to Arendelle. I don't want to screw up a visit to Yuwabe too."

"Nightingale, you'll do fine," Hans promised.

"She did fine," Olaf corrected. "Maghereb really liked her and Anna."

"See?" Hans teased. He looked towards the palace and lowly whistled. "That's something," he said.

"Here goes nothing. Our answers are waiting for us in there," Anna said.

Frozen

"Queen Elsa, Princess Anna," Queen Maghereb greeted with a pleasant smile, taking their hands as they arrived.

"We're honored, Maghereb," Elsa replied with a smile of her own. "You've met Kristoff and Olaf, I believe. Let me introduce you to my own consort now, Prince Admiral Hans Westergaard, of the Southern Isles."

"The Southern Isles?" Maghereb said with a concerned frown.

"Its reputation precedes it, I see," Hans dryly said. "Things have markedly improved since my father's rule of that place. My brother Caleb hasn't slacked in trying to better it."

Maghereb nodded in understanding and saw the infants. She started, a little surprised. "Oh, who are these?" she asked.

Elsa smiled, looking at them. "The little girl is my sister's daughter Gerda. The little boy is my son Kay," she said.

"Gerda is adopted," Olaf said.

"But no less loved," Anna added.

"Of course not," Maghereb said with a smile. Her expression became serious once more. "Come. I will show you to your guest rooms and then we will speak in my study of the matter you wrote of in your letter."

"Agreed," Elsa answered, nodding. Maghereb smiled again and signaled her attendants to lead her guests to their rooms. As soon as they had settled in, the family went to meet Maghereb in the study.

The Queen was standing before a window looking somewhat reminiscently out of it. "Your Majesty?" Anna asked, taking the lead.

Maghereb turned and gave them a tired and somewhat strained smile. "Come. Sit," she said, gesturing to the seating around her. They did so. "Summarize once more why you wrote to me," she said.

"We're seeking information on a white man of noble or rich birth who fell in love with an African woman and conceived a child with her," Elsa said.

"Why?" Maghereb asked.

"The details are need to know," Hans said. "But it's absolutely imperative we find him as soon as we possibly can. He may be in grave danger. He has friends on the British Islands, allies of ours, who are fearful for his safety and absolutely must know what became of him and where he is. It could be a matter of life and death."

She was quiet, considering the situation and deciding whether 'need to know' was a pleasing enough remark to her that she would grace them with answers. Finally, she sighed. "I wish you would explain more to me of this man, but I suppose you have explained enough." She looked up at them. "I know of such a man."

"You do?" Elsa hopefully asked, perking up a bit.

Maghereb solemnly nodded. "Yes," she said. She looked uncomfortably around as if half expecting an eavesdropper to be listening in. "We should go for a ride in your icy sleigh, Queen Elsa. Away from the palace."

Elsa frowned in concern. "Why?" she asked.

Maghereb sighed in frustration, running her fingers through her hair. "That man is not to be spoken of here," she lowly murmured to them.

"Was he guilty of some crime heinous enough to be considered a forbidden topic?" Hans asked in disbelief.

"We should go for a ride. Now," Maghereb said.

The others exchanged unsettled looks before rising. "As you wish, majesty," Elsa said. Maghereb nodded and rose as well, following them outside. Elsa crafted her sleigh adn they all boarded it. The African Queen didn't speak again until they were some distance away from her palace and the greater portion of the populace. Finally, she turned to them.

"This is not my story. It is the story of my aunt, of the man she dared to love, and of the grief spawned by their forbidden passions. His name was Pelleore," she began, and they listened in stunned attention as she told them the story…

Of Pelleore

"Pelleore was a man of noble birth, though he held no royal title. He was wealthy and handsome but possessed a promiscuous and flighty heart. When he came to Yuwabe, he was a bachelor who sought little more than fame and adventure wherever he went. Until he met my aunt… He was smitten by her the first time he laid eyes upon her. Immediately he postponed his travels and diverted all efforts to winning her heart. He did not care that he was white and she was black, she used to say that she was not even sure he processed the distinction, but everyone else did.

Sir Pelleore was despised, and when my aunt proclaimed her intention to make him her husband, her siblings threatened to renounce and abandon her. My grandmother threatened to disown her and told her that if she took him as her lover, she would awaken the wrath of her dead father who would curse her for her erroneous love; for what right did a white man—though a far unkinder term was used—have marrying among our nation? It was wrong. He did not belong. He was not one of us. Many crueler things were said besides, and he was utterly scorned. For her love of him, my aunt joined him in such scorn until finally, she could take it no more.

