Diclaimer: Neither the characters nor any of the songs belong to me.

A/N: You should know before reading that the songs used in this chapter are Thai Mol Piyas (both versions) and of course, Hellfire. If you'd like to hear the songs before or while you're reading, I'm going to recommend the La Jolla version on Thai Mol Piyas found on youtube for the first song in this chapter. Later in the chapter I use about half of the official version.

Also, and maybe this is my own phone messing up, but the FFN app has been scrubbing out some of the lyrics in other chapters. I was worried that I'd have to go in and fix everything, but both online and using the mobile website everything appears to be fine.

In The Dark of The Night...

There exists even in the most bleak of realities, moments when one is able to reflect upon all of the gifts life has laid before them and see indeed there is some good. And on a night such as this, that seems to be the truth agreed upon in a debaucherous tavern known as La Pomme D'Eve. Situated at the corner of the Rue de la Rondelle and the Rue de la Batonnier, she skirts upon the fringe of Paris where the veil of night allots mystery and passion to play.

Ándo bírto zhas
Thai mol piyas
Amáre love das
Thai mol piyas

Behind her loosened door- with hinges squealing with delight- men and women, Parisian and Gypsy, rich and poor, people from many paths of life gather to shed the trappings of their names and stations and statuses all for the sake of pleasure and warmth. Here within La Pomme D'Eve's obscure walls, amongst her enigmatic air and the soft glow of her red candles, soldiers, scholars, and spouses disappear; surrendering to relief and desire- to mischief, music, and laughter even if only briefly. And within the wild candlelight gleaming against the pewter jugs adorning the walls, there dances plenty of wenches; happy to entertain the many drinkers.

Ándo bírto zhas
Thai mol piyas
Amáre love das
Thai mol piyas

~Dance~
~Dance~
~Dance~
~Dance~

Thai gilaba
Thai mol piyas

Top off the tankards- Let's have another one!
Let's drink it down and shout out in song!
We're going to drink and dance till the morning sun-
It's going to come before long!

"Another round!" Francois shouts above the cheering of the merrymakers. Of course, Francois makes sure to control his wine consumption. Even in celebration, he knows it is best to keep one's wits about themselves. And apparently, it is a lesson that his nephew has yet to learn. Currently, Alfred is dancing atop one of the tables; his cheeks red with the sort of merriment found only in the smooth, darkly-hued spirit flowing throughout La Pomme D'Eve. In regards to his other nephews; as far as Francois knew, Peter's spirit is purely a reflection of youthful energy and misconduct. The little scamp bounds here and there- leaping over chairs, stealing dances from amused girls, making faces at and teasing anyone attempting to scold him. Should anyone get too close, he would duck under the tables and rush to someone's- usually Alfred's- arms and continue to lightly tease his equally playful pursuers.

Ándo bírto zhas
Thai mol piyas
Amáre love das
Thai mol piyas

There is no shortage of clapping or joy as the revelry grows loud and lively. And yet for some peculiar reason, Matthew refuses to give in to the pleasures around him. Francois swirls his wine with a poised and artful finesse as he watches the eldest of Alice's boys futility attempt to regain control over his family.

Poor Matthew.

Instead of chasing away his troubles with the generously flowing spirits of the tavern, the exceedingly tense young man divides his time between prying discarded food and rubbish from Kumajiro's jaws, searching for Peter in a futile attempt to end his antics, and hopelessly chasing Alfred as the boy dances from table to table. However, in spite of- or perhaps because of his sobriety, the numerous merrymakers have sought to cure poor Matthew of his temperance. In his endeavors to reign in his family, many of the partiers would interrupt with toasts, with cheers, with impromptu dancing he would have no choice but to take part in, and- to no one's surprise but many amusement- with a few attempts to pick his bare pockets. Attempts that were settled with either his flute or his fist colliding with their shamelessly sloshed faces.

And yet the merriment continues.

