To King Haytham Westergaard, the first of his name, Lord of the Southern Isles and all of its peoples and provinces.

Herein lies the official account of Prince Nicholas Westergaard, the first of his name, diplomatic representative to the nation of Arendelle.

Nicholas tapped the point of his quill against the writing desk, chewing his lip. What were his first words going to be? How was he going to soften the blow?

Your Highness,

I understand you may already have heard accounts of recent events here in Arendelle. I am dispatching my own personal report to you to set the record straight.

The prince perched his forehead in his hand, rubbing the tips of his fingers back and forth. He always knew the right words to say. He prided himself on that. However, he'd never had to write to family about a recent stint as a jailbird.

Also, his family just happened to be royalty….so there's that.

I fear our diplomatic mission could be transforming into a formal investigation. An attempt was made on Queen Elsa's life by members of her own people. Myself and members of her administration have very minimal details at the moment but I will be working with them to ascertain the truth.

Tongue poking the inside of his cheek, Nicholas tapped the quill again before continuing his furious scribbling.

Together, I have every belief we will discover the source of this aggression and bring it to justice. With tact and enough luck, our efforts will forge a brand new pact of trust between our nations.

The prince picked up the sheet of parchment and read the whole thing again. Then once more. It appeared fitting but was missing something. He looked to the side at the sword Pete had given him before he left the Southern Isles. He was glad he'd gotten that back from the guards after they released him and his friends.

That's what was missing. He wondered how Haytham was doing. Really doing. Beyond the formal constraints of this correspondence. He wondered how Pete and the rest of his brothers were doing.

What was Alayna doing?

Nicholas shook his head, letting out another sigh. No more thoughts about that. That was left behind on the Southern Isles docks for a reason.

Or maybe he was just telling himself he left that behind. He bit his lip and buried those thoughts under the sound of the scratching of parchment.

Please give my best to Peter and Roderick and the others. I hope you're doing well, brother. I promise you that I will see this to the end. I hope this matter won't trouble you too much.

With Honor, Prince Nicholas Westergaard.

Not bad for a morning routine. With a satisfied smile, he rolled the letter up, tied it and reached for his previously untouched metal cup, lifting it to his lips

His mouth burned and he spit out its contents in a furious spray.

"Pod!" He called up to the deck from his cabin. "I said coffee! Not rum!"

Elsa twisted her body, taking a lunging step forward with her right foot and raising her open right palm to the morning sun.

Part the horse's mane.

Eyes closed, breathing deeply, she rotated her right hand and slowly chopped it down while raising up her left palm.

The white crane spreads its wings.

She stepped forward with her left foot and raised both hands in front of her.

Playing the lute.

She quickly pulled her left arm back as if swiping its imaginary strings and raised her right foot again, smoothly spinning once and coming to a solid stance, her right palm hovering over her upturned left palm held down at her stomach.

Hold the ball. Channel your energy.

"Good form," General Dewhurst told her. "Now concentrate."

Her brow knitted ever so slightly. She tried to keep her mind focused, feeling her power buzzing to life in her hands. It was begging to be released but she held it back. Her palms started to shake. Her eyes closed tighter. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Still, she held.

"Good, good." The general urged. "Don't let it consume you. Make it work for you. Remember that you are always in control."

Elsa nodded curtly as the sphere of white frozen energy forming between her palms grew more focused and defined. It began to take form as a white sphere of light, whirring and whooshing with energy. Soon it showed itself as a swirling globe of ice and snow pulsating and spinning in her hand.

Now Elsa could feel the buzzing spreading to her teeth. Her hands were shaking even harder. She was determined to hold it even longer than last time. She had to get better. She had to keep improving. It was the only way to conquer her fear and her uncertainty.

Every muscle in her body turned taut as the ball spun faster and faster. Sweat streaked down her cheeks and the sides of her neck. She gritted her teeth as her shoulders shook. Soon, even her knees were quaking.

She needed to release it. She had to! It was threatening to explode at any moment!

