A/N: chapter eight the chapter that just keeps on giving. this is the quick a dirty edit so please don't hesitate to call me out on weird spelling/grammar typos.

going through the motions of my madness
i fell for you
how did you get to me so fast?
now i deal with the consiquences
how long will this last?

going through all my misconceptions
fear is creeping
still i've been here before
not one to stop myself from dreaming
how long before i fall?

"motions" by chic gamine

They had watched the sun come up together in silence, unable to sleep after the previous evening's excitement and waiting for the strength to return to their weary limbs. If the Southern Prince occasionally played with the ends of her unbound hair, unknotting the tangles he found there, Elsa didn't mention it and no one was there to bear witness. And if Hans knew the truth of the shudder that passed through her when his fingers brushed the nape of her neck he allowed the Snow Queen to pretend she was simply cold.

The sun was little more than an hour into the sky when Elsa finally unwound herself from the prince's cloying grasp, stretching and standing to survey the remnants of the battle in the bold-face of day. More than half of the peak was lost to the blaze, black ash and still glowing embers scarring the landscape like a scene out of the "Book of Revelations". Between the ruined mess and the portion of the mountainside she had been able to spare stood what remained of her ice palace, now melting in the early morning rays, the spell that protected it from the elements all but used-up to protect her nation and its people. A turret had given way during the attack. It not only left gaping hole in the failing structure, but also had torn an ugly gash in the otherwise untouched landscape to the east, fresh dirt, boulders and broken trees marking its decent. Elsa had to make a hard decision.

Taking a deep breath, she stretched out her hands, flexing every muscle in her arms down to her fingertips.

"What are you doing?" Hans asked hesitantly.

"Taking back what's mine." As she breathed in slowly, purposefully, she could almost smell the magic surrounding them. At first, nothing seemed to change except the air, unnaturally still even in the strange tense atmosphere between dawn and morning. Slowly, and then all at once, the castle began to glow again as it had the night before, but less intense now in the light of day, before it started to diminish. It was no longer melting, but actually dissolving back into the magic from whence it had been built. In a shower of glittering snowflakes and silver slivers her creation was called back to her piece by piece until nothing remained to mark her mountain fortress save the geometric crocus where she had originally laid the foundation.

Elsa didn't want to cry, but when Hans laid his hand on her shoulder and asked her solemnly - "Back to your heart?" - it was all she could do to hide her tears.

"Back to my heart," she sighed, "where all secrets go." Looking at him now, worn and ragged, it was hard to say how she felt toward the Southern Prince. The night before he had been her equal, well-matched in their pursuit, invaluable to her means and ends, but now that the wreckage was laid bare before her it was difficult to explain his presence by her side. She thought of Anna's ridiculous query- at least, what had seemed ridiculous at the time - "You don't actually like Hans, do you?"- and realized she wasn't being entirely honest, though she would have been hard-pressed to tell who exactly she was lying to.

"Hans," he had moved away from her while she ruminated, flipping the charred rocks over with a stick he had acquired somewhere nearby to expose their white unblemished bellies.

"Hmmn?"

"Thank you," she steeled herself, though she wasn't sure against what, "for helping me."

When his smiled bloomed bright and unrestricted with the mornings rays behind it, making his hair glow with copper fire, she realized too late the lurching of her heart had been what she had been preparing herself to fight. "You're welcome."

They didn't have to wait long for Elsa's guards to appear and had found nothing of note by the time they arrived, though Hans had overturned several more rocks. She left him to whatever self-appointed task he had set himself and made way for the captain of the guard. The poor man looked almost worse than the Elsa felt, which was saying quite a lot. He dismounted and bowed low as she approached, humbling himself before his queen.

"Your majesty, I can explain," he mumbled almost incoherently, his words nearly lost in his genuflecting.

"Explain? What is there explain, Captain? Unless you are responsible or know a way of stopping fire and weather magic." Elsa couldn't understand the man's groveling and obvious remorse, too shell-shocked to try and empathize with his plight.

"I should have been here. I should have known something was going down this way," he finally faced her, still on his knees, almost wallowing in despair, "all signs after that dog's death pointed to the mountains and your majesty had to face this terror alone and -"

"I wasn't alone," Elsa almost surprised herself with her hasty correction and tried very hard not to look at Hans, still attending to stones nearby, "And you're forgiven for whatever transgressions you think you might have committed. This was a magical attack. I very much doubt there is little you or your men could have done to prevent this violence." 'Except get in the way and cause more distraction.' This sentiment went unspoken, but no less understood. "I need your help more than ever. I want all available investigators on this scene as soon as possible. There is a lot of ground to cover and we can't afford to waste any more time." She was afraid of rain, natural or otherwise, washing any clues they might turn up. Elsa hated to lean toward the pessimistic, but she couldn't help but feel they would find little of use, but they had to at least try.

"Hey, Elsa, I think I found something!" Hans' shout had the entire brigade's attention and Elsa fought the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. The Southern Prince seemed to drive her to such states often. One would think she would be getting used to it.

She quickly made her way over to him, wanting to berate him in relative privacy, "Could you at least have the decency to stop using my given name? Especially so publicly?"

He gave her a long hard look she wasn't sure how to read, though she was sure if she were anyone else he would be rolling his eyes. "Of course, your majesty," she wondered how he made the title sound so off-hand, like a joke he didn't expect his audience to understand, "I think you should see this."

Hans held one of the rocks he had been overturning. Nothing was outwardly remarkable about the stone, the top blackened with soot the same as it brethren and formed from the same granite that made up the rest of the mountain. However innocuous it seemed, as soon as she touched it Elsa felt the residual draw of power it held, broken though the spell that fueled it may have been. The feeling was wrong and unnatural. It left the Snow Queen a little nauseous.

She almost hesitated in turning it over to see what had caught Hans' attention, but was well-aware of the Captain of Guard and the prince's wondering stares. She steeled her nerves and flipped the object to reveal what should have been the unblemished white flat of the stone where it had been facing the ground. Instead, the center was blackened and cracked, fracturing a single rune painted in dark harsh lines by an unsteady brush. When she dared test the ink it left a fine powder the color of rust on her fingertips and she knew without tasting it the mark was drawn in blood. Likely the blood of the game-warden's hound, sacrificed to powers that should not be.

