Thank you all for so avidly reading our continuing saga of Frozen Again!
We hope you enjoyed "Frozen Again: Faith, Hope, and Love'" (The start of this I Corinthians impactful verse) with all its adventure, romance, and fun all songfully mixed together in the fine Disney fairytale tradition!
I wanted to give that first part of the story of adventures with pirates and mystic ancient treasures, heart rendered re-meetings and blossoming love a proper close, so we could start our next new voyage of this sequel.
And now, this Book 2 sequel to my Frozen sequel is the one titled "Frozen Again: 'But the Greatest of These is Love'" with the next line of that soulfully meaningful Biblical message.
I hope you all read Book 1 'Frozen Again: Faith Hope & Love' s Epilogue at the end of the last chapter 'No Fear in Love'.
It was there that Helsa, Kristanna & Eupunzel's first thrilling adventures, after they vanquished the evil prate Houtebeen and discovered their lost, believed dead parents, beloved King Agdar and Queen Idun alive.
The story ended as a cliffhanger, full of Elsa longing for a certain redhead - an awakening emotion on a level that our formerly withdrawn, platinum blonde Queen of the Ice never experienced before, that Prince Hans-some has evoked within her.
And now, we can begin Frozen Again's Act V where it starts us off on our next leg of our journey, with the promise of beautiful Ice Queen Elsa's new mission to search and seek out to find her own unlikely true love in handsome, heroic, humbled Prince Hans…
Thanks again for reading and supporting Frozen Again as our romantic couples explore their love for one another in a new setting...Perhaps in this Book 2 we'll be traveling South of Arendelle next, to another Isle kingdom not so far away...
Wherever they roam, there's sure to be romance, drama, comedy and intrigue for our trio of Disney fairytale couples! ^_^
And there'll be an additional cast of characters Hans is familiar with in the Southern Isles, whom we'll meet in the heart of breathtaking Scandinavia, Odense, Denmark the birthplace of The Snow Queen's prolific creator, Hans Christian Anderson...
Welcome to the new romantic drama sequel - 'Frozen Again: But the Greatest of These is Love..'
and NOW it's sequel's sequel the third book in my Frozen Again trilogy 'Frozen Again: Love Never Ends', just launched on 4-16-17 to see the continuation of this one! Please come and join in the romance and fun after you're finished with this Book 2! Thanks for your avid support and readership! :)
P.S. Be sure to follow all 3 books to get the latest chapter update! :) And Olaf and Eliana love reviews!
Your Frozen friend and authoress, HarukaKou
We do not own 'Frozen' or any of its characters.
"Frozen Again'
Act V
Chapter 1
"Take Me Home Again"
The large, five-masted frigate Feia had docked with the hauled Gler into Norway's northern island of Lofoten port for repairs of the battle-worn, but still viable, naval craft as it goes in for an extensive overhaul after its first lifesaving mission at sea.
As its weary passengers disembark to step on the stability of dry land after their long and arduous, incredible journey involving a ruthless wicked pirate, a ferocious sea monster, and the deadly Moskenstraumen, on top of all that, they could all give a collective sigh of relief.
Although, being the last to descend the gangplank due to a quick change of clothing to her more modest and less attention-grabbing purple velveteen dress and matching jacket, Queen Elsa of Arendelle stops to gaze longingly behind her at the vacant deck of the Gler.
There, so many memories were born for the platinum blonde woman and the ghost of a certain redheaded man whom she had made Kommander of both the schooner ship and of her heart.
Even if Hans Westergaard was no longer present anywhere on the well-searched naval vessel.
With one last glance from the corner of her eye, Elsa suddenly sees the Dane's svelte figure, tall and gallant standing on the ship's top deck. Kommander Hans Westergaard was competently perched, his long-legged form with his naval telescope in hand, leaning against the bulwark railing of the ship that he served as its courageous Captain.
Just as he turns away, with the moonlight silhouetted behind him, Elsa was about to call out Hans' name. But her voice chokes in her throat when she realizes there was no one really there, just some faint reddish streaks of the Aurora Borealis hailing from the distant sky blinding her eyes. And Elsa's hopeful extended hand, gracefully reaching towards him, falls lifelessly to her side.
As the sea waves crash against the still hull of the deserted Gler where it was moored at the Lofoten wharf, Elsa sighs into this darkened late July early 2 AM morn. Now that the Midnight Sun days had ended, the first fall of a true dark night causes the beautiful blonde to close her eyes sadly, feeling that her summer was nearly over.
"Is Papa really going to be all right, Elsa?" Shivering as she calls upwards from the pier she was standing on, Princess Anna of Arendelle's usual happy and bubbly face, contorted with worry for her dear father, brings the older sister back to cold reality. Gazing down at her orangy-caramel haired little sister, Elsa finally breaks away from her reverie.
The Ice King had collapsed on the Gler earlier, after all the strain of his newly regenerated body after years of debilitation, then his overwhelming taking on fight with the Draugen sea monster to protect his family and country. Finally his momentous confrontation with the Moskenstraumen maelstrom was just too much for him to withstand.
Now at a loss for control, their Papa was internally struggling to keep his cryokinetics in check. His feverish involuntary coping with the process of healing, even as his developed ice powers were rebelling against his mortal warmth, just itching to be unleashed.
So it was up to Ice Queen Elsa to keep her father's physical body cool enough so that his cryo powers could be contained to ensure that the miraculous gifts of his renewed arm and leg would not be in vain.
"Yes, Anna. If we follow the Snow Queen's instructions, I am sure Papa will be fine. Your Papa is tougher than he looks, min spadbarns." (my little one) As she caresses her handsome mate's softly breathing cheek, Idun recalls her first meeting with her future husband, some twenty-four years ago. That was when her dashing Crown Prince of Norway had rescued and first touched the hand of this idealistic young Swedish Princess with his thin frame's surprising cool strength. Idun remembers how impressed she was when spectacular eighteen-year-old Prince Agdar lifted the surprised sixteen-year-old, Princess out of a rockslide danger easily over the precipice and up to his chest.
The certain electricity that had passed between Agdar and Idun on that special spring day had never been doused this quarter-century of constant love since…
"By the mercy of our Father above, your Papa will be normal again someday soon, with Elsa's help and a lot of rest on the journey home to Arendelle, Anna." Queen Idun answers her younger daughter, grateful to Gerda when the plump older woman comes scooting back-and-forth from the waiting carriage with a shawl to wrap around the diminutive Queen's shoulders.
"Yeah, he's a strong guy. I remember how he used to pick us up and spin us around the air like we were birdies! I was never too big to go for a ride with Papa!" Perking up, Anna giggles at the pleasant, fun memory, not too distant, of her ginger haired Papa, when her mother pets her smallest child's troubled brow and smoothes the wrinkles away.
"Elsa is the strong one now. Papa will be so pleased." Idun gazes with such warm pride upon her capable and ice proficient daughter that Agdar had spent many hours in anxiety over abandoning Elsa, all through their captivity, without ever explaining their ice connection when his Snow Princess needed him most.
"You're right! Elsa is so strong." Anna adds her own pride in her big sister's phenomenal abilities and capable mind to lead a country for these past two years without their parents.
Even from where she had been atop the Gler's vacated deck, the sad-eyed Elsa had been masterfully attending to her Papa where he was on the stretcher below, while Mama and Rapunzel were keeping vigil, taking turns singing their healing medley.
"I'm sorry, Anna. What were you saying?" Turning back on the Gler with a nod to faithful royal administrator Kai, who was ordering its repairs officially underway, Elsa glances to her little sister and blinks.
The Ice Queen had been continuing to sustain King Agdar's chilled body and monitoring his below normal temperature as the sailors carried his stretcher towards the coach awaiting their departure. But the dejected look that had left only traces of melancholy on Elsa's beautiful, quickly composed face, causes Anna to be worried anew now for her sister.