"Now!" Dewhurst shouted.

"Aggghh!"

With an exasperated cry, she threw both her palms forward and the ball of ice magic shot out like a cannon blast. It soared through the air right for the target.

It exploded on contact, breaking apart into thousands of icy shards and a giant splash of snow. The target was utterly destroyed. In its place were glinting white ice stalagmites jutting out from the ground.

"I'd hate to be on the business end of that!" Dewhurst said with a chuckle, pouring water into a cup. "Well done, Your Highness."

"Thank you, General," Elsa said breathlessly.

General Harrison Dewhurst handed her the cup and a towel, which she gratefully accepted. She pulled at the edges of her white Gi, letting the cool morning air waft down her body, Her golden ponytail gleamed in the sunlight, its tip dampened by the sweat on the back of her neck. She guzzled the water down and wiped her mouth, rubbing her face off with the towel.

"That was your best concentrated burst yet. You showed real concentration, real improvement," the older man complimented. "What brought about this extra punch this morning?"

Elsa laid the towel on the stone side of the castle rampart where she and the general had been training together for weeks.

"Your instruction, of course," she said.

"Ah, I'm sure there's more to it than that. Nice try softening me up, though."

Elsa smiled at the man and he smiled back, which made his bushy white mustache lift up toward his dimples. For most of her life, he had been the closest things to a father she'd had. He had insisted to help train her ever since her powers were outed over the incident with Hans.

I can help you channel your energy. There are martial techniques you can learn, techniques that can conquer your fear and keep you in control. Always.

It had started with breathing techniques, then muscle control, aerobics and even deep stretching. Now, they had moved on to the melding of her mind and her body by combining everything she had learned with her offensive ice magic.

"You weren't perhaps thinking about our newest guest, were you?"

Elsa nearly spit out her next swig of water. Their latest guest?

He couldn't mean….

"Er, what?" she stammered. "I, uh, what do you mean?"

"You weren't picturing his face on that target?" Dewhurst jutted his thumb behind him to the combusted debris.

The queen's eyes quickly darted form the target back to the general.

"Um….of course not! Why…why would I?"

"Because there was anger in that attack, Your Highness. I know he must be on your mind," the old general placed his hands on the hips of his own white Gi, smiling wryly. "You're no expert at controlling your emotions yet."

Elsa turned away from the general, picking the towel back up and wiping her face again, even if just for an excuse to spare herself from his witty gaze. Of course she was thinking about him….but for perfectly valid reasons! She didn't trust him. She had no idea what was going through his mind or what he could possibly be plotting against her and Anna, against Arendelle. Every day he spent here was one more day of stress for her.

"There's nothing unusual about my concern for my kingdom," she simply said.

"Oh, quite right. Quite right."

General Dewhurst smiled at her back, looking up into the bright morning sky with a thoughtful smile.

"We're quite lucky to have him, though."

Elsa stopped wiping her face.

"Lucky?" she asked. "How do you figure that?"

"If he was like any of the other pompous princes you've dealt with, he would not have taken his temporary imprisonment so selflessly."

Elsa thought back to seeing him standing in her throne room. The way he stood bound in chains for a crime they now knew he didn't commit. The way he looked up at her and practically begged for the amnesty of his friends. The general was right in one regard. Elsa had been forced to entertain too many princes who were so stuck up their own asses. Even in her own fledgling time as queen, she could sniff out their shit from a mile away.

But so far, Prince Nicholas was showing himself to be the exact opposite. It was not only refreshing….but admirable.

Again, that's only if he was truly genuine. That was yet to be seen.

"So you believe his story." she simply said.

"As do you, my Queen," Dewhurst countered. "You would not have let him go otherwise."

Damn it.

Elsa knew he had her there. She be damned before she let him know that, though. Admitting he was right meant….well, it meant….

"Hans appeared to be selfless too." she said, turning to her general. "He appeared to be our nation's rock in the midst of the worst winter storm it had ever seen….my winter storm. Who knows if his older brother is just trying to soften me up too before he strikes."