Elsa summoned a bit of the power she reclaimed to create enough snow to wash the blood from her hands while the captain examined the artifact, seemingly unaffected by the strange force the Snow Queen had sensed. "What does this mark mean?" He wondered.

Elsa was surprised he didn't know, but was reminded not everyone was afforded the same resources or hours of study she had been granted. "It's the rune for 'south'." There was the sound of hooves and the shout of voices as a second, much larger garrison finally broke the tree line below them, just in time for the task at hand. "I want you to have your men spread out around the peak and search for its companions. Likely, there will be one at every cardinal point along this altitude."

"The enemy has been planning this for a while, then," the captain observed darkly, "We will put a stop to them, your majesty." He bowed formally, a closed fist clasped over his heart, before taking his leave.

Elsa was about to return he attention to the artifact and its finder when she noticed one of the new-comers break away from the entourage, making his way toward her and her company with obvious intent. She was confused until the rider drew closer and she realized this was no mere soldier, but the Desert King himself mounted on his pale steed. It was a testament to his horsemanship that he and the mount had survived the journey at all, ill-suited as they were for such climate. Elsa berated herself silently for not noticing their presence among the small party sooner, but forgave her absentmindedness on recent stresses. She prepared herself for his approach, trying not to fidget or make a great show of arranging her poorly-kept hair and skirts.

"What have we here?" Hans remarked unnecessarily from beside her.

"Play nice," Elsa warned, already annoyed with what was sure to be an awkward confrontation.

"Your majesty," Farhajii greeted as he dismounted, bowing shallowly before his entire demeanor cooled dramatically, "Your Highness."

"King Farhajii," Elsa rejoined for them both while Hans only afforded a silent courteous gesture of formality, clearly unhappy with the king's presence.

The feeling was apparently mutual. "I was going to warn her majesty the Southern Prince has been suspiciously absent since the events of last evening, but it seems I had no cause to worry." There was a second layer to his statement, obvious and bare-faced: he did have cause to worry if the prince's absence was explained by the queen's company.

For all of a second, Elsa thought of explaining herself, of trying to reconcile the king's oblique assumptions with some version of the truth that didn't offend her sensibilities. Halfway through arranging her words into something like a lie, she remembered her place. She was a queen, and though he may be her equal in rank, he was in her lands and, furthermore, she owed the Dessert King no justification for her actions – real or perceived.

"Yes, Prince Hans' help here on the mountain was invaluable, to be sure," the tension that had coiled within her at the king's insinuations released gently with the truth while Hans preened at the compliment, "but it would also be helpful to know what I might have missed while I was away. Perhaps his majesty would be so kind as to discuss it over dinner with me soon?"

It was little more than political maneuvering on her part; she needed to know what he might have witnessed in her absence and it was an elegant solution to assuage his bruised male ego. Her ploy seemed to work, the mere suggestion of a private dinner making the king's chest swell with pride while he righted himself to his full height. Elsa looked beyond the Desert King's posturing to catch Hans' reaction, almost expecting his jealousy or anger, but oddly relieved when he merely smirked. This time, he did roll his eyes. Clearly, she was not as subtle as she had hoped, though if anyone was likely to see through such machinations it would be the Southern Prince.

"It would be an honor, your majesty," Farhajii accepted in a booming voice.

Elsa felt like rolling her eyes, as well, but channeled her amusement into an almost genuine smile, lest she offend him and the whole song-and-dance begin anew. 'He is a man, and a monarch, at that,' she reminded herself patiently, 'and the ego of both is often all-consuming.' "As it were, did you have any other purpose in joining my guards this morning or may we head down to the castle?"

Farhajii grinned, "My only purpose in coming here was to ascertain her majesty's safety. And this certainly seemed a great deal more exciting than breaking fast in that cluttered hall."

Rationally, Elsa knew he meant very little by it, perhaps he even thought they shared some joke about her distaste for extravagance after last night's gala, but regardless of his intentions he came across as glib. His capricious attitude fueled a small storm of righteous indignation within the Snow Queen. 'How dare he?' When she and Hans had risked their lives to quell the sorcery that dared to threaten Arendelle and her guests? Would that she could be breaking fast, her biggest concern which of the suitors was least likely to drive her absolutely insane in the long run and what bottle of wine to take to the library that evening. Instead, she was standing on the side of the mountain in a tattered formal gown, absolutely exhausted mentally, emotionally, and magically having just barely scraped through the first battle in what was sure to be a very long war.

The temperature cooled dramatically with her temper, but she had very little magic to spare and the sudden draw on her meager resources left her feeling faint. This had never really happened to her before, she had never found the depths of her seemingly endless well of power. The realization that she had reached such a desperate point and without knowing how long it would take her to recover made her still with a new kind of fear, primal and irrational, her anger forgotten in the face of this chilling revelation.

Without her consent, and certainly against her better judgment, her eyes were drawn to Hans, seeking some small comfort in the face of her unexpected weakness. She had always been so terrified of being perceived as anything less-than-perfect it was hard to have someone like him bear witness to the spectacle she was making of herself. It seemed he was often audience to her lack of control; little had changed between her coronation and now. She thought of the time her had held her hand as she fought to reign in her temper and she had accused him of being incapable of loving anyone but himself. Elsa desperately hoped she was wrong, though whether it was for his sake or hers she didn't care to know or dwell on.

Finally, she broke the gaze and if Farhajii had interpreted any intimacy from the gesture he was wise enough to keep his observations to himself. "We should depart," Elsa was all-business, weary of the day ahead already, "Let us hope the captain thought to bring extra mounts or you two are going to look awfully funny sharing a mount."

Both men paled at the mere suggestion and almost tripped over one another in their haste to help her find suitable transport. Sometimes it was good to be queen.

Elsa and her entourage entered the Great Hall with far more confidence than she felt she possessed after such a trying evening followed by a long morning, which seemed to the Snow Queen to be a sort of theme of late. Though the individuals gathered were small compared to the vastness of the room, the sheer mass of the their numbers and volume of their voices threatened to overwhelm the exhausted queen, especially as their cries only became more desperate the moment they caught sight of the monarch. All of the suitors and their representatives were present along with several of the party guest stilled dressed in the previous evening's finery. Some of the suitors had even seen fit to bring their attendants and Elsa strongly suspected they would not be long for the contest. Clearly, whatever excuses Kai and Anna had made in her absence had done little assuage their fears.