And though it pained her, Anna knew exactly the reason why Elsa was left sad.
"Just…" Anna smiles in the natural darkness, sensing how hard this all was for her Elsa. And even if Anna despised Prince Hans once upon a time, when she would have wished him to disappear like this, and just leave Elsa alone, many times on their incredible adventure, she didn't want it to be like this.
Anna loved her sister enough to recognize that Elsa's heart was breaking because that red-haired Casanova was no longer around.
I guess he's not a Casanova… He did truly seem to care about Elsa… And maybe this going away proves that he's not just mercenary and out to marry one of us to take over our kingdom anymore…
The good girl in Princess Anna concedes at last that even a heartbreaking scumbag, like Prince Hans was before, could be transformed by the power of the Almighty.
Anna's mind whirs with the forbearing thoughts of Hans' unexplained absence, without looking for acclaim nor gratitude for his important role in this daring adventure, that could mean he was genuine this time.
Yes, I guess he did his share, and then some. Even I can't deny it.
Just when we could use a helping hand, Hans would jump right in the thick of it, over and over. He was there for Elsa, too, when she needed him most.
And now that Hans was gone, Anna could appreciate all he did for her sister, all he did for all of them. Even though she herself believed Elsa could do better, there was no refuting that Prince Hans of the Southern Isles had made a lasting impression on Elsa's once closed heart.
"I love you, Elsa." Anna sympathizes with her beloved sibling by wrapping Elsa up in a big bear hug, feeling the cool icy tear on Elsa's cheek melt into the warmth of her ginger hair.
"We'll all be fine now, because we're family. Imagine! We're a real family again, Elsa!" The loving Princess whispers in Elsa's ear with an ecstatic squeeze to her elder sister's thin slender waist. Both smiling Arendelle princesses then link arms to walk over the quay to where Mama and Papa were being seated into the waiting carriage.
Agdar's semi-conscious form is carefully placed into the carriage to prop against Mama's accommodating shoulder as she gives her children a sweet motherly smile over Papa's weak, but breathing, head.
The two Norwegian girls, who had seen far too much loneliness and sorrow in their young lives, begin to cry with relieved tears of joy in one another's embrace at the realization that their cherished parents, who had been ripped from their lives far too soon, had been, by the grace of God, returned to them. And now, with their Mama and Papa back, everything would be just like it used to be again. But this time better, now that they truly understood one another.
There would be no more hidden, concealed secrets to stand in the way of their familial love and caring devotion for one another.
"Oh! Oh! Warm hug time! I want in, too!" Olaf interjects himself into the sisterly embrace. His cold mounds race across the planks of the dock wharf to bustle in between Elsa and Anna's leg until the boisterous clumsy snowman unwittingly hug stumbles them down to his level.
The collective stumbling snowman knocks an unsteady-on-her-pins Anna to fall back splat on her bloomer-ed behind. Her flailing legs and arms knock Olaf apart like a crashed house of cards as Elsa tries to keep her balance to gracefully sink to her knees upon a quickly created soft snow drift.
Relieved, exhausted, elated, overcome with so many emotions, the pair of young women together squish Olaf's various pieces in between their hugged laughter. Now, at the end of this arduous, dangerous journey that they surpassed together, helping and trusting one another with belief in their sisterly love, Elsa and Anna had become so much closer than they ever thought they could be.
Looking into one another's glistening eyes, Elsa and Anna burst into gleeful chuckles now, acting like the little kids from the childhood that was stolen from them, together again. Neither care what the astonished spectators were thinking as some chuckle along with the giddy duo of royal princesses. Anna and Elsa laugh until they were both in tears to watch their poor snowman scramble around, topsy-turvy upside down and headless in search of his disassembled stray parts.
"I love you too, Anna!" Elsa was in full fledged tears of relief now, drawing close the little sister who could always make her smile into a hug from where Anna was sprawled quite unladylike on the planked ground of the dock.
"Why are you crying? Are you hurt? Are you sad?" Reassembled, Olaf innocently blinks up at the pair of females. The dense frozen friend only associated tears with unhappiness. He was yet to discover why humans shed their bodily moisture for intense emotions on either side of the spectrum.
"No, Olaf. We have our Mama and Papa back! Why would be sad?" Fully into Anna's sunny frame of mind, Elsa sniffles back tears to smile bravely through her weeping heart and prove to herself and Anna that she could be strong for their family to be whole again.
"Good point, Elsa." A much deeper, more masculine voice than Olaf's responds from behind, which causes a suddenly self-conscious, blushing Elsa to leap up and immediately rise to her own feet with a start at Kristoff Bjorgman's bemused voice behind her.
Pompously, a mortified Kai, in-motion towards the carriage, scoots around the common and shirtless, lowly mountain man's wide shouldered frame to hastily intercept and offer his snobbish assistance to his honored Queen to steady his charge in Kristoff's place.
Arendelle's snooty High Counselor was just finishing speaking with the naval yard's port master as they addressed Ensign Jan, who was explaining where his other injured Navy shipmates had been safely deposited on Mosken island, as per Vise Admiral Westergaard's order.
With a quick salute to Elsa to avoid her about-to-question stare, the young helmsman mixes in with the gaggle of bustling sailors in their busy duties attending to the Gler, until he can no longer be seen.
Though fully capable of standing on her own, a still splat on the quay Anna lets her adoring body be pampered and lifted straight up as if she were a weightless dolly to her rugged mountain man's muscular strong arms.
"Anna." With a smirk at good-old Kai, Kristoff only need utter her name for the ginger Princess to feel like totally melting into the ripped bare chest of her gorgeous new husband.
"Oh, Kristly? I've missed you!" Anna whispers, pressing her cheek against his rigid pecs lovingly as he dutifully rubs her other, more downward sore cheeks until they felt better after that tripped fall to the hard planks.
"You and Olaf take your parents and Rapunzel with Kai and Gerda in the royal coach to the inn, Elsa." Kristoff calmly says to the platinum blonde ruler as the troupe begins to walk down to the waiting carriage where Gerda was beckoning her girls to join them.
"Since there's not enough room in there for all of us anyway, Anna and I will catch up with you guys at the ship's launch with Svala and Sven later." The levelheaded young man offers quite calmly and logically as he easily lifts Anna in his powerful arms in Sven's direction at the adjacent end of the wharf pathway, where he had already seen to the two reindeer feeding and watering.
"How much later?" Elsa asks softly, as not to be heard by Kai, or Papa for that matter, when the quartet nears the carriage. The sharp young woman saw that certain glint in Kristoff's eye as her little sister swooned against her virile new husband's warmth.
GULP
"Tomorrow morning?" A gulping, hopeful Kristoff was still sweet enough to blush under big sister Elsa's inquiring, penetrating gaze.
"Tomorrow, at daybreak. Just be sure you're early, before the Feia sails, Kristoff. I don't want to have to do much explaining should Papa awaken asking questions of Anna's whereabouts. Take good care of my sister." Elsa lays the ground rules to her brother-in-law with a haughty teasing smirk at the pair of young lovers on perhaps their last chance for the freedom of honeymoon bliss before the long trip heading home under a certain parent's frosty watchful eye.
"You heard the lady, Sven." With a broad smile across his face, Kristoff elbows his best friend as the reindeer saunters close for Kristoff to load blissful Anna onto the Rangifer's sturdy back, her olive green print dress blowing of the sea breeze as he swings her body around.
{"I'll do my best, Elsa. But these two are hopelessly incorrigible."} Sven projects his humored thoughts, knowing full well that Kristoff – and maybe a coy eyed Svala, who wondered what mischief lay ahead from the way Kristoff and Sven exchanged looks – was the only other one able to hear his words.
Elsa merely gets a 'HOMN! HOMN! HOMN!" coupled with an enthusiastic nod and accusatory big brown eyes upon the tall Ice Harvester and his piquant new bride.