When she could no longer bear the poisonous speech, she went to him in tears and told him everything that had been said. He strengthened and encouraged her and vowed undying love, and stole her away to a place where they could be married in secret. When they returned, she would act as if she had broken off the engagement. He would follow her back to Yuwabe and remain there as if trying to win her back. If he had to, he was willing to pretend as much for the rest of their days. He claimed that he could endure the scorn and hate that would come upon him for his audacity, but that she did not have to. She agreed to his mad, impetuous plan and wed him, and took him into her bed.

In time she became pregnant by him, much sooner than she would have liked. They had never meant to conceive. They had done everything they knew how, to prevent it, even down to eating foods said to discourage fertility, but it had never been a guarantee. When she learned of her condition, she panicked. She did not know what to do and so went to him and told him she was with child. He told her to wait until she was near her third trimester, then slip away under the guise of an extended trip and give birth in secret. Then either the child could live with him, or they could give it up for adoption. She did not approve of the idea but accepted it nonetheless, for she knew it was their only choice. Things do not always work out as perfectly as is planned, though. She was discovered and betrayed…

Enraged, her family seized her and locked her away, intent on putting her and the child within her to death. Then her lover as well. In the meantime, Sir Pelleore received news of his own. Shortly before he traveled to Africa and met my aunt, his adventures had taken him to the Americas where he had sojourned with a woman of noble birth who had given him her heart. Sir Pelleore lusted quickly and believed it was love. Scoundrel he was, he took that woman into his bed and filled her with child, though he did not know this when he left her behind. True, when he left he intended to return and fulfill his promise to her, but upon arriving in Yuwabe and meeting its queen, he forgot the other woman and his heart set upon my aunt. Now, though, the first woman had written him to tell him she was heavy with child. She begged him to return to her and fulfill the vow he had given so that she would not be shamed and scorned and cast out, and he did not know what to do.

When he went to disgracefully confess to his wife his guilt, he learned of what had befallen her. His warrior's heart was spurred to action, and he raced to rescue her; but as he was about to ride upon her prison, prepared to slaughter whoever stood in his way, he realized there was a way he could turn the matter in his favor. There would not have to be bloodshed, he could save my aunt, he could save the reputation of the other woman, and most selfishly of all he could save himself. He was a thoughtless sort of man…

Despite the egotistic nature of the plan, there was no denying that the course of action he set out to take was by far the best option left to them. It was not the kindest or the most sympathetic, but it was the safest and most logical. He went to his lover's mother and siblings and struck a bargain. If they would let her and her child live, he would divorce her and leave and never again return to Yuwabe. He would wash his hands of all of it. They could marry her to a man of their choosing and pass the child off as his. Though her family was enraged with her, they were still her family. They still loved her. They agreed to the bargain and told him to leave. He would not be able to say goodbye, he would not even be able to see her. He was just to go and never come back.

It broke his heart, my mother once told me. She remembered clearly the grief and pain in his eyes when he was given his ultimatum, but he knew it was all he could do anymore. After he was certain they had held up their end of the bargain and set her free, he left. He boarded a boat and sailed away to return to the other woman and keep his vow to her.

My aunt was heartbroken, when she heard of his leaving, and became consumed by grief. My mother, though, took pity on her sister and regretted her part in the matter, so went to her and told her what he had done for her sake. What they had made him do. The truth only shattered her more… She took another man as her husband, a marriage to hide her transgression more than a marriage of love, and she bore her child in peace. A son. But there was no hiding that he was not wholly of our race.

He sported the anglo features of his father. He was piebald, skin consisting of white and black patches, an abnormality known as vitiligo, but grandmother, seeing that abnormality, hated him more and claimed his condition was proof of his parentage, calling his appearance cursed so that his very existence would stand testament to his mother's lies and her perverted love for a man that was not of her own. My aunt's husband was indifferent to the child and in fact somewhat cold.

