Peter woke late every morning. He would curl up on his mangy sofa of faded green and watch TV, toying with the gash in the headrest and the stuffing within. His meals were small, but he compensated for their size with alcohol. After drinking his fill he would lie on the sofa until night fell. Then he would go to bed. The cycle began anew the next day. He had no visitors, no one to visit and went out just once a week to shop in the small stores of his neighbourhood. He found odd jobs to keep himself busy: clear this, empty that. Even those chores he couldn't keep. In fact, life only treated him worse with time. Sometimes he laughed at how soon he had forgotten his old life.

Knock knock knock-knock knock.

It was the second time in three days that someone had knocked his door after years of solitude. He heaved himself from the couch, joints groaning, and slid a hand into his right pocket as he approached. He drew a small kitchen knife, held in the sheath he had fashioned as soon as the first visitor had left. The weapon had never left his pocket since - fortunately, he slept on his left side. He held it behind his back as he unlocked the door. Then, reassured by its weight, he opened it.

His brain screamed at him to draw the blade. His body's first instinct was to gape at the intruder.

Agdar Arendelle.

His visitor stepped forward with his head held high. Peter stumbled out of the way, behind the door now as brought his hands up to clutch his head, only to realise his folly when the knife's handle tapped his skull. His eyes opened. He whirled around, holding it out. He aimed the tip at Agdar's neck despite the distance between them.

"Ge - get out!"

Agdar turned.

"Is that any way to greet someone you haven't seen for 15 years?"

"I'm warning you Ag - Agdar. Get off of my property."

"I'd much rather talk, old friend." He stepped towards the door, within stabbing distance. Unperturbed, he locked it, the loud click contrasting the soft thud of the wood meeting its frame. He turned to Peter. His eyes flicked to the blade still pointing at him. His lips curled upward. "And doesn't the government own this flat?"

His smile was slight but Agdar's eyes betrayed the depth of his merriment. Peter screamed. Lunged. Agdar leaned to his right and grabbed Peter's wrist as it sailed past. A twist. Peter howled, eyes closing from the pain. He dropped the knife. Felt its cold steel against his neck.

"Take a seat Peter." He opened his eyes. Agdar's face hadn't changed. "Make yourself comfortable."

Peter stood in a large room, looking anywhere but at the large chair before him. Portraits adorned the walls, framed by intricate patterns also crisscrossing the crimson carpet. Vases stood on plinths along the perimeter, a maid polishing them. He tried to catch her eye but she ignored him. He needed support. From someone. Anyone.

The snap of fingers drew his attention back to the man in the throne - for what was this but a throne room for a modern tyrant king? Agdar sat with his back straight, hair as tidy as it always was. The hand that beckoned Peter returned to his knee, his right draped around his three year old daughter, Anna.

"It's funny that you lose interest in me when I compliment you Peter. I'm being genuine."

"I - Is that so? Sir."

"Yes. It's Sessa all over again, isn't it?" Peter made no effort to hide his ignorance. Let Agdar think him uncultured. What more damage could it do? Agdar chuckled and shook his head. "Squirreling away a few pounds at a time and increasing the amount bit by bit? Very impressive. I can learn from that. If you'd quit while you were ahead you may have gotten away with it too. And that's not even getting into your nerve to ask for a legitimate raise!" He tutted. Anna giggled.

Peter bristled.

"If you want your money back Agdar, just ask."

"I do want my money back, but I don't need to ask." He smiled. "I'll just take."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid I don't trust your memory Peter. So I'm taking everything."

"What?"

"Think of it as an investment. I invested in you - without my knowledge - and now I'm reaping my profits. Say goodbye to your shiny new car and home." He continued through Peter's splutter. "No need to fret. I won't leave you on the streets; I'll put you in an out of the way place. Somewhere I can keep an eye on you and that mouth of yours."

Peter just blinked. He could salvage this. He wouldn't go down without a fight. He just had to think. He'd outplayed Agdar before. He just needed to do it again. Now.

