Ah, I'm so sorry guys for the long hiatus! I had a family trip and we went to a lake that had no wi-fi... I'll update the other chapters asap. Thanks for the support, your reviews and favorites! So, all things said, let's move to the story...


Chapter Two: Aren't you alone here?

This was going to be one of those days, Olaf knew it. But goddamn, they weren't prepared at all. Even though he had searched everywhere for bottles of rum, asking carefully each crew member on board and offering goods in exchange, no one had liquor. He was glad, Elsa apart, because they had followed the rule of no alcohol.

Shivering a little, the boy hid a box of chocolates under his shrivelled vest, walking towards the Captain's chambers. Maybe this time Marcello would let him pass.

Fixing his white hair to the side, he sprinted across the corridors of the huge ship, slipping once or twice, but never falling. After all, he had done the same path every day, many years ago. The young boy slid his hand between the cracks of the frost that covered the Ice Queen's walls as he ran, tracing the familiar snowflake patterns with his fingers. The dim bluish light that the hanging lanterns emanated seemed to reflect on the icy fractals, it had this glowing effect that he felt inside his dreams of blizzards and flurries. The new azure rug (frozen by the moment) was definitely something fun that he had to check later.

For someone who spent most of his time in the upper part of the ship, the beautifulness of the chambers could be easily forgotten.

After a while running and many times stopping to admire the paintings that adorned the lonely corridors, he finally reached his goal, panting and breathless.

"I really need to get in shape" he remembered himself softly, trying to recompose by walking in circles.

"Ahoy. Whaddaya want, lad?"

Olaf let out a yelp and jumped back, startled by the rough voice that welcomed him. Sitting in a chair in front of the bedroom doors was Marcello. Pointing his blue sword at him. Great.

"Oh, hello, Marce!" he greeted, performing a curtsy and looking over his shoulder. He had no one near. Okay, okay, no problem. "Aren't you alone here all by yourself?"

The young pirate waited for a response that never came. Sweating, he tried to continue normally, voice trembling.

"Is it a little cold here or it's just us?" he tried to joke and laughed a little, but Marcello was as serious as ever. "Get it? Because we're fro... n-never mind... Well, I brought some chocolates for the Captain..."

His breathe catch on his throat when the older pirate stood up. He was huge, the tallest man in the crew. Maybe being short was not so good after all, thought Olaf, scared. Marcello snatched the chocolate box in his hands and smelled it, suspicious. After examining the gift, he nodded.

"'kay. Now go away."

Olaf blinked once. Twice.

"W-what? I..." his voice cracked when the buff man drawed his sword.

"T' Capn' wants t' be alone, an' she'll be."

"But I thought that... Okay, you know, I have other box in my trunk, and if you let me pass I could..." he began, wiggling his eyebrows, but Marcello growled harshly "Okay, okay, there's no need to get mad. At least do you know if she's okay?" he dropped with worry the corners of his mouth.

Silence filled the corridor, and Marcello inhaled sharply through his nose, annoyed by the constant tapping that Olaf did with his feet.

Every time they chose a destination the Captain would do that, shut herself up in her chambers and wait in absolute isolation until they got to wherever they wanted to go. The first months in the ship were okay for Olaf, spending his meals with the Captain, moments where he chatted with the young woman about so many things that it was hard to remember now. The only thing that remained in his mind (lightly, though), was a vague back story that she shared with her crew. She was some kind of royal in a faraway land, and had to run away because of reasons, the end. No one knew why she owned the sublime battleship, or why the pirates had chosen her as their ruler.

Now, after some rather strong verbal fights with her crewmates, the Captain was hardly ever seen outside. Marcello, the Quartermaster, was left in representation of Elsa, and he controlled the crew by himself, sometimes with Olaf's help, the bosun.

There was that time where Olaf had been voted to be the guard outside the door, and the nights that he stayed there, he had heard horrible things. The young woman would cry herself to sleep, without drinking anything but rum, loads of rum; as much as she needed to suppress the raging screams in her head, acussating the poor girl for the wreck that her ship would always leave behind, every death that it caused and would cause in the future, every harbour that her powers froze.

In that very moment, when they were heading to Frost Valley for an important meeting with other relevant pirate Captains, their leader prohibited anyone near the entrance of her chambers. Two weeks of trip had already passed and the cooks were worried sick for her, saying that the girl ate her meals just once or twice.

"She be our Capn', o' course she be 'kay." came the late reply from the older pirate, that looked away when the kid tried to make visual contact.

Olaf sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere with Marcello, that was for sure. And of course, he wasn't physically capable of pushing the tremendous guy to the side and check Elsa by himself. But he needed to do something, right? Elsa always helped him back at his first days by the sea, and if she was the one in need of help now, he was going to be there.

With something that felt like a plan, he leaned against the cold wall behind him, and sat on the floor.

"Didn't ye hear me, lad?" growled the guard, raising a thick, white eyebrow.

"I'll wait here. I'm sure she'll come outside someday... right?" the boy looked up to Marcello, but he didn't answer either. A smile appeared in Olaf's face as he remembered something. "After all, today we'll arrive to Frost Valley for the meeting with Weasel..."

"Lad, ye better-"

"... and the Captain herself said that I'll pick her clothes. Maybe when we get there we'll have to go shopping! We can buy some blue, red, or purple coats for her, something cute like that, right? Oh, and some new jewellery too!

Marcello could only roll his eyes and sit on his chair as Olaf rambled.

"Why do we have so much money, anyway? We can buy a whole new ship and decorate it as much as we want! I'd be the decorator of course, because please, I'm the only one on board with some sense of fashion. I mean, look at y..."