Some of the accusations were absurd, "Your majesty, we heard you eloped!" While others hit far too close to home for her liking, "Your majesty, was there an attack, truly?" Even when her steward sought to calm their anxious clamor so that she might address them the chaos in the room continued to mount, stilling yet not dissipating when Elsa finally broke, her words cutting like ice through the calamity, "Enough!"

The crowd seemed to still as one, giving them the illusion of having been frozen in place. 'A tempting fate, to be sure,' the Snow Queen lamented privately.

At first, she was unsure what she wanted to say. All the way down the mountain she had asked herself how best to address her nation and still had come to no easy answer. What sort of queen did she hope to be? She thought of the long lonely years of isolation her secrets had wrought – the secrets her parents had insisted on under their rule – and decided she would do things differently. She would be honest.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she took a deep breath, searching for the sense of strength and certainty she had felt the night before on the mountain, "honored guests and suitors alike, please head my words. Many of you already know of the strange attacks on our land and people. For those of you who don't know the details of the situation, suffice to say there can be little doubt there is an enemy among us who harbors ill-intent for Arendelle." There was a murmur of discontent at her announcement, but Elsa continued on, undeterred by their uncertainty, "Lords and ladies of my realm, I implore you to exercise caution with those unknown to you and mercy to those who have proven trustworthy. We must not act out of panic and fear, but from a place of unity and serenity. If our enemy divides us than we have already lost. To my honored guests and suitors I release you of any responsibilities – perceived or otherwise. You are free to stay or go at your own leisure, but I cannot guarantee your safety other than to provide escort or otherwise arrange travel accommodations."

The assembly immediately broke out into a dull roar. This time, Elsa had been expected their outrage and could easily whether the storm long enough for them to burn themselves out. Finally, she raised her hand in a gesture of silence reinforced by the cold measured stare she cast out over the crowd. "If any wish for a further audience we will reconvene here in an hour's time when your concerns can be addressed in an orderly fashion. Until then, all."

Her mind was awhirl, already formulating a diplomatic response for the protests she expected in an hour, but a sudden moment of exhaustion almost left her staggering. A gentle hand at her elbow righted her swaying. King Farhajii had taken his leave of her long before she addressed the crowd, but it seemed Prince Hans would be harder to shake. "You are dismissed," if she sounded cruel he was unaffected by her venom, "go take a nap or something." And then she cooled as quickly as she had heated, too tired to feign an argument with him, "At least one of us should get some rest."

"As tempting as sleep might be, if you're going to speak with your small council about the events of last night –"

Elsa came to a complete stop, only vaguely aware of the fact that rather than extradite herself from his grip she had only managed to entangled herself further, her elbow crooked in his as naturally as breathing. It would have been hard to decide who was escorting whom. "How do you know where I'm going?"

Rather than dignify himself with a response, Hans simply blinked slowly and started over. "As I was saying: if you're going to speak with your small council about the events of last night I might prove an invaluable witness."

Elsa resumed walking, the prince at her side. "I hardly see what's invaluable about you, but I suppose you are right."

"Well, I do apologize if I'm being presumptuous." He sounded nothing of the sort.

She snorted inelegantly. "When has Prince Hans of the Southern Isles ever apologized for being presumptuous? In fact, I find it to be one of your most endearing qualities." As she was about to open the door to the small council's chambers she glanced up find the look of astonishment and, dare she say, hope her words inspired in Hans written across his every feature as clearly as runes etched in stone. The shock became her own when she realized she had affected him so and the feeling made her uncomfortable and strangely elated. She was even more surprised when she realized the feeling wasn't wholly unfamiliar; it felt like power, but she was unsure if this was a power she was prepared for or even wanted to wield over another person, especially if that person was Hans.

"Your majesty?" She had never been more grateful to be interrupted by Sir Stuart, "The, um, small council is, um, ready to see you?"

For the council she had little patience, mortification and self-righteous indignation battling for the fore-front of her emotions, especially after several gasped in outrage after quickly recognizing the man she had brought into their chambers. She waved a dismissive hands to the uneasy guards and squawking lords. "I'm sure most of you remember Prince Hans. If I recall correctly some of you even supported his decision to have me executed. In this very room." Several of the men shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, no one daring to speak a word or meet her gaze, "Now, if we're all done being shocked at one-another's perceived evils may we get on with this meeting's more pressing issues?"

The stunned silence that followed this outburst was finally broken by Kai's baritone laugh, "Well, it seems Her Majesty is in desperate need for coffee," he settled a serving tray in front of her while her councilors composed themselves, "I am glad you've returned safely, if not a little grumpy."

Elsa accepted his offer gratefully, offering the second cup to Hans before she started speaking, letting everyone understand he was her guest and not to be disrespected. "I am entitled to be a little grumpy after the evening we've had," she took a deep sip of the bitter beverage and let its warmth seep into her weary bones, "I'm afraid the dangers are very real, gentlemen. What we battled on the mountain last night was the most violent force I have ever encountered, magical or otherwise."

"With all due respect, your majesty, you are very young and have not experienced much in the way of combat," it was General Odin, an old soldier too important to replace and too stubborn to die. He had served the realm since her grand-father's reign and even in his advanced age was a fierce beast of a man not known for keeping his peace. "If two people could fight this – whatever it is – off –"

"You should have more respect for your queen," Elsa was certainly surprised by Hans' quick defense, but found it entirely unnecessary until he continued, "I've served my time in the military and it wasn't by any right of heritage that I assumed my rank. Believe me when I tell you that even 1,000 swords wouldn't have been a match for what we faced last night." His words carried such conviction and authority, Elsa suddenly realized how easy it had been for her people to rally behind this man.

General Odin was clearly flustered, but still had some fight left in him. "Regardless, we can't just sit around and wait for the enemy to strike next! We need to take the fight to them, dammit!"

"Furthermore," Elsa was grim, "we can't rely solely on my powers as a defense." She was hesitant to admit her weakness just yet, even to her most trusted of counselors, "I might not . . . always be there."

Hans nodded, already knowing her secret, but certainly not about to reveal her temporary impediment. "I believe you should prepare your kingdom as though you didn't have the luxury of magic," Elsa raised her brow at the generous description of her powers as a "luxury", but allowed Hans to continue uninterrupted, "Gather water and supplies to be distributed throughout the capital in case of attack."