"Come on, Sven, Svala. We have a few hours before being shipboard again." Slinging his dark cape over his shoulder, Kristoff salutes to Elsa as he mounts his reindeer and rides onto the Lofoten beachfront in between the craggly rocks.
His madly in love little wife was clutched to his back with her closed-eyed smiling face pressed to it in between the folds of his noble gold trimmed cape. Anna's arms greedily wrap to tightly slither around Kristoff's impressive bare waist.
Although she was still worried about her ailing, yet stable, parent, Anna had learned long ago to compartmentalize any negative emotions and override them with joyous happy ones, even during the loneliest times of her youth.
"Kristly? Where are we going?" Not really caring, but wanting to hear his voice, Anna murmurs deliriously in love with her brawny hero.
"I'll take you wherever you want to go until daybreak, Baby." Smiling, Kristoff whispers behind his shoulder in a husky voice to his beautiful girl as Sven rounds along the shoreline.
"Come away, come away, my love. And I'll carry you over the sea. Come away, come away, my love. And I'll make you as happy as me… You are young. You are beautiful! And I want you to be free… Come away, come away with me… "Kristoff begins to sing in his tender mellow voice to his pretty young bride as Sven kicks up the sand of the beach.
Kristoff's sure grip holds to his reindeer buddy's soft fur neck-mane as Anna clings to the rock-hard abs of her melodic love. Through all this tumultuous danger and frightening trouble, her Kristoff was always her solid rock, the strength she could always rely on to come running for her even without saying a single word.
The soft wind on her face, the crashing winds of the sea gently rolling over her ears with his steadily breathing warmth beneath her fingertips, Anna opens her brilliant aqua eyes to see the dazzling array of the Northern Lights streak across the dark midnight sky, as if just for them. And her Kristly's serenade made it all so perfect, so romantic, just like Anna always dreamed. She needed to feel his gentle, caring love right now and the intuitive young Wind Whisperer sensed it.
"We have 'til daybreak? Then I hope this night never ends, Mr. Bjorgman." Dreamy Princess Anna whispers rather amorously, her pounding heart racing to let go of all the pensive fear and heart-wrenched worry of the last dozen or so days when the newlyweds had a mission to tackle and couldn't focus on each other at all.
"I love you, Mrs. Bjorgman." Feeling the exact same way, Kristoff responds to her breathy invite of a honeymoon restart by swiveling his pure muscle athletic torso around on Sven's racing back until he and his lovely new bride were face-to-face with one another.
And mouth-to-mouth soon enough, too as they pick up where the honeymoon left off now that everything had settled down and the battle finally was all over.
The Snow Prince and Arendelle Princess' lips lock as, in always perfect Wind Whispered balance, the young lovers embrace their fleeting freedom while Sven races around the breathtaking Lofoten beachfront scarp.
With Kristoff and Anna breathless under the rainbow illumination of the Aurora Borealis' special lights emblazoned across the midnight blue sky, the flying reindeer pair running side by side, exchange a knowing glance.
Spontaneously as one, Sven and Svala take to soar to the aerial heights of Kristoff and Anna's love, carried upon the paths of those amazing shimmered streams of light glistening over the iridescent sea…
"Let's go, Olaf." Watching her sister and brother-in-law take off, reindeer bound towards the still seashore beach beyond the rocky hills west of Lofoten Peninsula, Elsa smiles. She then, as second nature with ease, waves an ice magic hand to salvage her snowman creation's multiple scattered parts to reassemble those squirrelly arms back into him in a snow flurry flash.
"Thanks, Elsa!" Olaf smiles toothily as he quite naturally uses those reattached appendages to grab hold of Elsa's lonely hand, even as the few others on the 2 AM quiet pier respectfully bow their heads to the regal sovereign Queen. Elsa regains her composure again to walk stately towards the carriage where her parents and Kai and Gerda awaited.
"I wonder what's in this interesting parcel. Somebody must've dropped it. I thought we already loaded all the luggage on the carriage roof? That was fun! Except the falling off part. Although my gal back home would think it funny. Eliana thinks everything I do is funny! Especially when I tumble!" Olaf giggles at his own clumsiness and what the snowgirl he left behind in Arendelle would think of his antics. Olaf, in passing, asks of the interesting small packet that he had picked up from the ground where the trio fell down before.
"Olaf! Give me that!" A red-faced and vexed Elsa suddenly scrambles to rudely grab hold of the half open package and shove it beneath her purple jacket.
But it was too late. Olaf had already seen the wrapped contents and surprisingly recognizes it right away.
"The blue silk pajama shirt? Wasn't this the one that you bought for –?"
"Olaf, be quiet." The embarrassed young Queen chastises her tactless snowfriend as she looks around, making sure that no one had seen or heard the exchange.
"Okay." Zipping his ice-sealed lip, literally, Olaf guilelessly blinks and smiles up at her as he reattaches to a flustered Elsa's hand to hold and walk the rest of the way to the carriage in amiable silence.
"Where is Princess Anna?" There, Kai was waiting for his young charges impatiently before giving the order for the driver to proceed to the nearby Vandrerhjem hostel inn in the southernmost, devastated village of Å. Kai looks around Elsa and Olaf loading into the carriage for the- as usual- dawdling orangey head.
"They'll be joining us later at the hostel, Kai. You may go now, driver. Please." An uncomfortable Elsa overrides Kai's questioning stare out the window in search of Anna and her absconded lowly mountain man consort.
"Good for you, Anna." Joining Kai's gaze out the carriage window to see Anna and Kristoff quite intimately close and kissing through the reindeer crossed skyline, Queen Idun congratulates her younger child's ability to take her love and run with it the minute she had the chance.
Which is more than I can say for you, my poor Elsa.
Idun wonders what happened to her older child's prospects of that handsome young hero, who appeared to have left the romantic stage, without even saying a single farewell, fond or otherwise to any of them.
Perhaps you frightened the poor boy off, Agdar. You do have an intimidating icy stare, min alskare, when it comes to young suitors come to court your precious little girls.
Idun looks down to the strong stubborn chin where her attractive spouse peacefully was resting his head on her shoulder.
But perhaps I was amiss in thinking my reluctant Elsa was ready for love…
Suddenly, Idun's serious doubts are all dashed away.
While everyone else in the lurching forward coach was busied with some task or conversation, the keen eyed mother sees her blonde daughter, seated on the other side of the resting, unconscious King, quietly lean towards the window with her face behind her purple jacket lapel.
There, Elsa had buried her nose in the pale blue silken folds of what appeared to be a man's nightshirt, with a sigh full of stifled longing that only a woman who had known true love could understand.
"Psst! Psst! That is the shirt you specially picked out for JustHans in that nice little shop in Salsbrucket, Elsa! JustHans let me try it on when he was changing aboard the Gler. I wanted to know my size and if I looked good in that color like JustHans did. Then I could drop some hints for my girl Eliana back home to get me one, too. Maybe in a chartreuse..or a teal… But definitely not yellow. Ooh! Yellow and snow, no go! I bet Eliana'll get me a silk shirt just like it for Christmas!" Olaf gazes up to Elsa, starry eyed at the thought of his frosty sweetheart bestowing upon him such a sweet gift as Elsa did for her guy.
"I wonder where JustHans is now? I miss him and our little chats already." Olaf's soft inane prattle as he plunks to Elsa's feet on the carriage floor confirmed Idun's suspicions. And all hope on the front of love was not a lost cause for her darling Elsa after all.
For just that forlorn yet dreamy expression on Elsa's face at the mention of her young Danish Prince's name told Idun reams of the love story going on in her quiet daughter's heart.