Top off the tankards- Let's have another one!

Alfred twirls atop another table. Eyes bright, cheeks aglow, and with a gleaming smile, he captures everybody's attention.

In all the town, there's no sweeter wine!

Slinking through the cheering onlookers, Matthew finally catches up to his inebriated brother. He slings Alfred over his shoulder and whisks the giggling boy off for a scolding that shall unfortunately fall upon deaf ears.

We're going to drink and dance till oblivion-
It's going to come rain or shine!

The tavern doors open and in steps several soldiers- attracted by the music, the laughter, and the reputation of La Pomme D'Eve and her most frequent guests no doubt. "Lieutenant!" Francois calls. He could recognize that wild hair anywhere- though he rarely ever saw it outside of a tavern or a brothel. Mathias offers a friendly smile in return. "Out on the town tonight, men?" Two of the guards gave an affirmative before disappearing into the loud and lively crowd. Pleasure seems to be their mission tonight and lest he and his nephews gain any negative attention, he wants to keep it that way. Francois signaled for drinks to be brought forth.

"Merci!" Mathias clinks his tankard with a nearby patron and eagerly attends to his thirst. "Bring another would you?" he asks. "We're looking for a little rest and recreation for the captain as well." Mathias heartily claps his hand on Ludwig's back. "His little dancer would not have him tonight! Can you believe it!?" Mathias teases. "Maybe you should have brought more coins with you!" He laughs and throws back his drink once more, happily ignoring Ludwig's objections.

"Well," Francois starts. "Not all these girls sell their bodies."

"No? They pick soldiers' pockets in other ways?" Mathias playfully shoves a tankard into Ludwig's chest, barely giving him enough time to catch it before clinking it with his own. "Ah well...As long as you're helping the economy."

Ludwig hardly pays any attention as Mathias drags him further into the tavern. He downs his drink rather quickly, hoping that it would satisfy his lieutenant and Mathias could consider his mission to "cheer the captain up" to be a success. Unfortunately, finishing his drink only results in Mathias ordering more for them.

"Loosen up, Captain! Live a little!"

Eventually Mathias allows Ludwig to drown his dejection alone and instead chases after one of the pretty girls with an enticing smile of questionable sincerity and eyes equally as hungry for pleasure, passion, and fun as his own. Though the tavern is warm and lively, Ludwig cannot help but to imagine what the place must look like in a few hours after the dawn comes. Would the tables be empty? Would the mood be miserable? Though a small part of him does enjoy the atmosphere, he wishes the scenery could instead match his own melancholy. Perhaps then he would not feels so out of place.

As if to chastise him for his foolish musings or perhaps to tease him some more, and provide God and his creations- spirit and mortal alike- with more entertainment, laughter as warm and appealing as the gruit filling his mind and belly fills the tavern and cuts clear through his hazy, gloomy thoughts.

"You!" Ludwig calls. For swaying his hips and sashaying atop one of the tables is both the cause and cure of the very affliction that has been plaguing him this evening and admittedly several evenings before.

"Me!" Alfred responds loudly. He gives the soldier a sweet smile that quickly turns mischievous before leaping from the table.

Had it not been for his discipline and his training, Ludwig surely would have missed and the night would have been spoiled with blood and broken bones. Yet Fate had not woven such a tragedy for this evening; instead of stumbling over a corpse, Ludwig caught the vivacious dancer. The force of which sends them spinning into a world where only the two of them exist. "I was hoping to see you tonight," Ludwig says. His words husky and intimate if not somewhat slurred. "I thought you would wait for me in our chapel."

"Oh?..." Alfred wonders. His glassy eyes rove over Ludwig's face as if studying or perhaps unable to focus upon any of the soldier's features. Giggles, bubbly and light, tickle their way out of his throat. His lips bloom into a coquettish grin; one that springs across his cheeks and spreads to the very stars of his eyes. "But I'm free now, Captain!" He lolls his head back and unleashes laughter as bright and unrestrained as his spirit. "Like, you can't expect me to wait forever, can you?"