"What if the enemy attacks another remote location?" The objection came from her Minister of Agricultural Affairs, "The loss to our timber industry alone is already staggering, not to mention how it will look to the citizenry if we do nothing to protect them."

"Send small battalions of soldiers and supplies to the outer-reaches if you must, but I would advise against spreading your sources too thin. Last night's attack wasn't a deliberate blow to your economy, effective though the tactic may be." Here, Hans hesitated at last, his confidence waning in the face of an uncomfortable truth, "Our enemy's target is the queen."

There were several strangled shouts, as though her ministers couldn't imagine a fiend so sinister as to try to hurt the queen even as she sat beside one. Admiral Abraham was able to quiet the din with his stern continence. "How can you be so certain?"

"Last night's attack was far from random; the enemy chose the site because it means so much to her majesty. The whole affair was rather symbolic." It was hard to argue with the Southern Prince's logic.

"A battle of wills," Elsa mused aloud and Hans nodded solemnly in agreement.

"Or a test," the shrewd old admiral pointed out, "to draw your majesty out and try the limits of your power. To leave your majesty vulnerable to further attack."

Elsa winced at that, but was far too tired to worry about every little what-if. "What's done is done. I should hope the enemy is as exhausted is I am, though it is not a possibility I want treated as fact."

She stole a quick glance at the clock and was both relieved and disheartened to see the time to meet with the audience in the Great Hall was already upon her. Hopefully, not many would have stayed to air their grievances. "Gentlemen, I'm afraid I must attend to other matters of state for the time being. We shall reconvene after the evening meal. Good day."

She allowed Hans to escort her back to the Great Hall, but it was hard to concentrate on witty banter with the feeling of Kai's eyes boring into the back of her head. Despite her knowledge that the steward was far too polite to criticize her behavior, his blatant disapproval of the prince's presence at her side made her writhe with an inexplicable emotion somewhere between embarrassment and indignation. After all, she was a queen and therefore her actions were not subject to other's judgement, or so she liked to tell herself. Furthermore, the citizens of Arendelle were more than happy to follow Hans' every order in her absence, but it seemed she was the only one willing to give him a second chance now that his true nature had been revealed to the light of day. Aside from the murderous tendencies, Elsa thought she might like the real Hans better than the mask he wore so often to please others. She realized she might be the only one.

As Elsa feared there was quite the crowd already gathered in the Great Hall, many more it seemed than when she had made her initial announcement that morning, though through her blurry vision it was hard to tell. Anna fought her way through the crowd elbows and all to hug her sister fiercely before leading them both the dais, a steadying hand at Elsa's side the whole time. Still more people piled into the chamber well after the Snow Queen was seated until finally they were streaming out the doors and into the hallways, no room left to accommodate even the smallest child.

Looking out over the sea of people, Elsa was filled with a sudden sense of pride and adoration for her nation, similar to the feeling of love she had experienced on the mountain. It was almost overwhelming in its intensity.

There were lords and ladies seated shoulder-to-shoulder with scully-maids and chimblysweeps. An old sailor held a woman's shawl for her while she wrestled with a little-one, barely more than a toddler. The future of her nation. In their greatest hour of need the people of Arendelle came together easily, unimpeded by class or status, ready to stand together and keep one another. And now they looked to her for guidance.

Elsa took a deep breath that seemed to come from her very toes.

"Friends, citizens, and honored guests alike, thank you for coming today. As many of you know already, trying times are upon us. An enemy who will not reveal themselves or their intentions has attacked our nation twice now, leaving many without homes or businesses along our northern shores. Let us be thankful that we have not lost more." Here, she paused for a moment to give thanks before continuing, "Our enemy does not fight with sword and shield, but rather wields magic of fire and storm." There was an uneasy mutter throughout the crowd as the people discussed the ramifications of facing such foes. Elsa forced herself to be heard over their concerns. "I do not tell you all of this to make you afraid, but because I need your help! Every last one of you! We must not give up hope, we must not give into fear. We must prepare, yes, but first we must love and trust one another if we are to survive this struggle. Arendelle, we must face our enemy united."

Elsa expected their outrage, she expected their questions, but when a lone person in the back began to applaud it soon avalanche into a wave of thunderous applause that threatened to overwhelm sooner than if they had attacked her bodily. The outpouring of approval and acceptance made her swell with joy. Her people loved her, but, more importantly, they trusted her.

Elsa graciously dismissed the assembly. Orders would be given later, people organized, supplies gathered and redistributed for the war-time effort; for now people would go out onto the streets proud to call her their queen and Arendelle their home, taking her message of solidarity with them like little banners of hope. Elsa, meanwhile, still had the suitors to deal with.

Their meeting had been regulated to a small anti-chamber just off the main room. Judging by the looks of many of the men earlier that day several planned on dropping out of the contest and if she had any guess as to who, it certainly wouldn't bother her in the slightest. However, it would have been unseemly to deal with their resignations after speaking so passionately on behalf of her nation.

Elsa had barely arranged her skirts when the first of the representatives was upon her. Though the elder woman's presence came as little surprise to the Snow Queen, she had been hoping she might have longer before she had to confront Garreth's grandmother. The matriarch cut an imposing figure and Elsa fought hard not to lower her eyes like some naughty school-child. "Your majesty," the old woman bowed only as low as formality required her, "thank you for hosting myself and my daughter in addition to entertaining my grandson these past weeks. However, given the state of affairs here in Arendelle I really must insist Garreth come home. Also, I should like an escort as far as her majesty can afford."

Elsa sighed, sad to see the young duke go in such a manner and affronted by the elder's arch tone, though she would grind her teeth to dust before she let the older woman know the last. "That is your prerogative of course – "

"No!" If Elsa was surprised by the interruption it seemed she was no more startled than its source. Garreth looked utterly shocked at his brazen behavior, but quickly regained his composure. "No, I do not wish to go, Grandmother," he grew more confident with every word, "I will not go."

"Garreth, really, don't make a scene," his grandmother protested, clearly unimpressed with the sudden show of bravado, "I know what's best and what's best is if you come home."

Garreth was undeterred, "By the laws of our country I have been a man since my last name-day –"

"A technicality," the matriarch argued.

The young duke continued, "Regardless, I am capable of choosing my own path and I choose to stay here. Queen Elsa is my friend. What kind of man abandons his friends when they need him?"

"An intelligent man," his grandmother practically growled.