Some years passed, then one afternoon there was an attack on the village. Ships of men from the shores of the Americas or Europe, I am not sure which, pulled onto the beaches and disembarked with cries of war, weapons drawn. Many of my people were killed, my siblings and parents included, and most of my aunts and uncles as well. More still were taken captive. Those who escaped hid away, rage and fear consuming them. Grandmother saw opportunity, and she turned that rage and fear on the child…

She marched up to him before them all and seized his arm, tearing him from his mother's grasp and pulling him into their midst, dangling him in the air as he wept and cried pitifully out for help that would not come. She claimed again that he was a curse brought upon the womb and upon the rest of us as well, a sign of her dead husband's wrath. She said that as long as he lived among us, we would never be safe. She riled the people against him until they shouted for his murder or abandonment. His mother tried to tear her child from her mother's arms, fighting desperately to keep her infant. She begged and pled and wept, but no one would hear her cries. It was her husband who finally pulled her away from her little boy and threw her to the ground. She struck her head on a rock and was knocked unconscious. He turned to the boy and his grandmother coldly, but there was still some small amount of pity in his heart for the child, and when my grandmother drew a knife to slit the little one's throat, he snatched the boy from her arms, lifted him high in the air, and said to them all that if the child was a curse, who deserved to be smitten by that curse more than the men who had massacred and captured our people?

He took the child and went with my grandmother to meet the invaders. The boy screamed and begged for what remained of his people to help. They would not hear him and watched pitilessly as he was taken away. His stepfather and grandmother brought the little child to where the men were. The men saw them coming and came to seize them, but instead, my aunt's husband offered them the sobbing, terrified child. The helpless boy would be the price paid for the hostiles to leave our shores. The men, though, were as treacherous as my grandmother, and no sooner had they taken the boy when they killed his grandmother and stepfather both and brought the little one onto their ship. They sailed away with him never to return again…

Forevermore the child was branded a curse, among the people of Yuwabe, and his father before him an even worse one so that any mentions of them were forbidden from that day forth. If anyone were to bring the matter up again, they would be as ostracized as my aunt had been. My aunt who, when she came to, awakened childless and widowed. Her cries of grief filled the ears of her people who only scoffed and said it was for the best and that soon she would realize as much for herself. They left her broken and weeping in the dirt, and only I, orphaned and without any family say for her, stayed. I stayed and watched her weep until there were no more tears for her to shed…"

Frozen

As she closed out the tale, her guests let out soft breaths. "Wow," Kristoff said.

"That's so sad!" Anna exclaimed.

"Sad? It's horrible!" Elsa said in shock, her grip on her son considerably tighter. Even the thought of such a thing befalling her child or Gerda… She didn't want to imagine it.

"At least we know for a certainty now that Pelleore returned to the Americas," Hans said. "Likely his child was brought there too."

"Do you think he ever would have found the kid?" Kristoff asked in concern.

"There were some among the people who had been secretly sympathetic towards my aunt and her plight. They came together and wrote a letter to the man their queen had once loved, to tell him all that had happened and about the fate of his child. They thought that perhaps then there could still be a chance for the little one to be rescued. I do not know for a certainty if Sir Pelleore ever found his son, but I know for a certainty he received the letter. I do not know if he understood the language it was written in, but I know for certain that his son was able to decipher it. His first son. The one born of the woman he left behind in the Americas then returned for later. I know because that son came to Yuwabe many years later, still a youth or as good as one. He came, and I, fool that I was, made the same mistake as my aunt…"

The sleigh came to an abrupt halt as the shock of the words washed over the others. Maghereb sniffed, looking woefully at the children again. She drew a deep breath, forcing herself to meet the eyes of her guests.

"I was seventeen when he came. He was about the same age as I. He arrived and something about him seemed so familiar, but I could not place it. His presence brought unease. Most avoided him, but it was more than just the color of his skin that caused them to. I was more intrigued than off-put, determined to find answers as to why he seemed familiar and why I felt like it was important I figure it out. When my aunt saw him, she grew pale and fainted dead away without warning. The guards hurried to her side and spirited her off to her room, leaving me to entertain and take care of our guest. I welcomed him cautiously. He was careful as well. For a week we danced around each other. My aunt would not come out of hiding and so he remained my responsibility. Finally, I managed to arrange a private supper with him. It was he and I with guards standing just outside in case something should happen. Gradually I built up the courage to ask him why he had seen fit to come to Yuwabe. It seemed to me that he himself had no idea why he was here or what he was seeking. He appeared lost. Like he was looking for something, yes, but was not sure where to start. He told me, then, that his father had been here once before, and it took only those words for me to begin to suspect who he was. He told me he was looking for answers about what happened to the man in this place, because every time he asked about Yuwabe, his father would never speak of it. Instead, he avoided the topic or walked away or changed the subject or even strictly forbade his son from asking further questions, but he never gave an answer. I asked him if he was looking for something specific," the queen said.