Had Alfred have looked at him more than the ceiling, Ludwig might have felt inclined to answer straightaway. Yet as such is not the case, Ludwig lets the question linger between the two of them. And had this have been the night they first met, Ludwig might have lost himself in Alfred's eyes; unfocused as they are. Instead, Ludwig's gaze meanders from his twinkling eyes to his hair, radiant in the candlelight; to his nose and cheeks, rosy from a copious amount of wine; to his lips, plump and pouting. "You must lose friends easily that way..."

Suddenly, Alfred pushes himself from Ludwig's arms. "I lose a lot of soldiers too," he says after putting some distance between their bodies.

"That's too bad," Ludwig says over the cheers and the music. "It will make seeing you that much more difficult." And though Ludwig is by no means sober, he has not slipped so for into inebriation as to miss the way Alfred wrings his hands before abruptly dropping them to his sides to clutch at his skirt.

"And does that disappoint you?"

"No." Ludwig carefully steps forward; his eyes only on Alfred. "You are free." One step. "You are happy." Another step. "Why would that disappoint me?"

And at last he saw Alfred's eyes brighten in clarity.

Another step.

"Besides," Ludwig gently takes a hold of Alfred's hands- separating the trembling digits from the cloth they were tangled in. "As challenging as it may be," Ludwig brings Alfred's hands up- wrapping them around his own shoulders. "Finding you will be all the more..." He then tenderly glides his own hands down the dancer's arms. Roaming over the shoulders, he begins a feathery-light trail down Alfred's sides before firmly clasping the dancer's hips and pulling him close. "Satisfying." Now securely in his arms, Ludwig feels Alfred stiffen. He sees more than hears Alfred's breath hitch. "Does that surprise you?"

"NO!" Alfred quickly answers. "Yes...a little..."

The captain's gaze softens. "Me too..." Perhaps if Ludwig had not indulged in any drink, he would have been more composed. He definitely would have been more considerate of their proximity and he most certainly would not be looking upon Alfred's lips with such keen observation and oh so much adoration. During their nightly rendezvous, Ludwig has been wise enough to control his more passionate desires. He has not attempted to seize a kiss from Alfred since their moonlit marriage ceremony. And while some of his reluctance has to do with the dread of Alfred's brothers finding them in a compromising manner, Ludwig cannot deny that his own inhibition and lack of experience has also contributed to it. How fortunate then that he has been blessed with liquid courage. He leans forward, but as much as he wants to capture those beautiful lips- he waits; knowing that it shall be all the more sweeter if given freely.

"You'll have to look," Alfred's eyes flicker between Ludwig and something...or someone behind him. "Where good soldiers like you never go..."

Ludwig tenderly lifts Alfred's chin, guiding the dancer's attention back onto himself. "Maybe I'm not as good as everybody likes to think." Ludwig waits. And only once he feels Alfred relax...sees his eyes flutter shut...hears his breathing even out...only then does he begin to bridge the gap betwixt their flushed faces- longing for the touch and taste of the first of many kisses he has been pining for. Finally! They would seal their nuptial vows...

Unfortunately, Fate is a rather fickle force.

Ludwig stumbles forward. Had he have been a lesser man, or incapable of holding his liquor or maintaining his disposition in any way, he might have taken quite a nasty fall. As such, he quickly rights himself. His eyes- sharp, clear, and righteously furious- survey across the tavern. And lo! There! Weaving amidst the throng of drinkers, and dancers, and merry-faced revelers, is Alfred. The teenager appears to have been pulled away by his brother- "Matthew" he remembers. Unfortunately, as Ludwig tries to give chase, the crowd seems to swell around him and once again, he is alone and inconsolable.