So if Elsa did not discourage you, and I truly doubt her father could have stunted such a valiant young love that boldly dared to challenge an Ice Queen's cold heart and win it, then what did happen to drive you away, Prince Hans? After all that you did as a hero of our nation… I do wish your dear mother were still alive so I could contact her and ask of your whereabouts. Though we had only met that one time, I instantly felt a kinship with Queen Louise, as if we could open up and speak on any matter, especially concerning a fortuitous budding romance between our children…
Just south of the Norwegian border, beyond the fjords…
"No! Don't, Ruddi! Father won't like it! Please don't! He'll blame me!" A tiny voice sings out from inside an old dark chest, clutching a bottle of paste.
"Shut your mouth, Squirrel! Or we'll throw the whole trunk into the moat! And we'll soon see if you can get out of that, Hans-dini!" The abnormally long-necked twelve-year-old with an alarming shock of wild, spiky blond hair and vague pale eyes spits out in distaste for the smaller boy, causing the bullied child to cringe.
In the feverish mind of that selfsame younger boy, a scene replays from his distant childhood that the 13th in-line Danish Prince would rather have forgotten… some 21 summers' end past ago…
Four and a half-year-old Hans didn't mind the dark. Maybe it was because growing up with 12 older brothers who constantly locked their youngest little brother in any one of the 66 room's hidden trunks and closets and box containers of all sizes and shapes, he was used to it. In fact, curious Hans reveled in uncovering the numerous secret passages inside of Egeskov Castle's ancient stone double walls. Often, his only getaway from his spiteful gang of brothers' torment, was staying hidden inside the recesses of their old cobwebby safety.
The boy, not fondly nicknamed 'Squirrel'- for the tuft of vibrant red brown hair that grew in quite a coiffed natural curl up the young child's forehead – had an uncanny knack for getting in and out of tight places. Not to mention the youngster's affinity for the wild grown nuts and berries of the land beyond the Castle moat in the hedge mazes.
Hans often scavenged there in his favorite beechnut maze for food when the bully boy brothers confiscated his breakfast and lunch and even dinners on evenings their strict father was not present at home.
If the unwelcome child could ever call this cold unfeeling stone castle by that hallowed and pleasant, warm name.
So, Hans had always kept to himself, trying to forget about his brutally unkind brothers, with one of his only escapes into some semblance of happiness—when he would gather all the berries and beechnuts and even some apples from the trees he'd climb to bring to his only pride and joy–a new dun foal in the Ladegården stables who let him be free to roam the glorious outdoors, every now and then.
When he was forced indoors again, 'Squirrel' didn't care about being cramped in tiny, musty old chests and obscured bureaus full of dust that the bullies would toss him into. Although they offered little air, the curious boy found they were so full of interesting old curiosities in books and ancient treasures hidden for forgotten centuries as part of their Egeskov Castle history, Hans was never bored. He looked on it all as a character building game that his clever mind would eventually devise a way out of the cruel entrapment in a sporting challenge for escape. So much so, the others would often ridicule him as a lowly conjurer, a looked-down on boy magician of sorts.
But all their taunting of his small slender build, the name-calling of his quiet self-possessed demeanor and stealing his few toys and books until he found his possessions discarded and torn to shreds in the forest, didn't bother him anymore.
But what the small boy was terrified of was what his terse, callous father would say when he found out that the final page of his important treaty papers he had been working on and crunching the numbers of with Egeskov's many map drafters and account managers for days to finish in time for the pressing Royal meeting this very afternoon –
-Had gone missing from his desk late last night.
And the reason little Prince Hans was absolutely sure his father would blame him for being responsible for the missing document, even though the small child was totally innocent of the crime –
-Was because it had been torn to shreds by those naughty children who did take it to be locked inside the dusty old treasure chest with the tiny boy all night.
Hans had seen the wicked twins closest to his age, twelve-year-old, Ruddi and Rune, actually steal the page from their father's study desk and bandied it about with the other chortling boys as they plotted.
The group of them had snidely waved it in Hans' face, holding it out and hitting him with it until they forced poor Hans to rip it as he was baited to grab it back to rightfully return it to his irate parent's desk.
The young Squirrel had dashed around the castle with the ripped pieces in hand, collecting the bottle of paste in his mad dash around to the library. He fully intended on gluing the important paper back together and replacing it to the desk before his father found out that the naughty twins were messing with it.
But there were so many more impious brothers who soon joined in on having malicious 'fun' at Hans' expense. They were all so cruel to gang up against the poor child as they, en mass, chased their little prey down until they bagged him and dragged him kicking and screaming into an old chest.
The paper ripped from Hans' hand that the group of bad brothers vindictively shredded the rest of the way, rained down on Hans' head as they smashed closed the chest lid and locked it over him, taking the skeleton key, laughing and cackling as they all scampered merrily away.
Well, the moment that they were gone, Hans always tried to look on the bright side of even difficult situations.
At least this chest that his twin torturers, Ruddi and Rune, with the aid and assistance of at least four or five more of the older, bigger boys to dump him in the heavy chest and carry it upstairs, had to be hidden away from the servants on the east side of the unused, closed-up wing of Egeskov Castle's spooky attic.
Because at this location, the rising sun that was coming up would most probably peek into the large keyhole opening with just enough luminosity for this intelligent youngest Westergaard son to be able to read the document. He had, those long hours in the dark, already arranged together, by his fingers' sensitive touch, the ragged paper's edges and had fit the pieces together like the puzzle games he enjoyed playing at.
The steel nib dip pen Hans was so proud of was his one and only 4th birthday present from a visiting British special envoy who had a soft spot for birthdays. The haughty, yet kind-eyed and gentlemanly British representative of the Crown had come to discuss Denmark's economic ties with England in the agricultural sector and free access to the Baltic through the Danish Sound and Straits with the Danish King.
While visiting in Egeskov then, the tall, lanky diplomat on the wrong side of five and thirty, sporting a stub of a pulled back ponytail, took a shine to the adorably curious son of that late departed, warm and caring Scottish Princess. The British envoy who was continually attempting to light his pipe, once admired and tried to woo the stunning Princess in his youth. When Princess Louisa was still a flesh and blood, nymph of beauty in Scotland back home before this cold, cunning Dane conquered her heart with his overt good looks and sly charms.
And if her lonely littlest boy she'd never held in her arms looked like he could delight in this shiny and useful new friend of a pen, the generous man who delighted in caring for little children, would give him at least one parting birthday gift.
So with an ink bottle secured from one of the accountant's desks, the intelligent young lad had taught himself how to read and write when no one else was paying attention to his constant library excursions. He practically lived in the dusty old book warehouse where none of the other boys ever wished to roam. Hans was not missed by even the nannies who had long given up keeping track of the erstwhile clan. As long as he wasn't up to the mischief all of the other rascals were prone to, they let their littlest, only obedient charge to wander where he will.
So, Hans took out that cherished steel nib pen he hid away in his secret inside-inside best pocket from his hateful kleptomaniac brothers. With the trusty pointed metal nib he had become quite adept at, the four and a half year old had carefully sliced out a piece of blank parchment from the page of an old Bible blessedly left in the bottom of the chest he was prisoner of.
Upon it, the clever youth quickly copied every letter and number of the ripped up final page's figures and letters with such precision and diligence, he didn't even have to check his forged numerical equations or important letterings twice.
Mainly because young Hans didn't have the time to.
After he had deliberately copied his father's thick dark handwriting of words and numbers even down to the King's exact signature that the gifted boy forged, the 'Squirrel' had used his multifunctional, precious steel pen nib as a lock pick.
CLICK!
And even though from the inside the tumblers were more difficult to judge, the industrious young child who had not slept a wink all night for fear of what the formidable single parent may say, emerged from the cramped old chest soon thereafter.
After little Hans escaped the trunk, he carefully folded the neatly copied treaty paper that was near perfect to the original as could be, despite the fact that the forger was not yet of schoolhouse or tutoring age.
Without giving a second look to that doll's glassy eyes staring blankly at him from her corner of the attic where it had been for centuries, 'that must remain untouched, or her curse would come to pass.' Or so he was told. This was curly dark-haired doll that his nasty brothers so often taunted him would come down the attic stairs and besiege him one day, as the youngest boy's room was nearest the attic door.