"A lonely man," Garreth countered.

The old woman studied her grandson carefully, like an appraiser studying an artifact to determine its worth. Elsa couldn't have said what the matriarch found there, but it seemed to mollify the elder monarch. "This place has changed you. Whether it's for the better or not only time will tell."

Garreth smiled in good-humor, clearly used to his grandmother's stubborn ways. "I had to grow up sometime, Grandmother."

"Yes, well, you'd better write me at least twice a week so I know you are safe. And you," she rounded on the Snow Queen, who nearly gasped in surprise at the sudden attention, "You had better take care of my grandson."

Elsa smiled reassuringly, "Of course. Duke Garreth is my friend, I will do everything I can to keep him safe." And then, remembering the old woman's earlier insinuations, "And I will provide you and yours an escort all the way to your doorstep, if it pleases you."

It was uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of the elder monarch's searching gaze, but Elsa was far too weary to be intimidated for long. "May you fair well, Queen Elsa," the old woman bowed deeper this time, the gesture more sincere.

"And you, Lady Naxxon."

After Garreth escorted his grandmother and mother from the room, the remainder of the suitors seemed to be afraid to break the tense silence left in the wake of such drama, but it finally gave the suitors an opportunity to address the obvious question: who would stay and who would go? Elsa had been afraid of delivering the grim news of eliminations, but it seemed her enemy had relieved her of that grave task, at least, as several suitors stepped forward.

Old Prince Cole began, "Well, the young buck might still have some spark left in him, but I'm afraid all of this excitement is a bit much for this old man." He approached the Snow Queen to kiss her hand formally, his lips barely brushing the air above it. "Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to get to know you, your majesty, though I do regret not having an opportunity to play music for you."

"Thank you, Prince Cole," Elsa nodded in acknowledgement, realizing that even if Prince Cole had never truly been a contender, she was glad to know him better, "May you forever consider myself and Arendelle your friends. Perhaps one day when these dark times have passed I will get to enjoy your merry song."

Cole smiled at the thought and took his leave, whistling as he went.

Duke Archibald and Theidor also offered her their resignations, the former shaking from nervousness and the latter bored with the whole process. Even feigning regret at seeing them leave was too much for the Snow Queen and neither man seemed particularly sad to go. Archibald looked almost relieved. The most awkward moment of the morning came when it was time to say goodbye to Lord-something-or-other. "Thank you, Lord . . ." Elsa trailed off uncertain, but the lord sighed, seemingly resigned to this.

"Reginald, your majesty, my name is Reginald." Even poor Reginald's voice was an unremarkable bland monotone.

Elsa cringed with embarrassment, but thanked Lord Reginald all the same.

She was about to excuse the remaining suitors, visions of lunch followed by a very well-deserved nap already floating through her mind when an idea, half-formed and unrefined struck her with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. "I should hope the enemy is exhausted as I am . . ."

"Gentlemen!" She smiled brightly, the expression boarding on devious as she summoned her inner-Anna, "Surely you didn't think it would be that easy? The Second Tournament awaits!"

Although they were plainly confused by the sudden turn of events the suitors were quick to excite at the thought of competing for the queen's favor again, especially now that the field was that much narrower. Ignoring Anna's pleas to know what her sister was planning, Elsa instead focused on watching the reactions of each suitor in turn. Hans looked dismayed, though that was unsurprising to the Snow Queen given how tired she knew he must be. She was unconcerned with his comfort, however. Pertyer and Farhajii were already boasting of their prowess despite not knowing what the challenge might be. Their show of bravado did little to impress the queen, though she had to wonder how the Desert King would fair given his own late-night investigations and early morning ride. Next to the young prince and Dessert King the twins looked almost tame by comparison. The brothers were both still, their faces set into identical lines of grim determination. Einarys could have been bored for all of the attention he paid his fellow suitors, though he did spare Garreth a small smile when the nervous young man made his way back into the hall. Off to the side, Prince Bertrem hovered around the edges, trying and failing at aloof confidence.

Elsa quickly informed Kai of what she would need from the staff and gave him a few minutes lead while she finally filled Anna in on her plan. "Anna," she smiled with as much confidence as she could muster, "we're having the Second Tournament now."

"Uh, yeah, duh," Anna rolled her eyes and scrunched her nose up in annoyance, "I kind of got that. But after everything that happened last night is right-this-second really the best time for a tourney?"

"Everything that happened last night is precisely the reason right now is the ideal time for a tourney," Elsa lowered her voice, schooling her features so that she appeared to be discussing something mundane rather than a conspiracy against the crown, "What if our enemy is already amongst us? Likely, last night will have worn him out as much as it did me." She returned her voice to its normal volume, "And this tournament will give us an opportunity to measure each man's stamina." It seemed she had over-compensated for her lowered voice because now several heads were looking in her direction, more than one eyebrow raised. Anna was blushing. "Oh! That's not what I meant!"

"Haha," Anna dragged her sister along toward their destination, "Oh wow, Elsa, you sure know how to put words to poetry! Let us go," here she dropped her voice suggestively, "measure each man's stamina."

Now Elsa was blushing, too, but as the suitors in their wake laughed at their sisterly banter she understood the reason for Anna's teasing. 'They're all watching. Put on a show.' In this dangerous game it seemed even the walls were made of smoke and mirrors.

She and Anna worked together to open the heavy doors of the armory with a flourish. If she had appreciated Kai's work in the past, it was nothing compared to how she felt seeing every detail she had asked of him seen to by his expert hand. Heavy tumbling mats were carefully laid out, a rack of blunted and padded weapons along with appropriate armaments were ready for the suitors, and a large viewing dais dominated the left side of the combat grounds. To the right, four tables had been arranged with chess boards already in place, the little black and white pieces arranged with military precision.

"Gentlemen, chose your weapons," Elsa announced dramatically, "today's tournament will be a single round of melee combat followed by a test of mental endurance." Most of the suitors seemed excited, the more eager ones already examining the weapons and armor while even the meeker combatants eyed the chess-boards with interest.