Ándo bírto zhas
Thai mol piyas
Amáre love das
Thai mol piyas

Matthew trudges forward. He tries not to think about how quickly the crowd parts for him, lest whatever magic at work suddenly ends. Perhaps it is due to his brows, furrowed and twitching with every other step. Perhaps it is the glint in his eye, stoked with determination and promising misery to any who oppose him. However, he cannot deny that the crowd's silent agreement to allow their departure most likely is thanks to Alfred struggling behind him; desperately trying to pry Matthew's hand from his wrist. With a strength that seldom shows its' face outside of self-defense, Matthew drags his brother closer to the entryway. The sudden lurch forces Alfred to press close to Matthew's side, and to further diminish his foolish brother's defiance, Matthew curls his arm around Alfred's waist in a merciless grip. "Alfred! Stop this foolishness! For once will you obey!?"

Ándo bírto zhas
Thai mol piyas

It is with tremendous restraint that Matthew holds back the deluge of profanity and curses as Alfred, insolent child that he is, kicks him! Yes, indeed! He dares to kick his own elder brother- who only ever acts in his own best interest! Damn near pushed to the breaking-point; far too frustrated to use tact Matthew grabs a hold of Alfred's arms and swings him around. "He's just going to use you! When he's done, he'll lock you away!"

Amáre love das
Thai mol piyas

Matthew knows his crushing grip would result in bruises, but he could not relent. His eyes bore into Alfred's as he begs silently, 'Please...please understand you hopeless little fool.'

"No! You're wrong!" Alfred twists and turns in his brother's grasp. His face scrunches miserably as he hopelessly fights against Matthew's actions. "He...he isn't like that Mattie! Ludwig...he-"

"Is a soldier, is he not?" Matthew forces his raging hot breath slowly from his nostrils. He can feel his fingers twitching; barely able to restrain his anger. "So long as he wears that armor, his loyalty is sworn only to whoever pays the most. And should the man he calls his liege wants to..." Matthew stops, unable to even allude to the implications regarding his conference with Minister Kirkland. He feels Alfred trembling within his crushing hold, hears his pitiful whimpers, and sees his wide eyes welling with tears, but Matthew does not- can not- back down.

Finally...Alfred stills. With a small sniffle, he looks away and bows his head in deference.

Matthew sighs. "Tis not your fault," he says. "I never should have let our uncle talk me into this...celebration." He calls over to Peter and either the boy is too tired to argue, or he is wise enough to notice the vestiges of choler and exhaustion upon Matthew's face, for he puts forth no fuss under Matthew's commands. "Allons-y," and with that, the brother's take their silent, unremarkable leave from the tavern.

And so it came to be, Captain Ludwig- now free from the drinking, singing, dancing crowd- has no choice but to resign himself to a night without Alfred. Once again, his kiss must be delayed. Having no choice but to mourn over his loss, one made all the more damnable without any means to find the dancer, Ludwig turns to another tankard; hoping to find some small bit of happiness at the bottom of his drink.

"Captain! Captain!" calls Mathias. The Lieutenant gleefully stumbles forth, his arm wrapped around an equally inebriated woman. "Captain!" he calls again. The two of them sway unsteadily, only able to stand with each other's support. "ShE saYsss sSHe haS a sSisTeR." He guesters to the woman whose name he never got, and most likely wont consider when the morning comes.

"I'm certain she does." Ludwig politely responds. "Forgive me, but I'm not interested."

"Awww...Captain!"

"Have a good night, Mathias!" Ludwig waves as he walks out into the cold and empty night.

~Dance~
~Dance~
~Dance~
~Dance~

Top off the tankards- Let's have another one!
Let's drink it down and shout out in song!
We're going to drink and dance till the morning sun-
It's going to come before long...
It's going to come before long...
It's going to come before long...
It's going to come before long...
It's going to come before long...