With a shiver, little Hans shook the attic dust from his feet.
The pliable youth squeezed through the opened attic window he had jimmied open with his many-use steel pen bit. Hans then began to fearlessly climb down the Egeskov's three-story, old rounded-stone, monk's brick conical towers as if he were some acrobatic lizard more than a four and a half year-old human child.
Through the rounded arch window, he silently snuck into his father's kingly study and managed to deftly plant the copied out treaty paper on the desk's edge.
Just seconds before King Herbert of the Southern Isles of Denmark first entered the room.
A panicked Hans snuck beneath the large carved desk's deep cavity so swiftly that the wind from his dashing had caused the paper he so slaved over to flutter to the floor nearby. But he didn't dare sneak back out to replace it on the desktop.
Terrified Hans didn't even dare breathe, nor let his vibrant red-head, covered with his upturned shirt, peek out from under the desk where his stern father didn't see the hard breathing child huddled in hushed silence.
The tall and handsome king, with hair graying at the edges of his temple, pensively paced the study before picking up the stack of important treaty papers awaiting his retrieval.
"One, two, three, four – Damnation! Where has that blasted last page gone?!" The ill-tempered King exploded, his fine-looking face which reddened with anger made his sour expression dreadful for Hans to see peeking through a crack in the desk top.
"Lars! Get in here! Stupid boy must have misplaced it!" Calling for one of his elder sons, the egghead one who had drafted the paper in conjunction with the harsh King these past two nights, King Herbert moved towards the desk rear to duck his head under the table in search for the paper. There, the frightened little boy was shrinking back, shaking his horrified head in cowered fear…
"What is wrong, father? Did you call for me? Are you unwell?" The elder teenage boy with dark hair and spectacles named Lars Westergaard, comes in from the Hall library where the studious lad spent most of his time.
Hans, who often shared lamplight with Lars in the library they were practically recluses within, was secretly glad that it was this elder brother whom Father called in.
Nineteen-year-old Lars, of all his brothers, was not as mean-spirited or vindictive as many of his other siblings. But the clinically logical teen lacked any amount of affection at all. Most of his interest was in dispassionate books of higher learning rather than joining the others in their game of tormenting their youngest, unwanted, 'Squirrel' of a littlest brother. The one whom all the others, from an early age, as their bitter father had taught them all, had 'murdered' their dear mother.
Of course, cerebral, well-educated, brainy Lars hardly believed that childbirth for an older woman gone wrong in this unsanitary day and age of medicine hardly warranted the serious accusation of murder to the unwitting offspring. So, he for one, held no animosity for Hans, as, illogically, did the others, stemming from the top.
As Lars walked into his father's study, his quick eyes beneath those spectacles and big ears immediately picked up that someone else was present in the room. But Lars was too detached to care one way or another as he calmly crossed the study to see what was wrong with those well-worked papers the irate King was thrashing about in the air angrily.
"What did you do with that final page, you fool?! I signed it and expressly told you to put my seal on it for me! What did you do? Mix this most important page up with one of those dusty old books your nose is constantly stuck in, boy?!" The bad tempered Danish King was always strict, but for these past four years since his wife – their sainted mother's – calming influence had been taken from him – stolen by that despised child – King Herbert had turned into a bitter, ready to snap, often vexed man, as the veins of his neck were ready to pop.
"Father, please relax. Remember what the doctor said about your blood pressure. It must not be encouraged to rise further." Pushing up his glasses to his nose, Lars had sedately answered. He had a sneaking suspicion that the younger twins, Ruddi and Rune's marmalade hands were involved, once he had encountered the sticky edge of the desk, obviously having a dastardly part in all of this nonsense.
Almost immediately, astute Lars' furrowed brow spotted the missing page that the King was ranting and raving about which had obviously been blown to the floor earlier, most likely due to the downdraft of the slightly opened rear window.
Opened rear window in his study? Father is so stingy he never allows this already drafty castle any further heat escape…
But upon examination of the missing document, Lars quickly noted that this was not the original, but an exact replication of the page he himself wrote up under his father's dictation but yesterday.
"Hmm…" Lars murmurs, marvelling at the interesting set of circumstances that could not be the end result of any of his other brothers' unsteady, unruly, or unwilling hands.
Not Kaleb, nor Anders, nor Ivers, nor Mattias. Not Didrik, nor Peiter nor Tøger nor Berte. And never Franz, Ruddi or Rune could have plausibly accomplished this painstakingly patient task to make such a precise, orderly and neat copy of his own systematic, methodical handwriting.
"Is that the missing document, Lars!?"
Now. there was only one in this troupe of brothers who could have personally accomplished what this teenage genius who strived to achieve academic perfection could do, without so much as a blotch or erasure, in this entire household—
"Umm…Yes… Oh! Oops... Sorry, father. The wind in this drafty old castle, you know." But Lars, whether out of pity or simply wishing to avoid a big drawn-out punishment phase that his harsh father would no doubt inflict concerning this whole kerfuffle, whether warranted or not, chooses to take the high road. The cogent young scholar would spare his littlest brother the assured wrath of one of his father's agonized whippings.
In one deft hand, the bespectacled older teen had already been warming the red wax seal for the King's crest that he had secured in his other palm from the desk where he had left it yesterday. To the paper that he had strategically flung under the desk, Lars quickly, yet cautiously, slaps the King's royal seal to the hot malleable wax on the flat of the floor, all while giving a wide-eyed scared Hans something akin to a conspiring smirk to have outsmarted Father.
"Lars? Lars?! Where have you disappeared to, you sluggish boy?! It is vital I have that paper at the meeting in twenty minutes! All those imperial visitors and Royal ambassadors have already gathered and assembled in the west wing's Hunting Conference Room! If I don't attend soon, producing this promised treaty, the name of Denmark's most prestigious Royal house will be dragged through the —!" The uptight, pompous monarch's high blood pressure was about to shoot straight through the roof as nineteen-year-old Lars and four-year-old Hans together beneath the desk urgently blow on the hot wax until it was cool enough to harden…
"Here you are, father. The missing fifth page of the treaty you signed for our land settlement and border security with our Prussian/Saxon/Thuringian neighbors to the south." Lars slid underneath all the other four pages the fifth. It was almost seamlessly similar to the original, with the fast-dried King's seal and all, save for the slight yellowing of the paper from the century-old Bible from the old chest Hans had substituted.
"Well done. Though it took you long enough, Bookworm, to find what the simple wind had scattered. You would have been quicker had you paid more attention to your fencing instructors and horse riding outdoorsman brothers instead of frittering your life away on those worthless library books of yours." The Danish King with the sharp tongue affords his third son at least a complementary nod amidst his damaging words.
"Very good, Father." Lars had answered civilly in his detached way, unaffected as to his parent's quick to be harsh words.
"How do I look?" The graying at the temples nervous older gentleman straightened his military jacket over his still handsome cut figure as he tried to calm himself to look regal and in charge for when he walked in the room with at least two other Royal monarchs.
"We wouldn't want that oddly eccentric Romanticist King Friedrich of Prussia to go back to the continent spreading false rumors of my ill health. There are all kinds of Gypsy riffraff there in Prussia to beware of, taking advantage of a young man's moment of weakness." King Herbert had said almost self-reflectively, recalling his liaisons with certain dancing enchantress and her exotic eyes, as he gazed into the full length mirror that the tall and handsome, vain man had installed in his study for just such spiffing-up occasions.
"That sentimental old fool even brought his young Swedish Princess wife to show off, rubbing it in my face how I recently lost my dear Louisa. But she's more likely there to hold her obese husband up. His child had been kidnapped practically out from under his nose around the same time of our bereavement. Just a missing daughter, for all their complaining. But it works in our favor now that the push-over Prussian King will fold like putty to anything I put on the table." The King of the Southern Isles assesses, coarsely ruthless.