Dewhurst nodded toward her. "Then he is truly a fool, Your Highness, if he thinks he could harbor such plans against you amongst all of us."

"Hans nearly accomplished his goal single-handedly," Elsa mentioned darkly.

The general sighed, knowing her point was all too accurate. That had been a difficult time for him. Before Elsa had assumed her throne, he and Councilor Lyons had been the only conceivable diplomatic regents Arendelle had. It happened that they were abroad during the entire ordeal between Prince Hans and his royal sovereigns.

"I know, My Queen," he admitted. "And you may not believe me when I say this, but that was a different time. Our people didn't know you then like they know you now. They've learned to understand you, to embrace you! There's nothing they wouldn't do for you now. I see it in the streets every day."

But if what Prince Nicholas said was true, Elsa thought, then she clearly wasn't being embraced like the general thought.

"I am willing to see if the prince is as genuine as he claims to be," she corrected her general, turning to him. "If he is….that makes for an entirely different problem for us."

Dewhurst's eyes turned to the ground. He nodded slowly.

"I know that as well, Elsa," he said, speaking to her not as his queen but as his surrogate daughter. "I believe the prince's words, but we will investigate this matter to every breadth and depth. You have my promise on that."

Elsa smiled warmly at her general.

"Thank you….I…"

The blonde's head suddenly began to swim for a minute.

"I….I….whoo…."

"My Queen?"

Elsa stumbled back a step but caught herself on the castle rampart, steadying her body.

"Sorry, I….I'm feeling a little….little light-headed."

The general rushed to her side, taking one of her arms in his larger one, supporting her.

"Come, we should get you to Dr. Imholde. You're overdue for your treatment, after all."

Elsa nodded slowly, letting her general lead her back down into the castle.

Captain Damon Direwind stretched his back up to the bottled tips of his toes, breathing out a loud sigh.

"Ahh! I love the smell of seawater in the afternoon!"

He walked across the deck of the Bloodrider, smiling and nodding and tipping his cap to the passing members of his crew. The sun was high in the sky and the air was crisp, the kind of air that passes through your nostrils and into your chest, seemingly cooling off your body from the inside. It was enough to put a smile on any sea captain's face. Considering how he spend a good part of yesterday in a jail cell, this was a vast, vast improvement.

The sweet sound of Martell plucking his lute only made his mood better! He walked up to his wiry bard, who was leaning up against the ship's mast.

"Ahoy, Martell! How are you this fine afternoon?"

The bard gave his captain a warm smile.

"The salted dog once again has his bowl, captain."

Marvel's eyes slowly swiveled forward.

"….and a show, it would seem."

"Show?"

Damon followed Martell's gaze and brought his hand over his mouth, stifling a snicker. There was his prince, painstakingly pacing back and forth across the port of the ship. His head was down and staring at the floor. His mouth was moving swiftly but silently….or at least it was too quiet to be heard over the scuttlebutt of the ship.

"Huh," Damon commented. "And how long has our prince been like this?"

"M'lord has been keeping his paces since he first rose on deck."

Damon started. "That was hours ago."

"Aye," Martell said with a smile. "It would appear he needs some comforting courage before tonight's dinner, captain."

Damon smiled, blowing a sigh through his nose.

"Indeed. I better go check on him before he jumps into the water."

Damon folded his hands behind his back and walked over to the prince, almost beaming.

"Good afternoon, my prince! Perhaps you should sit down."

"I'm good where I am, Damon, thank you," Nicholas said distractedly. "I'm, ah, I'm planning what to say at dinner tonight."

Damon turned his head back and forth, following his prince's quick gait.

"As long as you remember that the food goes into your mouth, my prince, I think you'll do just fine."

Nicholas stopped where he stood, his face snapping to his captain. Damon held up his hands defensively.

"Kidding, my prince! Kidding!"

Nicholas hung his head, tiredly sitting down on a large wooden crate.