Alone, Arthur gazes into the fire. The Minister of Justice is indeed a patient man. He waits and waits even as the trinket held over his heart burns- burns with the same heat and passion as the fires before him. "Not yet..." he whispers for he knows God is putting him to the test and only the faithful and just shall be rewarded. "Nnngh... Ahh! Monsieur Kirkland..." the fire breathes; and somewhere betwixt the warm and loving light and the greedy and tortuous flames Arthur sees Alfred dancing. "Nnnnghh..." Alfred moans again and with each sashay of his hips, each beckoning of his half-lidded and lust-glazed eyes, and each "come hither" of his warm and soft hands- teasing Arthur- inviting him to touch and to feel and to conquer over pagan flesh. "Out, you Devil!" He shouts as he zealously hurls more wood into the ornate fireplace; the flames laughing and licking up the offering.

Arthur marches across the hall, desperate for air and relief and to kill the fire burning, burning, burning, everywhere. He throws open the windows and yet still there is no solace. For the same cold darkness that haunts his empty bed chamber thrives in the shadows of Paris, where all the low-born, wicked, hedonistic heathens and apostates like to play. And though he is gone from the taunting fire, Arthur can not escape the demons calling out to him. "Alfred..." they whisper. "Alfred...Oh! Alfred..." The wind picks up and Arthur could not bear to turn away. How long he has been standing there, he knows not. But soon, he began to see the boy everywhere; Dancing in the streets, draped against open doorways, reaching out to him from windows, clothed only in thin bedding. "In the dark of the night..." they call to him. "In the dead of the winter..."

Pleasure is fleeting (Ándo bírto zhas)
So lips will be meeting (Thai mol piyas)
Come keep me warm until morning!

"NO!" Arthur howls. He staggers from the window but each steps saps at his strength- his piety- and he can only stumble so far, for the flames of the fire are burning bright- brighter than before. He stumbles; one hand on the floor holding himself up, and the other clutched over his heart and the all too burning hot trinket resting over it. Arthur considers calling out to someone...anyone to lift him up but the fire is suffocating; and his words evaporating within his throat. But he cannot die. Minister Arthur Kirkland can not die! But he comes close...oh so very close. As he sees Alfred approach him; with sun-kissed skin glowing even in the dark, dark night. The boy stops just before him, offering a hand in assistance; and Arthur so desperate for air and light forgets only for a brief moment to keep on the watch as God himself has ordered his most faithful servants. Blinded by the boy's warmth and beauty, Arthur foolishly accepts the hand before him.

With the taste of the wine...
Hold me close as we're dancing...

Several more Alfreds emerge from the shadows. Each one dancing with him...before him...around him...lifting their legs and wrapping their arms about him. They touch him- stroking at his arms and back. They tangle themselves into his robes- some burying their faces into the fabrics, others kissing sweetly upon his neck, and others still whispering into his ears.

And I hear you sighing (Ándo bírto zhas)
Winter is dying (Thai mol piyas)
You'll keep me warm until morning!
Come keep me warm until morning!