"It's that young firebrand of a pompous French King just coronated we have to watch out for today. He is presiding over the meeting as a disinterested third party. As if there is anyone in European politics without a vested interest in this treaty deal! Besides, that silly cigar-smoking, ridiculously moustached Frenchman has already stated his entire kingdom could ride on the shoulders of some future non-existent son. Ha! He hasn't even landed a suitable bride yet! And should something happen to that one meager lad, where will his Papere's wealth and kingdom go then?" The dispassionate Dane had both learned and been taught the harshness of this cruel world in his unhappy youth and unfortunate life. So he did little to add much more to it than countless young men, all raised to be just like their cold unfeeling patriarch.
All except the last one, who was about to be blessedly sent away to be raised by the sisters of a charity school convent and be out of the Danish King's way once and for all.
Out of sight, out of mind.
"And as for that other matter were speaking of yesterday, Lars. See to it that your youngest brother will be ready to be shipped off to the Fattigskole convent for his primary education, plus room and board. Then straight off to the Naval Academy Sovaernet when the nuns have had enough of the unwanted whining tearful creature. Parting with the greatest dollars will be worth it if I don't have to see that wretched child's sniveling eyes trembling up at me again. There is nothing worse than a boy who so easily cries. What kind of pathetic man will he become? How could this be a son of mine?" The King of Denmark ran a frustrated hand through his dark brown hair. "Besides, Hans has been a disturbance to your other brothers, causing them to understandably strike out in anger at the boy who took their mother away. He does not belong here in Egeskov." As the King went on a long tirade concerning the boy who had been hiding underneath the desk hearing every word, Lars shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.
"I leave Hans' dispatch to you, Lars, since you seem to be the only one who can stomach the contemptible child." With the symbolized dusting off of his golden epaulette decorated shoulders, the coldhearted calculating King Herbert took his stack of papers and left the study with a resounding bang of the door.
"You heard him, Squirrel. Off to the Fattigskole convent boarding school in the morning for you." Phlegmatic Lars said in his detached, not meaning to be hurtful, way. But the look on young Hans' horrified little face at the thought of being driven out from the only home he he'd ever known, to be placed in the Lutheran Convent of Noble Maidens charity school like a throwaway orphan was pitiable enough to cause even cold Lars to frown.
"But…When can I come back home, Lars? It didn't sound like Father wanted me around at all. Why, Lars? Why does no one ever want me? Did I do something very, very wrong?" Just as his father predicted, Hans, unlike all his other twelve brothers, seemed to own a sensitive heart that caused his lip to tremble and eyes shake with forlorn injured tears of sorrow for not being loved.
Just like mother…
Stolid, philosophical Lars was old enough to remember growing up with the kindhearted vibrantly wild curled, red-haired Scottish woman in his early youth before her fiery spirit had been defeated, deflated and so beaten down by her cruel husband's cold attitude and his insatiable quest for innumerable son after son. So much so, his need to propagate became like a greed, as King Herbert relentlessly strived for so many overwhelming offspring in his ultimate plan for the Danes to conquer every royal house in Europe and beyond by eventual genetic attrition of all other nations not hereditary to the Danish kingdom.
To leave the mark of a proud Westergaard Dane's lust for power on the world at large, even at the cost of his own overtaxed wife's life to give him so many children, even one more too many, so late in life…
"Why can't I ever have a real home? Why can't anyone ever love me?" Four-year-old Hans was unashamed to weep openly as he stands alone in the midst of the room wiping his reddened eyes to match his red hair with the balls of his distressed shaking fists.
"Look, Hans." Lars had heard his smallest brother's plea and it touched him in some small way. Perhaps because Hans looked so much like and reminded him of his mother and the way he knew she would have cared for her littlest child.
"I'm sure Father will permit you to return to Egeskov for the Christmas holidays and Summer break from the Academy when you're older and he has mellowed a bit. But you and I both know that this will never truly be your home, Squirrel. You'll have the name and title and prestige of a Southern Isles Prince to purvey you into this world. But that's as far as Father will go. They all still foolishly blame you for what happened to Mother, especially him. I know you're very young, but you must rationalize that father and all of our other brothers will never welcome you at Egeskov. You'll have to find that wonderful home you dream of so much of elsewhere, Hans." The emotionless scholar came close to compassion as he reaches out a stiff hand to scruff the weeping boy's titian mane of wavy hair that gave Hans the nickname of a red squirrel.
"It's up to you to find that place to call home where someone will love you someday, Squirrel. There're too many forces against you here. I guess there's not been any love in Egeskov for years. Not since Mother left us…" Lars speaks from that small space in his cold logical heart that recalled his loving Mama with fondness.
"But there's a whole bright big world out there, where you can at least try to make a home for yourself." Lars' final words as he leaves the room gives Hans his first ray of hope that there was somewhere else out there that maybe could become that cherished place his tiny heart always longed for. A place where boy could feel like he belonged, a place where love could make it feel like home…
Maybe it is 'love' that makes a home, a home…
And the small boy who had never known love, not even a mother's tender touch once in his lonely unwanted life, was to become an outcast of his own family. But if a small seed held a flower's hope on the roof of a windowbox through the winter months to grow full bloom in the spring, like he once read about in a fairytale story book one of Kaleb's little children accidentally left in the library one day, then maybe his hidden flower would someday bloom into a an exquisite white rose, too. Perhaps his own Snow Queen would come and take him away from all his torturous brothers, cruel father and empty life devoid of promise and affection, and bring him to her gleaming Snow Palace on a hill far away…
"Except ye become as little children, ye shall in not enter into thekingdomofGod."
SLAP!
Hans awakens to feel a quick, rough backhand to his cheek.
"Hey! No walking out on me, Sideburns! I've never had a little brother before and I'm not to let you get away from me so easily, Kid!"
The sky was indeed flowing by at the swift speed of the white mare he and someone holding him onto the horse that he had been riding through the clouds upon.
"Lars…?" The redhead's breath had all but ceased, his pulse practically nonexistent, as his consciousness had sunk to his worst childhood day in memory. That traumatic experience when he overheard his father say all of those harsh, heart-breaking words that shaped the cool, mercenary man Hans became. But still, through it all, that burning desire to be loved still lived in the Danish Prince's innocent heart.
But Eugene's tough love slap makes Hans groggily come to with fluttered open eyes, maybe just in the nick of time.
"Whew, Handsome! Don't you do that to me again! You scared us for a while back there! It's okay! The Kid's still holding on, Job!" Flynn Rider's cantankerous voice booms over the airways over his shoulder to where their Caribbean companion was astride his own flying white horse behind them.
Quiet Job silently nods back, adjusting the sheep on his lap, who baa's in pleased response.
"Forgive me, Storbror. Cough cough. I was…having a hallucination of one of my past youth's unhappy episodes." Hans wasn't usually the kind to open up his innermost thoughts and dreams, but there was something about Eugene Fitzherbert's 'say anything I won't hold it against you'attitude, along with the older man's careless caring mixed with humor that made him easy to talk to.
"Ahh…I figured from the contortions of your handsome mug that you weren't fantasizing of your blonde bombshell again at this juncture." Eugene gives a sigh of relief to his weak, yet still kicking Lillebror, accompanied with a teasing wry smile.
"So…who's this Lars? The big, bad brother? Or is he one of the decent blokes of our insurmountable consortium of fourteen lovely lads of such good-looking – dare I say charming – genetic genealogy?" Eugene prattles off in typical Flynn Rider style, none too modest of his stunning features now linked with Hans' family's flock of freckled faces.
"Though at most times indifferent, Lars probably was the one and only Storbror who wasn't outright cruel or unduly hurtful. So, yes, I would class him in the decent realm." Hans answers fairly, remembering the times, albeit few but important to him, when Lars spoke to him kindly.
