Economics was boring and Ludwig was tired. Dreams plagued him every night. The same one, over and over again. Barely changing now. He noticed Feliciano nodding, the boys head started to sink to the desk and Ludwig stuck his elbow in the boy's ribs. Feli's head shot up and he looked at Ludwig in surprise.

"Stay awake. This is important." Ludwig hissed, refocusing on the tutor at the front of the room. He wanted to sleep too. However, the idea of sleeping when he was supposed to be learning his new duties was offensive.

The Jack nodded sadly, "Right. Sorry, It won't happen again. "

The tutor stopped his droning and glanced back at the pair of royalty, "Do you understand the laws of supply and demand?"

"Yes, sir." Ludwig said.

The Jack looked nervous, "Um, maybe, ve?"

The tutor frowned slightly, "What is confusing, Master Jack?"

The boy squirmed and refused to look up at their teacher, "Um, all of it?"

Ludwig wanted to scream. He did not want to go through the whole lesson again. He did not want to spend one more moment in this small room, when the outside was becoming and the royal guard had promised to teach him forms in sword fighting. No, Ludwig did not want to be here.

However, his being here was necessary. His being here was important to his future and the future of Hearts. His being here to listen to the whole lesson again, did not seem necessary or important to anything.

Feli learning this stuff was important though. In fact, this being economics, it was essential that the Jack underst-

There was a crash and a string of cussing. Immediately, Feliciano was up, yanking the door open and popping his head out into the wall.

"Mater Jack! Please come ba-"

Feliciano was gone, darting out of the room, door closing behind him with a soft click. For a moment, the room was silent. Ludwig sighed, giving the tutor an apologetic glance, "I can get him back."

"That you sire. Please do!"

Ludwig stood and walked out into the wall then stopped. At the far end of the corridor had once stood a pair of book shelves, one on either side to the double doors that lead to the library. Both shelves were toppled, books in scattered heaps and two stood around the mess.

One was cussing and one was in complete panic.

Ludwig suppressed a sigh as he stalked down the hallway toward the pair, "Lovino? Feliciano? Don't you have something better to be doing than destroying the castle?"

The darker haired boy's head jerked up, "You shut up you basterd! No one asked you and no one is asking now! Go stick your stupid nose into someone else's business!"

"You're interrupting lessons, pulling Feli away from his duties, that makes it my business."

Feli yelped, "I'm so sorry! He didn't mean to! We'll clean it up! I promise! We've got this! You go back to-"

"NO!" Ludwig's voice echoed through the hall and he fixed Feli and Lovi with a glare. There was only so much of this ridiculousness one person could take and he was done. They had a kingdom to run and while they had been rulers for months now, Kiku still did all the work.

Feli froze, eyes wide as he started at Ludwig, then he and Lovino shrunk back.

"No, YOU will go back to the lesson right now and I and Lovi will fix this. You will not leave again, you will not fall asleep, you will pay attention and if you don't understand you will stay with the tutor until you do." Ludwig glowered at the pair, "Have I made myself perfectly clear Master Jack?"

Feli's mouth opened, but no sound came out but a soft meep. His mouth snapped shut and he nodded quickly. Skirting around Ludwig quickly, the boy darted down the hall and disappeared back into the room where the tutor waited.

For a moment all was quiet, the Ludwig stooped over and started collecting the scattered books. He started getting them into piles and put them to the side. He had maybe three piles before he looked up at Lovino who was still standing where he had been.

"Well? Are you going to help me?" His voice was flat, he was careful to keep his face emotionless and to not sound mad.

"No."

He twitched, voice growing a little louder, "Why not?"

Lovino fixed him with a piercing gaze and folded his arms, "Don't. Yell. At. Feliciano." Lovi spoke slowly as if speaking to an idiot, his tone hard and his face set into a harsh frown, "Ever."

Ludwig straightened up, dropping the books he was holding. They slapped against the ground with a loud, sharp sound, but Lovino didn't flinch, "I will yell at Feli if he so insists on being such a child when the kingdom needs him so much."

Lovino sneered, "The kingdom does need him, you're right, but they need him as him." He threw up his hands, taking a few steps toward Ludwig, "Have you looked around? Have you opened your eyes?! People are scared you basterd! People are frightened and right now, what they need is a monarch who can smile at them and tell them, full heartedly believing it, that things are going to be okay!" Lovino turned, snatching a book off of the nearest stack and flipped it open, then closed again in an agitated manner, as if he was just trying to keep his hands busy, "The kingdom needs a Jack who understands Economics, but the people need a Jack who can give them something you and the Queen can't: Hope. Damn it man! Feli is special! Why can't you see that!? The people love him for him! So you listen to me you jerk ass, don't ever yell at him for being him!" With that Lovino turned on heel and stalked away.