It didn't take long for the suitors to find appropriate weapons and armor. As servants helped them to tie their laces and secure their helmets, Elsa took the opportunity to make note of the weapon each preferred. She was immediately surprised to find that in combat, at least, the twin's chose very differently; a rapier fit nicely into Edwin's gloved hand while Edric preferred a mace, deadly looking even with dulled tips. Hans favored a cutlass, while Einarys carried a longsword. Stefan had picked a bastard sword, but was clearly uncomfortable with its heft. Here her gaze lingered as Bertrem struggled to lift a heavy claymore and she fought not to laugh at the sight. Farhajii carried a giant war-hammer, tossing it from hand to hand as though it weighed nothing. Pertyer carried a much smaller variation of the same weapon and Elsa suspected he was merely copying the king as his movements lacked any sort of grace. Most surprising of all was Garreth's choice of a thick quarterstaff more than capable of blocking a blow or two from the men's heavier weapons. If the boy knew how to use it.

The men wandered toward the mats take their places for the melee while she and Anna made their way to the dais where they might be able to view their progress better. Her Master of Secrets would also be observing the match, but none need know the every third servant present was in his employ but the Master and his queen. The melee was a simple distraction, a slight of hand, meant to wear the suitors out physically and key their minds up on a warrior's high. Then the true test would begin.

"Gentlemen," Elsa addressed the combatants, "Master Bjorgman and our Master at Arms, Sir Jordess will referee the match. At any time if you are called out of feel incapable of continuing I ask you step to the side," she gestured to the far-side of the mat where the chess-boards waited, "where the second round of the tournament will commence. Brains or brawn, gentlemen. Who will win?"

With another gesture the field was set, the suitors taking up tactical positions on the mats while Kristoff and Sir Jordess fanned out around the periphery. Elsa was free to observe from the sidelines both the physical mental challenges set out before her suitors. Until the time was right for her to strike.

"Begin."

The few who hesitated were quick to regret it. Bertrem was barely able to bring the claymore up in time to block a heavy blow from Edric's mace, the latter having sensed easy prey. His twin's brother's lithe blade sought to find a target through Stefan's meager defenses. Elsa's heart lurched at the sight of him struggling to wield a weapon against so many noblemen trained in the art of fighting since a young age, but then Farhajii's war-hammer began to rain down and she was reminded not all who fought were noble by right. Some had to earn their privilege through blood, which was more than any nobleman could say.

The king's blows were fierce and well-aimed, his left hand as dexterous and deadly as his right. Duke Einarys suffered the Desert King's violent attentions patiently just outside of the hammer's range, waiting for the moment the king over extended himself to strike with his longsword. Farhajii narrowly avoided the "fatal" strike by rolling to the side, catching his opponent off-guard with the motion and sending the military man sprawling into the fray. Einarys managed to regain his footing easily, but not before Bertrem tripped over the obstacle the man proved and almost fell head-long into Hans' cutlass, aimed only moments earlier at Edric's ribs, the twin already setting his sights on the next opponent. At the last moment, Hans noticed the danger and moved his blade, Bertrem's unguarded flanks just missing the blunted steel while Elsa breathed a sigh of relief. Almost for his own good, Elsa thought, Hans pressed the tip of the blade to the boy's throat, relenting when the referees called Bertrem out.

There was little time to celebrate before Edric was back in position, now supported by his brother, in a fight against Hans. The Southern Prince was breathing heavily by now, clearly exhausted, but even as mace and rapier sought to strike him down he avoided their attacks easily, eventually frustrating Edric to the point the mace-wielding brother began to go into a frenzy, his swings becoming wilder, the look in his eye fiercer. Even Elsa gasped when he pushed his brother out of the way to get at his opponent, Edwic's rapier clattering to the ground while Hans was doing everything he could to merely dodge the heavy blows. Though she would never admit it, she feared for the Southern Prince's safety. She was about to halt the match when both judges called out Edric out. The entire field seemed to still when they realized the "finishing" blow was delivered not by Hans, but by Edwin, now back on his feet, his rapier pressed to his brother's back. "Yield, brother."

Edric laughed, the sound guttural, almost cruel, and glanced at his twin over his shoulder. Elsa held her breath until he smirked and dropped his weapon though it didn't really make him appear any less dangerous. "I yield, brother."

Edwin clasped a hand to his heart and lowered his blade to his side. "I yield, as well. My brother is not feeling well and I must attend to his needs. If your majesty would be so kind as to release us from today's tournament we should like to forfeit."

Elsa found the whole ordeal suspicious indeed, but saw no reason to deny them. Even as she nodded her head in accent and watched the two brothers leave the hall a serving girl slipped out after the brothers. The twins would be observed, of that she was sure.

The men were uneasy now, the fury of battle drained out of them like water through a sieve. The only combatants left included an exhausted Hans, Duke Einarys, Duke Garreth, and King Farhajii. She regretted that she had missed the majority of Stefan's match as well as whatever "finishing" blow did in the arrogant Pertyer, but she doubted either had been the spectacle of the brothers' forfeit. The men reassembled themselves across the mat and waited for her signal.

Even after the fight recommenced, the excitement was gone from the match. Garreth's quarterstaff hummed in the near-silent air, interrupted only by the occasional grunt of pain or exertion. Farhajii and Einarys still battled, though without any of their initial violence, while Hans made a half-hearted attempt at defeating Garreth, but the younger boy was much more alert than his older opponent. Thus far, most of the men had concentrated on bigger game, only taking a swing at the boy when he was in convenient range, which wasn't often. In ignoring the threat the young duke posed he was now vibrant and rested where his opponents were wearing out.

Finally, in one deft motion, Garreth knocked the cutlass from the Southern Prince's grasp. Both men stared at the prince's empty outstretched hand in surprise before Hans laughed and raised his arms in a gesture of surrender. "You win, boy. Well done, indeed."

Garreth grinned and turned his attention to the last remaining combatants, still locked in their deadly dance with little attention to spare for anything outside of it. Still smiling from ear-to-ear the young duke ran full-tilt into the fray, dropping to his knees at the last moment to slide by Einarys with his staff outstretched behind the man's legs. Einarys went down hard, his sword clattering to the ground with the sound of finality. Garreth would have perhaps been able to get the jump on the Desert King, as well, but the monarch was quick to react, spinning round to meet his new opponent head-on as Garreth came back around for a second pass. The boy slipped under the king's reach easily, but was caught broadside by the older man's war-hammer as he swung round. Even though there was no way the king had used anywhere near his full strength Garreth was sent sprawling, his staff lost in the fall.