"Was he?" Anna asked.

"Yes," she answered. "He told me was searching for a brother he suspected he had here. I asked him why he thought such a thing, and he told me an all too familiar story. He told me his father had fallen in love, once upon a time, with an African queen and made himself her husband in secret, but that they were discovered and he was driven out, forced to abandon her to ensure she lived. Though his father had told him none of this, he had inferred it from a letter he had found hidden away in his father's papers that was written in a language he hadn't recognized. He told me that asking around had yielded answers, and he had learned that in that letter was mention of a marriage to a queen that ended in tragedy, and remarks about a son born to him by that queen. A son who had been taken away and sold into slavery. There had been no mention of where or when or how or who, and his father had not been forthcoming, so he had snuck away to Yuwabe for himself to seek answers about this missing brother he had not even known existed. He did not tell his father where he was going, just commandeered some of Pelleore's men and set out. He expected fully he would be punished as severely as could be gotten away with when he returned, for his reckless little adventure. He said it with a laugh, but his smile was strained and pinched. He told me that perhaps, though, if he could find his mysterious lost sibling, it would all be worth it. I was so drawn to him. To his smile, to his laugh, and most of all to the lengths he was willing to go to, though only a boy, to find and rescue a brother he had not even known existed until he read that letter. What he was willing to do to find a perfect stranger tied to him only half by blood… It touched me, and so I told him I had known the boy that he spoke of."

"Did you tell him what you told us?" Anna asked.

"Not immediately. I was more wary back then of people with pale skin," she answered. "My scars ran deep. The things I witnessed them do, the pain they seemed to bring whenever they came… I said nothing more. He asked me to tell him about his brother. He begged me to. I told him to stay for a little while, and the next day I would tell him more. I had to sort out my thoughts, speak to my aunt, and decide what I would share and what I would keep quiet. When I went to find my aunt that night, though, she was not there. She had fled with no indication of when she would come back, so once more I was left alone to handle the matter for myself. The next day I met the youth for breakfast. He asked me again to tell him about his brother. I told him that the boy had been like a magpie in appearance. Unique and beautiful to see. A child who possessed the facial features of his father's race. A child with black skin broken up by patches of white… I watched the smile fade from the young man's lips… I watched him become paler than he already was. He looked stunned and sick, then breathed a name."

"What name?" Elsa asked, engrossed in this tale.

"Meliodam," she said. "It was not a name you would hear often. He looked stricken and wounded. He looked as though he had just been betrayed, and my heart softened towards him. I asked him if he was alright. He was honest and told me he was not. He wanted to know what had happened in that time. He wanted to know everything, so against my better judgement, I told him in secret, as I have done for you now, the whole story. We spoke of it as we walked. The story grieved him, that was plain enough to see, and he looked so hurt… I could almost feel his heartbreak. I told him that if his father had not shared the information with him, it was likely for a good reason. He was not convinced it was, but thanked me for my sympathy and understanding and kindness. He thanked me also for my hospitality but said it was perhaps best he return home soon. I… I did not want him to go. I was curious about him. He was the first link to the man who had loved my aunt that I could freely speak to, and I wanted to know everything. I pled for him to stay so that we could share stories and learn more about our shared link. I told him it would give him time to decide what he was going to say to his father, when he went back home, and he agreed.

A week turned into a month, then two, and by then I realized, as did he, that we had become my aunt and his father in our own rights. We knew, then, that he had to leave, but we were young and there was no accounting for forbidden romance. I was less careful than my aunt had been, more stupid, and gave myself to him before marriage. He promised that once he had sorted things out at home, he would return. I reminded him what had happened when his father had chosen to stay in Yuwabe. He told me that he was not his father, and I was not my aunt. He said he would run away with me to another part of Africa where we could live our lives together free of the stigma of a curse that never was. He suggested even that perhaps in time we could smooth things over here so we could be together in Yuwabe without me having to leave my home country behind. Blinded by love and desire, I accepted his words. He left to return to his father…"

"He didn't come back, did he?" Anna asked softly.

"No," she answered, shaking her head. "I should have known he would not. His father would not have allowed it. That was something we had neglected to take into account, and even if Pelleore had allowed it, there would have been no future for us. Not in this lifetime. In a past one perhaps, but not this one."