Ludwig watched him go in silence. Lovi ranting was normal. Lovi yelling and complaining was normal. Lovi defending Feli was not. Without a word, Ludwig picked up where he left off, getting the books into stacks and then propped the big book case up again.

Did the people need hope? Hearts was the best coming out of the war. They were doing well, trade was up and Ludwig had thought moral was as well. What did Hearts have to fear? Nothing. Winter was coming and things were going to be okay. Gilbert had told him and Kiku what to do, and they were doing it. Things would be easy, but it would be manageable and it would be okay.

What did Hearts have to fear? Why were the people afraid?

The corridors were dark and shadows twisted and warped into mist which reached out and touched Francis as he walked quickly through the silent castle. The air was cold and damp, there seemed to be a constant current that kept the mists rolling, but it was a current that Francis couldn't feel.

The magic around him seemed to spark without a sound, it was a tense, static thing that seemed to be trying to repel him. Francis wasn't the best at magic, it was something he had never cared to master, but that didn't mean he wasn't capable. Diamond's specialty was Thought as Francis reached out with his magic to the world around him, it was the equivalent of opening his mind and reaching out, tapping his environment with his mental power. Had there been people around, this would fill his head with senseless words of the thoughts of the people around him. In another other place, touching a wall with his mind told him a just a little bit about the wall, like an imprint or shadow of past people's thoughts. It was the sort of thing that might help you navigate a maze or forest and it really ought to have been useful in this situation. However, his mind reached out and brushed the castle around him, and se was filled with a cold emptiness.

It was as if the place he was now in didn't actually exist, there was no imprint, no magical signature. How did that work? No magical signature, but nearly over flowing with magic? Overflowing to the point of having a physical manifestation?

Francis shivered, quickly pulling his mind back and trying again, reaching out and searching for the thoughts of another being. He heard something. It was faint and a long way off, but it was there. He turned down in the direction of the thoughts and picked up speed. He walked quickly and kept his mind clinging to that trace of a thought, it grew stronger so that he could hear it, but still he wasn't able to make sense of it.

It sounded like a child. A child crying.

He as he walked the sound grew more and more distance and the hallway widened out into a large ovular room. Off to one side was a small blue glowing orb, surrounded by a thicker mist than clung to his feet. He walked toward it and as he watched, the orb seemed to shift, as if there was a roiling, living thing trapped in it's glassy walls. The crying became louder, then seemed to choke, the voice of the child was soft, weak and scared.

"I don't want to die."

Francis froze, staring at the orb. As the child's words were spoken, the orb glowed a little brighter, then faded again. The king crouched down to look at the glowing ball and again a voice came.

"Don't let me die. I don't want to. I-I don't want to go into the ground."

Again the child seemed to choke and the sound melted back into s soft sobbing. "Don't let me. I don't wanna. No. No. I don't. It hurts. I don't want to die."

Something in the air seemed to shift and Francis's head jerked up, eyes darting around the dark mist filled room. Again, the shadows seemed to warp, the mist moved with a life of it's own and again the tempture dropped. Francis could see his breath coming out in puffs. His eyes darted back to the orb in front of him and to his horror the blue light started to fade, the sobbing once again seemed further away.

He reached out with his magic, wrapping his conscious around the orb and felt his cheeks grow wet as he stepped into the mind of a child.

The boy was in what might have once been a richly decorated room, but the walls were faded and the curtains hung limp and dirty. He was sitting up in a bed and Francis could feel how cold the boy was despite the mountain of blankets covering him. Still, none of this was what Francis noticed first. What he saw first was the face the boy was looking tearfully up into.

It was the face of Arthur Kirkland, the Queen of Spades.

Arthur looked older than Francis had seen him last, though that wasn't all that long ago. Worry creased every part of the Queen's face, overshadowing the telltale signs of grief. It was the boy's grief that filled Francis.

The boy was scared. He was ill, very, very ill. He had the plague and hadn't gotten treatment. He was in the final stages and knew it. Peter had watched Seamus die of this sickness, he knew what was happening. Peter? Yes. Francis knew this boy's name was Peter because Peter knew his name was Peter. Seamus? That was Peter's older brother. Yes. That's right an-Arthur? Arthur was also Peter's brother. The Queen. Arthur was coming to save him. Arthur came and things would be okay now. It would be. He didn't want to die. He was in so much pain. He didn't want to cry. He couldn't help it. He-Francis yanked his own mind back, forcing himself to focus on which thoughts belonged to him and which thoughts belonged to the boy. He wished he was better at magic. Talent and power were two different things and Kingship only bestowed power.