Lying on the mat, gasping for breath, Elsa was sure the boy was stunned until he started laughing. "Wow! That was so much fun!" He took a deep breath and jumped to his feet, still full of the wry energy only youth can afford. Farhajii watched the boy with bemusement, "Oh, yeah, I yield by the way, King Farhajii. You're just way too tough for me to take! I mean, if I had Queen Elsa's help we could totally beat you, but one-on-one I just can't win!" He laughed again.

Elsa laughed as well. "You might just get what you ask for, Duke Garreth. King Farhajii, you have beaten all of these men in combat, but how will you fare against one woman?"

"Excuse me?"

"The game is chess," Elsa gestured for her own chess-board to be brought out, the pieces shining gold and silver in the afternoon light, "And I will be your opponent."

The men were placed into pairs based on their elimination from the melee. Bertrem and Stefen were already playing their first match while Hans and Pertyer were just starting. Einarys and Garreth would play one another while she challenged the king himself. The winner from each of the other three matches would also have a chance to test themselves against her skills.

Farhajii's grin was haughty as he made his way to the dais, shedding padded armor in his wake. "What use are little pieces to a true warrior on the battlefield?"

Elsa held up her queen, examining the crucial piece in the sunlight, "What use indeed?"

Warrior the Desert King may have been, but tactician he was not. It took the Snow Queen mere moves to place his king in check.

"Bah," the king scowled magnificently and she thought he might flip the board. She almost anticipated its violence.

Her second match was against Steffan, winner of his round with Bertrem. Apparently, neither of the men could have known much about chess as he was a novice player, at best, but she enjoyed his company all the same. At least he was a gracious loser. The next game against Hans lasted much longer and although she was sure on a good day they could have played for hours, it was clear neither of their hearts were in it. After a little preamble, she managed to corner his king with her queen, tough she highly suspected he had allowed her to win if only to be done with the whole façade. Her final match against Einarys was easily the most challenging, especially now that she had been awake well over one full day.

"I see her majesty has studied the game of chess," the duke remarked quietly while the queen considered her next move. He had her in a bad spot, primed to lose either her knight or her bishop. She just had to decide which one she was going to sacrifice.

"I have studied a great many things, sir," Elsa decided to save the knight and watched grim faced as her bishop was swept away by Einarys' rook, "But you are quite skilled yourself. It has been a while since I've faced such a challenging opponent."

"All a matter of practical experience," he assured her, "When one views the game as a battlefield and sees the pieces for their strengths and weaknesses it's all just a matter of taking advantage of the possibilities before you. One needs only maneuver the pieces in the right time."

For all of his military expertise, Elsa's gamble paid off nicely, her knight playing a crucial role in her victory.

"It seems out tournament has ended in a draw," Elsa announced, "King Farhajii has proven the Champion of Strength while Duke Einarys is clearly the master of wit. Duke Einarys, if you would be so kind as to meet me for brunch we may spend the afternoon celebrating your victory. King Farhajii, I shall see you privately for supper."

"Need I remind her majesty she already owes this man a meal?"

'Damn, I had almost forgotten.' "Perhaps dinner and a nightcap will suffice?"

Farhajii smiled triumphantly. "More than."

Unbidden, her attention traveled to Hans, but his expression was as drawn and opaque as a shuttered window. She imagined what it would be like to share a bottle of wine in the library with the Dessert King and the image seemed all wrong in her mind. "I shall make arrangements. Until later, all."

The day was finally done.

Elsa practically collapsed onto the couch letting her head loll along the back, exposing the long expanse of her neck to her companion's gaze. Her own eyes were shut in weary exhaustion. She held out a hand blindly for the cup of wine Hans passed to her. "What an unmitigated nightmare."

"Hmmn," he hummed in agreement. Elsa almost shuffled aside awkwardly when his weight settled near her, but decided the effort required for such an action was well beyond her current means. Besides, she realized after a few minutes, it really wasn't that uncomfortable to suffer his presence, the heat of his leg radiating into her hand resting on the cushion between them. "I must admit, courting you has turned out to be much more of a challenge than I had anticipated."

She let out a breathy half-laugh before taking a sip of wine, its warmth spreading through her limbs. "Courting me? Is that what you've been doing? I had nearly forgotten."

"I haven't," his response was so quick and full of passion Elsa's eyes shot open. She didn't seek him out immediately to ascertain his honesty; it had been easy enough to hear in the inflection of his voice. Instead, she stared up into the library ceiling watching the flickering shadows cast by the fire in the hearth and tracing the blurry edges where their dance was lost in the black expanse of the room.

When she finally slid her gaze toward the prince he had already composed himself, gauging her reaction carefully over the brim of his wine-glass like a hunter watching startled prey that has yet to flee.

"Hans," she blinked slowly, almost expecting him to disappear in the moment between the closing and opening of her eyes, "this can't possibly work." Some small part of her heart broke the moment she uttered the words, but she ignored the quailing in favor of the triumph that seared through her hot and heavy. It seemed her greatest joy came from denying him, from bringing him ever lower. Nearer the earth.

His expression hardly changed as he simply looked at her grim-faced, brows drawn in consternation. Under the weight of his gaze, Elsa felt herself quailing, the lies in her words almost tangible, as obvious as though she written them down and scratched it out in the same breath. "What part?"

She didn't dare look away. "Any part." 'Lies.'

"Not even the part where you actually enjoy spending time with me?"

"I don't." 'Lies.'

"Not even the part where you're horribly attracted to me?" He turned his whole body toward her, his leg now caging her fingers loosely beneath it, the heat no longer comfortable but burning into her like a brand. She held as still as a deer staring into the eyes of a wolf, already aware of its fate yet still unable to do anything to prevent the violence to come.

"I'm not." 'Lies.'

He actually had the audacity to laugh, the tone soft and sure, so certain of his success. She wanted to feel indignant, but instead she found her eyes closing of their own violation so that she could simply focus on the sound of his voice. "Not even a little bit?"

"Not even the slightest bit." 'Lies. Lies. Lies.'

Hans chuckled, warm and confident and far too close for the Snow Queen's liking. "The only person you're good at lying to is yourself, Elsa." When he suddenly shifted and stood, Elsa almost let out a sigh of relief, glad to be free of his attentions and the inconvenient feelings it instilled in her.

"Why do you like to bait me so?"

"Why do you rise to the occasion?" She smiled at that. She was stilled annoyed with him, but Elsa was willing to let her anger go in favor of companionable silence.