And Arthur is ready to do just that- give Alfred the warmth they both oh so desperately need. Yet...there in the back of his mind, there is a spark. Tiny little candlelight that seems to grown bigger...brighter...louder...clearer as the moments glide by. "...untouched..." it seems to whisper, "...untouched...UN-touched...UNTOUCHED..." Suddenly, Arthur's eyes open and there he is; all alone- standing in front of the wicked fire! "OUT!" he screams. "OOOUUUUTTTT!" Arthur dashes to his desk. His aged hands shake as he stumbles and fumbles about. Finally, he pulls out the one thing that could possibly hope to provide him escape from this demonic trickery- a brass thurible. He had not meant to take it of course, but the poor Judge had been overcome by fear and weakness and God's own Holy Spirit that had possessed him to take the censer. Surely, God must have wanted him to have it! Otherwise he never would have been able to smuggle it from under Notre Dame's sanctified eye. Remembering the instruction of his days in the priesthood, Arthur opens the thurible. Carefully, he lights a charcoal disk and places it inside, followed quickly by a generous amount of incense- lest the depraved spirits fail to leave. Arthur closes the thurible and wordlessly blesses it with the sign of a cross. Then methodically, he swings the thurible throughout the hall, determined to clear away tainted, lecherous air. As the cross of the censer gleams in the moonlight, Arthur thinks of the holy bells ringing in the same rhythm. Those same words coming back to him, "untouched...untouched...untouched..." Yes...He must remember. Alfred is indeed untouched; a fact that was sworn by the gypsy vermin that had mucked this very hall earlier. It was he- that devil boy who never seems to step completely from the shadows; whose eyes were always watching, always thinking. HE must have cursed Arthur's home with this vile trickery! But he had seen it- seen the fear in the gypsy's eyes as he was compelled to speak only the truth. Alfred is indeed untouched, and soon Alfred would be his. Arthur and the gypsy boy- whatever his name was- had been able to miraculously reach an agreement. The boy would hand Alfred over to the judge's care, and in return both he and the little one Alfred had nursed would keep their miserable lives in tact. In fact, one of his soldiers is already on his way to the cathedral to collect Alfred. Which is all the more reason to clear the devil and his followers from his home.

The smoke clears and the first sight Arthur beholds is the glorious Notre Dame. She smiles upon him with favor and he knows she is blessing his endeavors. To think, within her embrace is Alfred, a child...a virgin...and a mother. It is no wonder now that he has yet to be purged from her walls. But Arthur still needs to take him! Yes...take Alfred away from his sinful elder brother who groomed the boy and made him into a seductress. It is not too late, for Alfred is still young and untouched! But, being gypsy bred, the dancer is far too close to the devil. The foolish priests do not have the might and willpower necessary to tame and cleanse the boy's spirit. Arthur though...oh yes...Arthur would see to it that the holy dove moved within Alfred's body; but he needs permission first. Arthur needs to petition himself before God and prove that he is worthy of such a formidable task.

Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti
Beatae Mariae semper Virgini
Beato Michaeli archangelo
Sanctis apostolis omnibus sanctis

"Beata Maria," Arthur calls out to the Virgin Mother herself, knowing that she must be the one looking after Alfred; another in her position. "You know I am a righteous man. Of my virtue I am justly proud." And of course Arthur knows that what he is asking for is good and just for even the angels join in with their praises to God.

Et tibi Pater

Arthur turns away from the sight of the immoral cretin below. "Beata Maria, You know I'm so much purer than the common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd."

Quia peccavi nimis

Now, in the presence of God, Arthur has the strength to stand before the fire once again. He must if he is to prove his ability to resist the lustful spirit dwelling within Alfred. "Then tell me, Maria- Why I see him dancing there? Why his smoldering eyes still scorch my soul?"

Cogitatione

And there is Alfred, once again, dancing in the devil's flames. "I feel him! I see him!" Arthur secures the trinket above his heart, and in doing so, prevents his own soul from leaping into the fire as well. "The sun caught in his golden hair is blazing in me out of all control!"

Verbo et opere

Worried that his own hand might not be enough to resist the call of the dancer, Arthur wisely steps away from the ever growing stronger flames. "Like fire!" Another step. "Hellfire!" Another step. "This fire in my skin..." And whilst his mind is preoccupied with the thoughts of flames both earthly and unnatural, Arthur mindlessly pulls his trinket out from his robes. A blue scarf with silver-white stars decorating it; the very scarf Alfred must have bewitched him with. "This burning...desire...is turning me to sin!" No sooner than he realizes his error, the coveted scarf he had been caressing himself with still within his grasp, myriads of myriads of angels flood the hall! Each one towering over him with impossibly garish red robes; and in the shadows of their hoods, Arthur would swear he can see his own face looking down upon himself- judging him.

"It's not my fault!"

Mea culpa

"I'm not to blame!"

Mea culpa

"It is the gypsy boy- the witch- who sent this flame!"