He could see the world through this boy, Peter's, eye. He could see Arthur and feel Peter's tears. He could feel how much each breath hurt, being dragged in to small lungs in ragged gasps. It felt like bricks were stacked on Peter's chest and his throat burned. Crying didn't help, it made it worst and he could feel how hard Peter was trying to calm down.

Peter was scared.

"Shhhh. Pete, it's okay, shhhhhh, it's okay sweet. It's okay, you aren't going to die. You won't. We have healers, we have medicine, you are going to be okay." Arthur's voice was soft, kindly and stressed, unlike anything Francis had ever heard out of the Queen before. "Peter I'm going to take you back to the castle with me, okay? Allister is there and I'll send word for Rys, would you like that? It's going to be okay." Arthur was stroking Peter's forehead, a forced smile plastered on his face, "Peter? It's okay. Shhhhhh."

The boy nodded quickly, gasping for breath and rubbing his face to stay the tears. Suddenly Francis felt another magic enter Peter. He struggled, trying to identify it. It wasn't another mind it-Arthur. Arthur was doing something. He flet the weight lessen on Peter's chest, the pain growing lighter, but that didn't makes sense. Arthur was Spades, he couldn't heal. Spades controlled Time, how could Arthur lessen pain?

Unless.

It was Time he messed with.

Francis felt an unease grow as Peter started to relax. Arthur had messed with Time, hadn't he? Francis was not the best at magic, but it didn't feel like healing. Arthur had pushed Peter into the past, hadn't he? The Queen had turned back Peter's personal clock, pulling some of the sand from the bottom of the hourglass to the top. Peter was still sick, but he was now at an earlier stage of the plague, wasn't he? There was no way the child would notice it, just that Brother Made It Better. Francis had to admire Arthur for this, trying to save the kid, but it wasn't enough. He could feel that. Peter's body was failing. There was no way that Spades's medicine would save him.

Suddenly Francis felt a jerk. A yank mentally. A searing hot ran through him and he heard Peter cry out as Francis lost his control for a moment. Francis pulled his mind back, blinking and looking around again, the room was, if anything darker. The mist swirled around in an almost agitated manner and as he looked down he was horrified to see that the orb was glowing even less bright.

He scooped up the orb without a second thought, jumping to his feet and looking around for what had forced him to pull back from the child Spade. There was nothing.

The orb was warm in his touch, the soft sound of Peter was growing fainter by the second, the blue light dying. The mists started to collect around Francis again.

He started walking again, clutching the orb and heading back the way he came, no clear clue on what he could do, but if he could find the Red maybe the Joker would know what this orb was and why it was connected to the brother of the Queen of Spades.

The mists grew thicker, the air colder, Francis felt almost as if he was walking in a world of white and grey, the walls of the hallway seemed to melt away. He reached out a hand to touch the wall and felt nothing, he walked in the direction the wall ought to be and his hand met only more of the cold wet air.

Another spear of hot pain ran through him and he gasped, teeth gritting, stumbling to his knees and holding the orb tightly to his chest. It felt as if his body was on fire, but at the same time his limbs grew heavy, the warmth of this body seemed to be being sucked out of him. The white swirling of the mist was all he could see, it was all he could feel, it was an oppressive and encasing thing.

He pulled himself into a ball, fiercely wishing the mist away, focusing on the now gentle breathing of Peter that could still be heard faintly from the orb. He didn't understand what was happening. The Joker's Castle seemed to be a hell. His gaze locked on the dull light of the orb. It seemed to him to be a friendly thing. A nice thing, even if it was linked to a dying child. He-all at once the orb went dark, Peter's breathing gone and the orbs suddenly felt lighter.

For a third time, pain ripped through Francis, he couldn't help it, he screamed then his world went dark and Francis knew no more.

To start off, I am so sorry that this is so late. School has been less than kind to me and for a long time I lost the muse for this story. I don't know how many times I opened the document to start at it for hours and try to figure out what on earth was supposed to happen and how to put it into words. I'm sorry. I really do enjoy writing this one but with the lack of time and with my writer's block recently I haven't been able to update. I don't know when the next chapter will be but it WILL come. Today I'm updating both this story and Micro Law, I'm sorry about the unplanned Hiatus.

Thanks to all my reviews and I hope people continue reading this story. Conventional Criticism is always welcome.