The Snow Queen made herself comfortable on the small couch while her companion poured himself another glass of wine. Her sprawl now took up over half of the small settee and though the Southern Prince raised his eyebrows at her behavior he wisely did not comment. After she declined his offer to refill her glass – afraid of what the combination of alcohol and lack of sleep might lead her to admit – Elsa was surprised that the prince took a seat on the floor near her. He leaned back with his arms along the edge of the couch and was seemingly content to watch the flames die down.

Elsa was tempted to use the rare opportunity to ignore him altogether, to follow his example and watch the fire burn itself out in silent contemplation, but her eyes kept lingering on the smooth crescent of his cheek. From her vantage she could almost count the freckles that dusted his pale skin and noted that his hair was longer than she remembered, spilling over the collar of his shirt and brushing the tops of his ears. She idly wondered how long it had been since he'd had a haircut and then laughed lightly at her own musings.

"What's so funny?" He turned to regard her and she startled by how close they were, her languid posture putting her nearly eye-level with him. When he bent an arm to make himself comfortable it brought them into an almost intimate position. Suddenly, Elsa wasn't laughing anymore. She couldn't even remember what she had been laughing about.

Instead of answering him, she said the first thing that came to her mind. "Where did you get that scar?" It was an old wound, drawing a neat line perpendicular to the cut of his jaw and disappearing somewhere under his chin. It could hardly be described as noticeable, but now Elsa found it was the only thing she could focus on.

"My brother, Amund," his voice was tinged with bitterness and resignation, "He was, ah, training me in the art of the sword."

"I somehow think you're leaving out the finer details," Elsa had her suspicions about Hans' relationship with his family, but it was hard to know what he felt or what motivated him beyond his lust for power. Even so, the Snow Queen had to wonder what had instilled those desires in the first place.

"Perhaps," he smiled, though it couldn't have been called a happy expression. "Lucky for me, he gave me a matching set." Hans tilted his head and she was able to see an almost identical mark on his right cheek. Except that this one was clearly much newer, the skin still pink and raised around the edges. Although Elsa was loath to feel pity for the Southern Prince, and was almost certain he would use her gentle feelings against her given the opportunity, she couldn't help the little gasp that escaped her, "Why?"

"For you." Even Hans seemed surprised by his candor, sitting up-right, eyes wide and fingers tense along the edge of the couch. Elsa's heart raced wildly and she fought to keep her expression in check, lest she react like some maid in a tale of romance, helpless to the raging or her own emotions.

"What do you mean?"

He seemed reluctant to tell her until her lips thinned and she narrowed her eyes dangerously. "It was part of my punishment. In the eighth month I was given to Amund to punish as he saw fit, within reason, of course. Let's just say Amund likes sharp toys."

"Hans," before she could stop herself she had already reached out, her thumb catching the edge of the scar and the rest of her hand cupping he firm line of his jaw. 'Damn, now I am acting like a maid from a romance.' Her sudden unexpected action had caught them both unawares, betwixt and between, until Elsa's thumb moved and Hans closed his eyes –

This was exactly how Kristoff and Olaf found them. In the few shocked seconds between the library doors flying open and the little snowman's rather unnecessary announcement, "Elsa! We were looking all over for you!" Hans and Elsa stared at one another dumbly, her hand still lingering on his jaw, before they sprang apart like guilty children caught breaking the rules. But there was nowhere to go, no way to look less conspicuous and no way Kristoff wouldn't have seen – 'What exactly did Kristoff see?' Had she really been about to kiss Hans? 'What absurdity.' But Elsa knew that was exactly what it would look like.

Luckily for her, Olaf either didn't realize how awkward the situation was or just didn't care. Either way, the snowman rattled on incessantly. "Elsa! I'm just so glad we found you! Anna has hot-chocolate and marshmallows ready, but she won't let us have any until you're there so we really need to get you there, like ten hot-chocolates ago."

"Goodness, had I but known the stakes were so high," Elsa smiled indulgently for her favorite creation, "I need two more minutes, okay? Can you go ahead and let Anna know Kristoff and I are on our way?"

"Yeah, Olaf," the mountain man sounded uncharacteristically serious, "We'll catch up in just a few."

"Sure thing, guys," Olaf did his best impression of a formal salute, "but you'd better hurry up or Anna will just send out another search party. But since you two are here it will mostly just be me. She'll send me."

The queen was reluctant to meet the mountain man's gaze, but knew he wouldn't be so easily dismissed as the snowman. "So, about that hot chocolate?" Elsa was surprised when Kristoff gestured toward Anna's rooms, clearly just as desperate to be done with the awkward scene as she was.

"Oh, yes, let me, um, just," she looked at Hans, who was already standing offering her a formal hand she wasn't sure if she should accept. 'Whose side am I on here, exactly?' She smiled when she remembered and took the Southern Prince's hand, 'That's right, I'd almost forgotten: I'm on my own side.' "Thank you for keeping me company, Prince Hans," she curtsied and wanted to laugh because now she did feel like a girl caught with a young man her father didn't approve of, but it was funny rather than mortifying.

Hans smiled. "It was my pleasure, your majesty. I hope we can do it again sometime soon."

And if Elsa had been winning any awards for keeping her composure that was the line that did her in. All at once she was giggling and blushing like mad, trying hard not to look like an absolute crazy person and failing pretty miserably. "Alright, that's enough out of you. Goodnight, Prince Hans. Kristoff! Escort me to my sister and the distant promise of hot chocolate, if you don't mind. I'm afraid I'm so tired I might fall asleep in the hall." As if to punctuate her statement she let out a bone-rattling yawn.

Elsa was surprised when Kristoff didn't comment right away on her choice in company or the scene he walked in on. As they made their way towards Anna's chambers any number of excuses, royal commands, and even threats tumbled through Elsa's mind before the mounting anxiety finally broke her, "Kristoff, what you saw –"

"It was all part of Anna's plan, right?"

"Anna's plan?"

"Anna's plan to ruin Hans' life while also finding you the very best man plan, remember?" He gave the last word a significance that brought Elsa up short.

"And if it wasn't?" She felt defiant, but also hopeful that Kristoff, of all people, wouldn't judge her. At the very least, he could keep a secret.

The mountain man's expression darkened though he didn't look angry, merely resigned and little sad. "Then I would say you are playing a very dangerous game."

end chapter eight.