"Do you really think you'll be able to do that? All it takes is one slip and the whole world find out about..." He grinned and straightened his back. "About a lot of things. For starters, you don't want anyone finding her, do you?"

"Huh?" Anna stirred at the word, drawing the attention of both men. Agdar stroked her hair and she curled into his side again. He replied, watching the child close her eyes.

"She was a weed to my family and dealt with accordingly. There's no shame in that." He looked at Peter. "But you're right: accidents can happen. That said, you can sleep easy knowing I can be quite effective when it comes to containing situations," he cocked his head and smiled, "or have you forgotten that in your bluster? It's only been three years."

Peter stilled, now a shade paler. He said nothing. Agdar was referring to a woman who had also tried to cheat him - and been caught. The incident had inspired him to do better, her feats a sign of what he could accomplish as much as much as her fate had been a warning. Agdar's smile widened. After another moment of silence he dismissed his former accountant with two flicks of his hand.

"Goodbye Peter. Anything we find tomorrow I'll assume you've generously donated. I hope we never see each other again."

"Y - yes sir."

"And?"

"...Thank you."

Agdar nodded. Peter hung his head and left, still shaking.

15 years.

Agdar had thrown him out 15 years ago, yet here he was, still making him tremble. Still ordering him around, demanding he sit on his own couch. The indignity of both was matched only by Peter's self loathing for not fighting back. He wanted to jump over the table between them and lash out, to choke the life out of the man. Instead he fought to compose himself. He knew he was failing. Agdar's knife hand had not wavered since he claimed it, still aimed at his neck. Now his former employer watched him, enjoying his squirms.

"Anna came here two days ago."

The abrupt start surprised Peter. It was a statement. Not a question.

"I - I didn't tell her anything."

If it wasn't a question, he shouldn't treat it as such. He shouldn't insult Agdar's intelligence.

"Not at first, but are you sure you didn't tell her anything after?"

"...Nothing."

"Really? Then you may find it difficult to believe Anna and I had an enlightening discussion the very next day."

"She blabbed?" Peter gaped. "How could she blab?"

"There we go! Now, what do you think she spoke about?"

It occurred to Peter that Agdar could be lying, that he had been spying on his daughter and all he knew was she had paid him a visit.

The revelation had come too late to help.

He had given in to her. He had seen what she was willing to do, hadn't wanted her to become her father and had done the right thing. And now?

"P - Please, I - I just told her - please don't kill me! I just told her she had a sister, that's all, I swear! Don't kill me!"

Agdar raised an eyebrow. "But it would be so easy!" He tilted the knife, its blade shining as its edge caught the light from the window on its right. "I could stick this in you right now. There would be no signs of a struggle or any fingerprints but your own." Peter looked at Agdar's hands. Gloved.

He planned this.

"Then there's your depressed state and the - " Agdar wrinkled his nose " - drinking. No one would ask many questions."

He shot forward.

Peter jumped, shut his eyes and screamed.

"But you're a joke."

Agdar leaned back and continued. "You don't deserve that freedom. Or attention. How much did Anna give you?"

Peter was still seeing the knife darting forward, so close to his neck, so close to ending him. He placed a hand over the exposed flesh and swallowed.

"In case you're considering lying to me again, let me spoil the fun and end this game early." Agdar flexed his shoulders and stretched. "I keep track of Anna's expenses so I already know. Just leave the money on the table." He tapped it with a gloved knuckle. "It's not like you're going to use it for anything important, but she will. I'll put it back in her account. She doesn't care for checking her balance and its running low as is."

In a flash, the knife was back at his throat. Peter jumped. A moment later he dropped the hand still protecting it and he exhaled his held breath. He reached out to the trousers draped on the couch to his right, all too aware of the sharp blade. He withdrew his wallet, the leather peeling away, and from it drew Anna's eleven notes. He held them out and flinched again when Agdar snatched them from his grip. When Agdar retreated he sprang back, hitting the couch. He didn't notice the sensation, only rubbing his freed neck.

"You won't kill her?"

"Kill my daughter?" Agdar moved the knife to his left hand with the notes, flicking through them with his right as he counted. "What kind of monster do you think I am?"