"A past one?" Elsa asked, attention peaking at the turn of phrase.

"Forgive me. I am not sure where that came from," she said, frowning a little in confusion. "Whatever the case of things, something happened that ensured he could never come back, but I had become pregnant, and I grew scared. I confessed my condition to my aunt. She grew pale and alarmed. She gave me money and urged me to run away from Yuwabe and go anywhere else, since I could not risk giving birth to the child here. In secret, I chose to make for the Americas where I knew he was. It was among the most daring things I had ever done. I understood there was a chance I could never return home, but I was so in love with him that…" She trailed off and let out a shaky breath, hanging her head. "It made sense at the time," she quietly said.

"I take it that things didn't go as smoothly as you hoped?" Hans said.

"Actually, they went surprisingly smoothly," she answered, looking up again. "At least at first. When I found him, we were overcome with joy. As soon as our reunion had completed, I explained to him my condition and told him I could not give birth in Yuwabe. He was deeply concerned, a little afraid, and smuggled me quickly to a house situated on his father's lands that his father had promised him when he was older. There he kept me secret until I was ready to give birth, but Vale and I were young and stupid and careless, blinded by our fondness for each other and unable to see ahead to everything that could go wrong. When I went into labour, the both of us realized there would be no doctor or midwife to aid me, and the both of us knew how dangerous that could be. In a panic, he rode to his father and confessed everything. His father was enraged, but nonetheless hurried with him back to the house, bringing along the midwives that his own wife had had for her pregnancies. They were stunned at what they saw, but the shock was put aside in favor of ensuring my survival and my child's, and within twelve hours Vale held our screaming infant in his arms in shock and disbelief. He held him only briefly before his father snatched the babe from him, shoved it into my arms, and all but dragged his son out by his ear in fury after swearing the midwives to secrecy and leaving me in their charge. Vale came back in with his father after some time, thoroughly cowed. His father was still fuming, gaze dark but also concerned, and the man stared at the child in my arms silently before shaking his head and walking out. My love sat at my side, holding me and the child close, and we knew the fairy tale was over…"

"You have no child at your side now," Elsa quietly said. "What happened?"

Maghereb shook her head. "I was there for many months with my infant. There was a… tense moment, when Vale's father confronted me about the darkness of the boy's skin. Darker than you have ever seen. To look at the baby you would never have expected he had a white parent at all. Even I looked pale in comparison. The Darkest of the Sons of Africa, his grandfather called him in a bitter tone, but the look in his eyes when he stared at the child… He tried to hide his adoration for his grandson, but it was clear to all who knew him that it was only a front. Vale called the baby Ian. I called him Morain. I told Sir Pelleore that I suspected Morain had inherited his skin tone from my paternal grandfather's line. Grandfather had been as dark as night - figuratively - as had his parents before him, and I suspect that perhaps even Sir Pelleore may have been in possession of some African heritage from far back in his lineage somewhere. He mentioned once that his family had a particular fondness for the African continent, often visiting it, and that he was far from the only flirt in his line. It isn't as if it was an impossibility. Those months I spent with them were some of the most content I have ever had… But I was kept away from the darker side of it all. I was foolish to think the Americas were any better than Yuwabe in their views of such affairs.

Vale came to me one night, and he told me I had to leave. Take the baby and return home. He said that his father would send a man with me who could pose as my husband. I asked him who and he told me the man was an escaped slave, one who his father had sheltered, and there was that term. Slave. I was not oblivious to what it meant, slavery was not exclusive to the Americas, but it had never cut me as deeply as it did right then. I demanded to know why he had brought up such a suggestion. He just shook his head ruefully and told me that it was better this way because…"

"Because a white man marrying a black woman and conceiving a child with her would mean nothing but pain and strife all their lives. It likely would even have put the child's life at risk. Maybe Vale's too, and the rest of his family," Hans bitterly said, shaking his head. "He was afraid for his son…"

"Pelleore was. Neither Vale nor I had even thought about that, but Pelleore…" Maghereb said before trailing off.

"That was a whole other walk in the park," Kristoff dryly said.

"He knew it first-hand. He himself had not been able to do anything for his own son except keep him a secret, because that ship had sailed in his case, but he could still do something about his grandson," Maghereb said. "The child was dark enough to pass for full Yuwabe, precious little sign of anything white in him, but I had already fled my country and given birth instead of trying to cover up my pregnancy by marrying someone of my nation. I could not have known at the time that my son would be so dark."