"So, old Lars is the 'only' good brother you got, eh?" Eugene asks, his eyes rounded as he fishes for a compliment.
"And you, Storbror…Eugene… In the short time we have been together, we have uncovered a close kinship, where you have been the best of brothers to me. Far better than I deserved…" Wistfully, Hans relates to his stubbly newest Storbror who had shown him more affection in the short two weeks they had been together than all the years he had with the other twelve brothers combined.
"P-shaw! Don't be going all sentimental on me, Sideburns! And no talking in the past tense! You are going to get better! Where's that fighting Scottish streak that I bring out in you?! That's what brothers are all about, I've heard. Arm wrestling, swearing at each other at ball games, swiping one another's food, clothes, women—in no specific order. Just another guy who you can generally hang out with, then give a good two fisted punch every now and then to knock each other back to his senses and laugh it off over some brewskis at the end of the day! " Flynn's idealistic outsider view of brotherly love amuses Hans to surrender to the genuine chuckle that the gregarious thief was purposely intending to evince.
"Ha ha! I knew I'd get a snigger out of ya!" Eugene laughs, though the mood suddenly changes when Hans' dizzy gaze turns downward and decidedly more solemn as the trio's flying horses just happened to cross over Denmark's Southern Isles.
And particularly over the dank, dreary landscape of the southern Funen Isle to the east.
"Perhaps the recognition of approaching Egeskov nearby was indirectly jogging my memory…" Hans speaks in a soft voice at the faraway glimpses of the centuries old, palatial Renaissance Water Castle. The grand castle of his youth was set in the midst of a large drawbridge that kept the austere, imposing grey building in all the depressed black gabled glory separated from the rest of the ostentatiously decorated Crown land.
The vast acreage was dominated by an artistic fuschia flower garden that displayed topiary figures in row upon row of well-maintained hedges that encircled the courtyard in a series of dramatic mazes of much estate landscape note.
Even the august Ladegården, a thatched, half-timbered building that served as the acres of farmland agent's office, out in the far end of the royal house's domain possessions, was impressive.
"Can't say I am not impressed by all I could have been part of, had I not been born on the wrong side of the sheets! Man that's a DAMN LOT of land! Is it ALL ours?!" Eugene dismissively admits his illegitimate beginnings and all the vast richness that small detail denied the orphaned beggar thereof.
"Roughly twenty hectares around the castle perimeter and 1130 hectares of the estate, in total." Is all Hans dejectedly answers, lacking pride or any other emotion in speaking of his expansive birthplace.
"1130 plus 20 equals…1150 hectares…!? Whoa-whoa-whoa! That's almost 3,000 acres of prime Danish real estate! We are rich asses!" Flynn's money-loving mind flashes pure silver Rigsdalers in his bedazzled, greedy thief's eyes until they spin around his fantasized head.
"A-hem!" With a loud grounded cough to reel it all in, Eugene has to pinch himself to come back down to reality.
"Although…it doesn't look like the warmest of homes to grow up in, with that awe-inpiring fortress moat surrounding that massive, foreboding castle complex." Beneath his breath, Eugene's keen eyes discerned the stark coldness that exuded from Egeskov's twin conical towers far down below their aerial view.
"So, Sideburns! There's no place like home! Whoo-whee! Nice digs…" Trying to put on a positive face, Eugene lets out a low whistle at the sprawling twenty hectares of well groomed land that had a humongous, formidable looking Castle upon a moat in the center of it.
"That's not my home. It's my father and brothers' home. Never mine, since the day I was born. I never had a home." Hans answers in a defeated, sullen tone as he looks down on Egeskov from afar, wondering how his multiple fractious argumentative siblings had fared since last he was there.
Though he had not been permitted inside Egeskov proper, nor spoken to much upon his disgraced return from Arendelle, the punished young man had picked up dribs and drabs from the stable workers where he had been sanctioned to toil.
It appeared that most of the other twelve brothers had been vying for bequeathed rule of their dying father's accumulated wealth and business empire, not to mention the vast lands and grand Castle of the house in the elderly gentleman's final declining years.
And as each were trying to outdo the other in the Danish king's sights, they were all glad to have one less contender in their dishonored and disinherited youngest brother.
Oh, how they had enjoyed watching him shovel manure in the back stables as the first enforced wave of punishment the older siblings had worked out in their sickly father's absence for Hans.
I wonder if Father or any of the others would care to see me one more time before I go…
Hans' depressed swirling mind vaguely processes the ponderous thought with a bad taste in his mouth that no one beneath in that bleak, unreceptive castle he was born to would even care if he lived or died. Not even his own flesh and blood Father.
"Wow. I'm sure your folks would probably love a big family reunion with me as guest star, were we not in so much of a hurry to our important destination, for some friendly chitchat with the clan right now." Irreverent Flynn Rider didn't quite grasp the weight of Hans' brotherly situation, quite unaware that all of Hans' brothers - even Lars to a lesser degree – didn't like Sideburns as much as nobody ever liked Eugene.
I guess us good-looking fellas have that prejudiced handicap to continually contend with other jealous alpha males.
"You can count on at least one big brother to stand behind you, thick and thin, no matter what, Lillebror." With a nod to Job to steer his horse eastward, Eugene whispers as he holds onto Hans. The boy had grown faint and dizzy from staring down at the passing Danish Southern Isles' landscape until the mortally injured Danish Prince comes to pass out again against his big brother's welcoming chest.
Flynn Rider did get the feeling from all the redheaded Prince told him before, that Hans wouldn't be so eagerly accepted back with a warm welcome home hug.
"Hang in there, Kid." Eugene notices the mortally wounded man's lackluster head slumping down against him a bit. And there, dangling over Hans' handsome head on his chest was that wooden Crucifix cross that Eugene had hung over his aching heart. The roughly hewn cross Eugene had promised Job to finish for him when the chips were down before.
He glances over to Job with a small smirk as he realized that maybe his dark Caribbean friend's belief in the Almighty was rubbing off on the irreverent former criminal, too, on Eugene's own never-paid-much-attention-to path to Redemption.
Hey, Lord. I seem to remember that you listened to a humble thief's prayer once before when you hung on that there 'ole Cross, didn't you? Well, here mine is: Give my Lillebror a chance to love and be loved once in his sorry life. I can attest that he's a good kid now. I don't know all the ins and outs of what wrongs he keeps confessing that he did before that were so grievous. But which of us poor sinners aren't guilty of something less than perfect in Your eyes? Isn't that why You had to send Your Son - to suffer and die for us sinful beggars to take away the sins of the whole damn world?
(Sorry for the swearing. I wasn't raised in a God-fearing castle.)Eugene frowns at the memory of harsh orphanage life.
But I, for one, am grateful for Your munificence, that none of us deserved but got anyway, Big Guy. Just shine a little extra of that blood-atoning, redeeming Light on my kid brother. He could use a Savior about now.
I've heard there's power in this here rugged Cross to make the crippled walk, blind men see, and the dying spring back to life. Guess that about covers us, Lord.
As the wind flies through his shaggy dark brown hair aloft the flying white mare, Eugene silently speaks the honest prayer on his heart. He pets back the sweatdrops formed on Hans' forehead creased with pain, both physical and mental for one so young, with an anxious expression.
And while You're at it – 'cause I'm pretty sure You are ace at multi-tasking, God, from all I've gleaned over these years of skipping church services and being lectured that You were watching me slack off- please keep an eye out for my Brownie girl and her bun in the oven while I'm away, too. Back to his flippant self, Flynn smirks with a thought for his loving wife's safety and welfare in his absence.
Taking this opportunity of Hans self-sedation, Eugene reaches into Hans' unbuttoned open shirt to reapply the healing salve tincture that Kristoff's Pops had mixed up for his wounded kid brother to put on, as he changes the not so bloody bandage at his ribcage in order to do so.