Mea maxima culpa

"It's not my fault!"

Mea culpa

"If in God's plan..."

Mea culpa

"He made the Devil so much stronger than a Man!"

Mea maxima culpa

And just as suddenly as they had appeared, the angels collectively decide to leave. The angels wrap themselves around him- purifying them with their holy fire. Baptizing him once again! And though they have seen his mistake, his moment of weakness, surely they must have forgiven him! For they leave him unharmed- taking with them the lust that had been cast upon his heart and carry it into the fire, where they proceed to banish the demons that have been taunting the gracious and honorable judge. And in the new light set before him, Arthur knows what must be done. "Protect me, Maria!" Arthur calls. "Don't let this siren cast his spell! Don't let his fire sear my flesh and bone! Destroy the gypsy, Alfred! And let him taste the fires of Hell! Or else let him be mine and mine alone!"

Caught in the fervor of his prayers, Arthur is startled back to his mortal reality as a tremendous knock raps upon his door. "Minister Kirkland," Commander Zwingli announces. "The gypsy has escaped."

Silence.

Pain and silence gnaw through Arthur's old heart as the news hits him.

"He's nowhere in the cathedral," the commander says. "He's gone..."

"Wot?" Arthur chokes out once he learns how to breathe again. "But...but how? I-" The gypsy! The answer rings loud and clear in his head- it could have only come from God himself. That damned, damned gypsy boy! The same magic he used to curse Arthur's dwelling, he must have used to spirit Alfred out of Notre Dame. Arthur should have known better than to send the elder brother alone to retrieve Alfred. He shouldn't have trusted him! How could he!? The heathen was willing to sell out his own brother after all. "Never mind!" Arthur snaps. "Get out, you bloody idiot! I'll find him. I'll find him if I have to burn down all of Paris!" Arthur turns back to the fire. "Hellfire...dark fire...now gypsy it's your turn! Choose me or your pyre. Be mine or you will burn!" With the promise made, Arthur tosses the scarf into the fire and at one he knows that there is power in this covenant as even the angels cry out.

Kyrie Eleison

"God have mercy on him..."

Kyrie Eleison

Realizing what he has just done, Arthur backs away and shudders. "God have mercy on me..."

Kyrie Eleison

Emboldened by God's blessing, by the Virgin Mary's light, and by the angels support, Arthur proudly and passionately accepts the crusade bestowed upon him. With the entire heavens as his witness, he makes his own vow known, "But he will be mine or he will burn!"

A/N: Oh! My! Goodness! Who would have thought that it would take a quarantine for me to FINALLY get this chapter finished! Speaking of covid-19, to everyone reading this, I hope you guys stay as safe and as healthy as you can. I hope your families and friends stay safe too and I want to give a huge THANK YOU to everyone with essential jobs who are unable to self quarantine and thus are at so much risk. You guys are amazing!

And just to reiterate for those who did not read the authors note at the top, this chapter uses both versions of Thai Mol Piyas. The first is the alternate version performed by La Jolla Playhouse and the second is the official version that you'll find in most other recordings. To be honest, I like both versions of the song, but one was more fitting of Alfred's character than the other. Also you'll see that a few stanzas that were originally for the Follo character have been changed and given to Matthew instead. At first I only wanted to reference the official version, I really had not intended to use as much of that version as I did. So if anyone is a big fan of the official version, I'm sorry for not really using that one but I hope that you like the La Jolla version too. You can find both versions on YouTube but unfortunately FFN it's not allowing me to copy and paste any links or anything.

Also the app is messing up, or at least it is on my phone. So it might be best to actually read this in the browser either on your computer or on the mobile website.

Thank you guys so much for reading this! I know it's been a while since I last updated but I have no intention of abandoning this fic. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and please feel free to leave a comment or review even if it's just a small one. Your words are all so very motivational and inspirational. You guys really give me the strength to pull through when I'm feeling like I've burned out so thank you guys so much.