"Wh - what about your other girl?"

Agdar's knuckles went white on the notes and the weapon he still held. He put the notes in his pocket and stood, still silent. Peter shrank back against the couch, but Agdar did not even look at him. "I'm putting the knife in the kitchen and I'll be on my way." Finally he looked down at Peter, his gaze hard, cold. "You gave the money back so I'll spare you a repeat of last time. Again, hope you never see me again."

Peter didn't move until the door slammed shut. He ran to it. Locked it. Fell to the floor with his back against it. He wiped the sweat from his brow, wheezing.

"That's the one one one one one people leaved!"

Agdar blinked, surprised Anna had stayed awake for so long. He chuckled and ran his hand through her hair. She cooed and leaned into it, closing her eyes, smiling at the sensation.

"Been counting, have you?"

She looked at him and grinned. "Uh huh!"

Agdar couldn't resist patting her freckled cheek, prompting a brief giggle. It had been worrying to learn Anna still counted in "ones" at her age, but he and Ithun were happy with her growth in other areas. So what if she needed a bit more time than other children in this one?

"So who else have you seen me 'made leave'?"

Anna thought for a moment. She counted on her fingers, held three up to him then she looked around before pointing behind his right shoulder to the maid still at work, now in another corner of the room.

"That!"

He tapped her hand with his forefingers, smiling. She dropped it. "It's not polite to point Anna." He mouthed an apology to the woman who smiled back and waved it away before returning to the vase. "And who's the fifth? I mean, the other one?"

Anna looked around again, then at the portraits. Not finding a person to point to she jumped from his lap without warning. She stumbled. Agdar rose but Anna caught herself on her hands and feet, straightened up and turned to face him. She stood on her toes, pointed to herself and yelled "Me!" before losing her balance again. Agdar came forward but Anna caught herself a second time with her arms outstretched, her legs shoulder-width apart and giggled.

Agdar decided to stay on his knees after that.

Seeing her father hadn't understood her, Anna stood on her toes as before, this time holding a lock of her hair before him. She pointed to it.

"White!"

Realisation hit. His eyes widened but Agdar fought them back and managed a smile. "What do you remember about her?" Appeased, Anna smiled back. She stood properly, her hair falling back to the right side of her head. She pondered the question, her eyes flicking from side to side and her toes wriggling before she answered.

"Bedtime stories!"

Agdar took a deep breath. "What else?"

"Um...she sing'd good."

He didn't have to fake a smile this time. His eyes closed of their own accord as he chuckled, memories flooding in. "Yes, she did have a heavenly voice."

"Where is she?"

His smile vanished. His eyes shot open. "She... had to go. She - she left with one of the other maids. You know," he made to point at the maid working her way to the door but stopped himself in time, curling his raised hand into a loose fist.

"See her again?"

"...Never."

Anna opened her mouth but no words came out. She looked down, holding one hand in the other. Agdar grit his teeth and cursed himself. He'd planned this conversation. He'd plotted the story. He'd run it past Ithun, Kai, everyone. The entire household was in on it. They'd explained it to her many times already, he knew that. Why was it so hard to say the words?

"And..." he swallowed. Looked down. He couldn't see her face. "You'll have to forget about her." He swallowed again, then looked into her eyes. Only her eyes. "Can you do that for me?"

Anna cocked her head as she frowned. "How?"

"I don't know." He caught her by surprise with a hug. He pulled back a moment later, Anna unaware of the tears that had escaped his mask. "But we have to." He cupped her cheek. "Okay?" Anna looked at him for a moment more then nodded, still perplexed. He smiled one last time and ruffled her hair. She burst into giggles, cupping her mouth with both hands before running from the room. "Catch me!"

He chuckled but couldn't move. He stayed there, on his knees, rooted to the spot.

"She was a weed to my family and dealt with accordingly."

He chuckled again.

This time the sound lacked humour.

Lacked life.

One day I'll believe it.

One day they'd forget her songs.

Her smiles.

The light of her eyes.

The way she always demanded he keep his hair neat, that he sit up straight.

"We have to."