"After we get you all better, Sideburns, I am gonna bring you home to live with me in mine. My beauteous bride and her stupendous Godly family took me into Corona without a smidgen of royal credentials. They're good folk. You'll meet 'em soon. Old Fritz and Arianna would love to have you stay with us for as long as you want, I have no doubt. And knowing my matchmaking Liebling Rapunzel, I'm sure you'll be seeing a certain icy blonde beauty soon enough… And the home of her icy blue eyes again…"
Eugene speaks with a blessed assurance in his heart to the unconscious younger man as they leave the skies of Denmark and crossover into the more familiar, welcoming landfall of Flynn's embraced Prussian homeland…
min spadbarns –my little one in Swedish
min alskare – my love in Swedish
Søværnet – Royal Danish Navy
Funen – pronounced 'Fyn', the Danish island where Egeskov Castle is located, was also the birthplace of 'Snow Queen' writer Hans Christian Andersen.
Fattigskole – The charity school wing of the 18th century founded Lutheran Convent of Noble Maidens in Odense, Funen, where Odense native Hans Christian Anderson was educated.
- In 1716 Sister Karen Brahe founded a convent for unmarried women of Danish nobility in Odense, Funen. The convent functioned as such until 1972. The main wing was built at the beginning of the 16th century as part of a bishop's palace, with several wings by the river and a high arched cellar and big windows facing the courtyard. The interior in the building is remarkably well preserved. On the walls there are layers on layers of decorations such as panels, wall paper and wall paintings. The house has been completely renovated by Realdania Byg, known for their many successful renovations of historic buildings, and today it houses the H.C. Andersen Secretariat from Southern Denmark University Odense.
On the charity school wing of the Lutheran convent (Fattigskole), a memorial tablet tells us that it was here that the town's famous poet, Hans Christian Andersen, attended school there. The building dates back to 1570 and was built in a typical renaissance style with storey overhangs in part of a four wing complex.
Easter greetings, Frozen friends!
Our incorrigible, yet so good-hearted rogue Flynn Rider gets us into this most blessed Easter weekend's true meaning in his inimitable way with his honest prayer! I thought it was beautiful how At the Cross, At the Cross, he finally saw the light! God bless his rascally soul! ^_^
Now, the scene with Kristanna racing along the beach was inspired by my talented big sister's gorgeous illustration! You must see how beautifully she drew in her art of rugged muscly shirtless Kristoff, adoring Anna hugging him lovingly, and Sven merrily bounding along Lofoten beachfront! (Sven's neck fur is simply breathtaking to behold! I have no idea how Setsuna did it! Wow! I fell in love with the picture at first sight! And it fit in perfectly with this part of my envisioned story at last!)
What also fit in hand in glove was my recent discovery (thanks to my dear Sister in Christ friend! You rock, RibbonsandChocolate-chan!) of Jonathan Groff singing for "1001 Nights: A Love Story about Loving Stories" theater muppet show this stunning song 'Come Away'! So I incorporated that in this chapter too! Go listen to the wonderfully sung, mellow love song on YouTube, Frozen friends! And Setsuna's gorgeous art of Kristanna can be viewed by searching Kristanna on her DeviantArt 'SetsunaKou ' or Tumblr 'QueenElsaWestergaard' blog.
And a special nod to my good friend SecondAbbreviatedJP for inspiring Rapunzel to be Eugene's beautiful 'Brownie' now too! So cute I had to borrow the no longer 'Blondie' gal's more spot-on moniker! Thanks JP-sama!
So, to hop into the Easter celebration properly, there are a dozen Easter eggs hidden in this special chapter! How many did you find? ^0*
Give up? Here they are:
- King Friedrich (Fritz for short ^_^) & Queen Arianna (I had to alter Rapunzel's real parents' names, due to the release of the 'Tangled: Before Ever After' TV show due out in 2017) were attending King Herbert's important meeting.
- Hans' brother bully boy, Ruddi, one of twins, described in the latter half of the chapter with a wild shock of blond hair and vague eyes, looks just like his Scottish ancestor Dingwall from 'Brave' and Hans' long-deceased Mother was the spitting image of Merida from 'Brave' with the 'vibrantly wild curled, red-haired Scottish beauty with fiery spirit'. Hmmmm…
- Egeskov Castle & its beech mazes, topiary figures, fuschia garden labyrinth is really located in the Southern Isles of Denmark, right where the map in Frozen Fever pointed.
- And, who was that unnamed, gentlemanly 'special British envoy' who kept lighting his pipe and generously gave Hans his steel nib pen as a birthday present because he was sweet on his mother? Sounds like old Grimsby from 'The Little Mermaid' in his heady youthful days to me!
- The new foal in the Ladegården stables was Hans' horse Sitron, featured in the Frozen movie.
- There is a real-life spooky legend of the cursed doll in the Egeskov Castle attic that if moved, ghastly things have been purported to befall the occupants.
- King Herbert, as per the semi-secret taboo custom of the discreet day, has an illegitimate son with the surname 'Fitzherbert' (guess who?)
- The gypsy 'dancing enchantress with exotic eyes' mistress who left Hans' father with a lasting memory (and illegitimate son) was based on Esmeralda from 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame'.
- Fattigskole, the charity school wing of the Lutheran convent Hans was sent to as a boy, actually has a memorial tablet that tells us it was there that the town's famous poet, Hans Christian Andersen, attended school.
- It was Hans Christian Anderson's 'The Snow Queen'' book little Hans found in the library.
- Olaf's new 'girlfriend' from 'Frozen''s Christmas special? was mentioned, as purported by Josh Gad (Olaf's Voice actor).
- Kristoff's 'Come Away' song for his Anna, as performed by mellow voiced Jonathan Groff, was featured in the story to accompany SetsunaKou's stunning artwork.
- Extra marshmallow peeps to those who figure out and identify who that young cigar smoking firebrand of a French King who so staked his entire kingdom on the pride and joy of his unborn son!
There! A Baker's Dozen of Hidden Easter Eggs! ^0^
(Actually Lucky#13, as Prince Hans in his march of brothers, and Elsa in Disney princess line, both are!)
Have fun on this Frozen Easter Egg Hunt, dear friends!
Tell me what you think of our Easterrific extravaganza! ^_^
And thanks for reading this half flashback/ half flashforward episode of Frozen Again!
Please have a Happy and Blessed Resurrection Day Easter, giving thanks and praise with your families and friends in sharing the perfect, sacrificial Love of our dear Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!
God bless you! Jesus loves you!
HarukaKou
Hello, Frozen friends!
After this adventurous book's journey, to continue the romantic saga of "Frozen Again: Faith, Hope and Love", please read on in the romance drama sequel "Frozen Again: But the Greatest if These of Love", and now it's triquel : 'Frozen Again: Love Never Ends'.
NOW the sequel has a sequel, published on this latest Easter day again! 'Frozen Again: Love Never Ends' has begun!: The newest story in Helsa's love affair has just been launched on Easter day 2017 to see the continuation of this Book 2 with Book 3! Please follow and read and review the third book in my Frozen Again trilogy's conclusion, and join in the romance, adventure and fun after you're finished with this Book 2! And always, thanks for your avid support and readership, my Frozen friends! :)
I am currently working on the next exciting chapter of Book 3 "Frozen Again: Love Never Ends", to be published next week. It will pick up right where the second book "But the Greatest if These of Love" left off.
The saga of a forgiving love's discovery continues! Helsa, Kristanna, Eupunzel and Agdun's romance stories will keep going for much, much more drama, fun and adventures in love to come in the second and third books in this Frozen Again series!
Thank you all for your generous kindness and unfailing support these past three years of scripting my first two 'Frozen' sequel novels! Your reviews and messages have always been so uplifting and inspired me to write more all this blessed time together!
HarukaKou)
P.S. Be sure to follow all 3 books to get the latest chapter update! :) And Olaf and Eliana love reviews!