"We get it. You did what you had to do, and Pelleore did what he had to do, to keep you and the baby safe. You'd return to Yuwabe with a new husband and a new baby, and no one would be the wiser," Hans said.

"But we were young and stupid," she solemnly said. "I should have taken Pelleore's advice, but I begged Vale not to do it. I did not want any man but him. He told me I could not stay there either. If I did, I would be stripped of all power and for the rest of my life I would be looked down upon and degraded by the people of that nation. Neither Pelleore nor Vale wanted such a fate for me. I told him I would stay, but then Pelleore came. He told me to go home with the child and a new husband and forget any of this had ever happened. Vale could not even meet his father's eyes. He did not want to be parted from the baby or from me, but especially the baby. The thought broke his heart. I did not want to go either. When Pelleore saw no answer would be given, he sighed and left us to speak in private. As soon as I was certain he was gone, I steeled myself and it was my turn to give my love a promise that could not be kept. I told him to keep our child. I told him I would return to Yuwabe and would smooth things over with the people, and when I had done so I would send for him. He could return to me with our son, and we could be together as he had vowed before. If either of us had had any brains back then, we would have suggested the idea to his father and had some sense talked into us, but I was so angry with the man… So was Vale. We wanted him no more involved than he had already been. We were foolish teenagers who thought we could fix it alone. We should have listened to Sir Pelleore…"

"You left your child with his father, Vale and possibly some of his siblings helped you return to Africa under Pelleore's nose, and you tried to sell the idea to your aunt, but she knew from experience exactly how it would go, so she talked sense into you. Just too late… You were never able to send for Vale because to do so would mean his death and yours, and if he brought the baby… then its death too… There would be no explaining away a white man you had hosted returning to Yuwabe with a baby in his arms looking for you after you'd been gone for months. Trying to then sell the idea of an interracial marriage to your already deeply scarred and resentful subjects wasn't going to happen," Hans said.

"I should have taken the baby and, when my arguments failed, claim its father had died at sea or been killed," she answered shamefully. "But I did not, so my love was left alone with a still nursing child he could not care for or claim as his own not only for his sake, but the child's as well. I cannot bring myself to believe he got rid of our baby, but…"

"But his father had slaves. Some of which were probably married or desired to be. Some of which probably had born children into slavery and could pass off a new baby like one of their own simply enough," Hans said.

"They were not slaves. Pelleore did not keep slaves," she said.

"I feel like there's another story in there somewhere, but it sounds like we're down a deep enough rabbit hole as is," Kristoff said. "Let me guess. This means a trip to the Americas, doesn't it?"

"If we want to beat Carabis to them, yes," Elsa said. "First, though, we share this information with Sir Pelleore's compatriots and get their opinions on the matter. They may have insight into how to handle it, or insight into when to go."

"Compatriots?' Maghereb asked.

"That's another need-to-know thing," Kristoff answered with a grimace. "Trust me. It's not worth knowing unless you want to be sucked into a web probably more convoluted than the one you were in."

"Definitely more convoluted. Our web encompasses that web," Anna dryly said.

"Would being drawn into that web mean that… that perhaps I would learn what befell my cousin and child?" she asked.

Elsa and Anna were struck by the term 'cousin', their thoughts immediately going to Thord. They hadn't thought about her relationship to the unhappy child, while she'd been telling the story. Now that she had reminded them of it, it hit hard. "Yes," Elsa finally admitted.

"Then I want to know," she said, looking at the two infants in what could only be described as grief.

"Then anything you can tell us will help us in our venture," Anna said, reaching out and placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. "But it might be a while before we can confirm what happened to your baby."

"As long as I might finally have closure," she answered.

"Was your cousin not there when you went?" Anna asked.

"I did not see him," she admitted.

"That's not a good sign," Anna said, looking worriedly at the others.

"He must have found him. There's no chance he didn't. It seems to me their shared company always find one another. Always. Even against impossible odds," Hans said. "Maybe he just never crossed her path."

"When you go to the Americas, I want to go with you," Maghereb said.

"I'm not sure if that's a good id…" Hans began.

"Of course," Anna cut off. "We won't keep you from something as important to you as this."

"Thank you," Maghereb said gratefully. Hans exchanged uncertain glances with Elsa, but neither moved to protest. They would return to Arendelle in a few weeks, but in the meantime, they would write to the knights. Then it would be a waiting game to see how they wanted to handle things from here.