Probably if he had finished the sentence, things would've been bad for him, but a heartbreaking scream coming from the chambers took both of their breaths away, saving the kid from a punch in the face.

A loud cry followed, and seconds after they heard glass breaking.

Was that the Captain? What in earth had gotten to her?

Olaf recovered faster than Marcello and tried to enter the room, running to help her, but was quickly contained by the older pirate.

"Go away I said, lad!"

And Olaf was thrown nearly to the other side of the corridor, landing painfully on his wrist. At first he felt something softly burning inside, but no, seconds later it really, really hurt. His eyes even watered a little. When the boy checked his arm, he realized that it wasn't supposed to bend like that.

Marcello gulped.

"Go t'..." the man began, but his voice cracked when another scream tingled in the air, ragged with grief. The tall man sighed, clearly troubled with his intentions. "Go t' do yer work smartly, before Elsa blows yer sorry ass off board."

"We have to help her!" he cried, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. "Didn't you hear that? Maybe she's ill o-or something!"

"She's not."

"If you weren't there covering the door, I'd have sworn that someone is killing her right now!" he continued, with a mute sob.

"She be okay, I said. Now leave, she'll heal yer arm later."

"A-And what if she's hurting herself? Maybe she has problems with-"

"Some things are better fought alone, lad!" Marcello barked, furious. "Now go snatch something from th' kitchen, and take care of yer wrist!"

The teen got up slowly. Now the screaming had stopped, but as he got closer to the doors, he heard sobs and hiccups coming from inside.

"I'll give th' chocolates t' the Capn', if ye want it that-"

"Avast!" they heard the voice of some sailor coming down the stairs that led to the deck. "Ship on sight!"

Marcello jumped in his chair, but did nothing else. He had to stay there.

"Ship... what?" Olaf took two seconds to process the words and quickly ran away, forgetting for a moment about his Captain and his twisted arm.

Once he got outside he had to cover his eyes, the swirling snow hitting his face like shards of ice. After his first year living in the ship (that could be easily compared to live inside an iceberg), he had grown immune to the cold, and his skin had turned almost as white as his hair, the same phenomenon occurring with all his crewmates. Some kind of funky magic or something weird like that, they didn't know, but it sure was useful for a group of people living inside a frozen ship.

After walking half blind for a while across the deck, he found the sailing master. The young man was looking with his spyglass.

"Ye see the lil' ship thar, Olaf?" the man asked, laughing, with a thick, strong accent.

It was the first ship that crossed paths with them in years. It had to be a really strong one, thought the kid, as just a few embarkations resisted the Ice Queen's storm. Sadly, he couldn't see that far.

"I can't! How does it look? You see people on board?"

"'s a beauty, but's not movin'..." the man grabbed his hat when it floated away with a blast of wind. "Rich land lubbers be hidin' in the cabins, aye, bet my grog."

"Anything else?" the kid bounced in his spot, starting to feel nervous. Maybe they were in problems, and needed help.
"Scurvy dogs!" the pirate laughed when the storm suddenly stopped, snowflakes falling to the ground and sea instantly, like someone had ordered them to. Only once or twice they had seen that.

"Damned flowers be everywhere!" someone shouted by the cabins.

Olaf could believe neither that the blizzard had stopped nor that the ship was in perfect state, floating silently just a few meters away from them. The pain in his wrist was now long forgotten.

If the ship hadn't stopped moving, they would have probably crashed with the beautiful little barquentine.

"Which country has that flag?" Olaf furrowed his eyebrows, and before the sailing master could answer, he remembered. "Arandelle, right?"

"Aye, but where's th' crew?"

They heard footsteps coming behind them.

"There's no one inside, of course. This damned blizzard kills anyone near, and the poor people that travelled in that barquentine are probably by the depths of the sea in this moment." a blonde man stood beside them, caressing his moustache.

"Ye shut yer mouth, bilge rat." grunted a muscular pirate, spitting over the shoe of the other one carelessly. "Why don't ye go check inside? The plank's over thar."

"Do it for the crew, surgeon, aye?"

Every pirate on board clapped, somehow they had all reunited in the deck. Some of them started whistling and throwing things at him, so the tall man took a long breath and walked towards the said plank, and in one quick movement, he got to the end of it. Just one jump and he would land in the barquentine.

"Land in sight, fellas, we've arrived to Frost Valley! We're home!"

The poor man stumbled in his feet and fell, luckily inside the small ship. Olaf let out a gasp. He wanted to see how the surgeon would do in this situation. Before anything could happen, Marcello stormed out of the chambers.

"Summers, Poppy, Olson and Patch will check that garbage, steal anything with value they have! I want two navigators there, too! Everyone else, go back to yer works! That ship will be anchored in the castle harbour by midnight, did ye hear, ye bilge rats?"

And with those simple words, the whole crew went back to their chores. Olaf stayed in his place though, staring marvelled at the barquentine.

After a while doubting, Marcello finally touched his shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

"Elsa said thanks. She'll be waiting for us, too."

"Waiting for us?" Olaf repeated, even though he knew Marce hated that, but it was absolutely needed. This demanded further confirmation.

"Ain't we gonna go shopping, lad?" the buff pirate looked away when Olaf smiled at him. "You'll have t' hurry, though. She said anything will be okay."

"Anything will be okay? That sounds like she's hopeless!" Olaf raised his nearly nonexistent eyebrows, excited. "We'll buy the best clothing she'll ever dream to have, Marce, even if it means cutting my wrist in half!"

"Whatever." Marcello chuckled, petting his head. "Just don't spend all our booty."