"No, you're….you're right, captain," he admitted. "I'm sorry, I….I guess I'm more nervous that I thought."

"No, my prince! Nervous? I couldn't tell."

Nicholas looked up, glaring.

"Your wit is relentless, Captain Direwind."

"As constant as the ocean's tide," Damon said, chuckling.

The captain sat down on the crate next to his prince. He couldn't help but joke. Despite what Southern Isles protocol called for, the strange kinship he felt with his prince inspired jokes. Perhaps it was the bond that only comes from two people sharing neighboring jail cells. Perhaps it was that the prince was unlike anything Damon had expected. He wasn't the inaccessible lordly being that Damon had been raised to expect. He was like any other man.

And right now, he was a man who needed a hand.

"My prince, don't worry," he said. "You talked us out of those chains, remember? Things can only go up from here."

Damon clapped his prince on the back.

"Just keep on using that charm of yours and everything will be smoothed over in a pinch!"

Nicholas put his face in his hands and rubbed his temples.

"I wish I could believe that, Damon, but I can't. What can I say? 'Oh hello, Your Majesty! I know I just spent last night in your prison when you thought I was here to kill you. Thank you so much for letting us go. Would you please pass the potatoes?'"

Damon bent over, laughing, his body shaking. As much as Nicholas hadn't been in the mood, he broke out laughing too seeing his captain laugh at something he said. He never joked much in his life. He had to admit it….it felt good to have someone laugh at something he said.

It didn't feel good but Elsa knew it was necessary. As Dr. Allen Imholde withdrew the needle from her arm, she winced and bit her lip.

"The procedure is finished, Your Highness," the thin, spectacled man said. "I'll analyze it and have the results delivered to you soon."

"Thank you, Dr. Imholde," she said, offering him a small smile.

The doctor nodded and turned to General Dewhurst.

"You said she was feeling faint, General?"

"Indeed, Allen," he said. "Almost immediately after her morning training. I feared that maybe she'd overexerted herself."

"Perhaps," the doctor said, looking thoughtful as he gathered his equipment and stowed the blood samples away. "We'll know more once the tests are completed. For now, my queen, I would suggest you rest."

Elsa turned to the window from where she was sitting in the hospital wing. The light was reddening as the afternoon began marching toward the evening.

"I'm afraid I won't have much time to rest," she said, her eyes almost glowing as the light shone on them. "It's almost time for dinner. I must prepare."

"The ballroom is being prepared as we speak, Your Majesty," Councilor Lyons said from the corner he was standing in. "Perhaps a short rest in your chambers would be most beneficial for you."

"I would agree with the councilor," Dr. Imholde said. "At least a small nap, Your Highness."

Elsa closed her eyes, blowing out a small breath she'd been holding. As much as she needed to do before the Southern Isles prince returned, she couldn't deny that she was feeling light-headed and a nap did sound nice. She hoped her blood would come back and show something. She had been undergoing this treatment for weeks now. None of them could explain why her powers were taking a toll on her energy more and more these days. She would undergo her training with the general and always feel so exhausted afterward, more than normal. Dr. Imholde had suggested analyzing her blood to see if her powers were having any latent effect on her body. As much as she wanted to have faith in the doctor, these weeks of blood-drawing hadn't revealed anything yet.

She wished it would. She was starting to get worried.

"Could I please spend a moment alone with the Queen, gentlemen?" Lyons asked the other two men.

Both the doctor and General Dewhurst looked to Elsa, who nodded to them.

"Very well," Dewhurst said. "We'll be right outside, my queen."

As the two men left the room, Elsa looked at Lyons as he walked toward her chair.

"As much as I want you to get your chambers, My Queen," he said. "I wanted to bring up what I talked to you about earlier. I feel now would be a good moment to show you what I meant."

Elsa closed her eyes and sighed. She knew exactly what her chief advisor was talking about.

"I know….but my answer is still no, Councilor. Just because I had a brief spell on the rampart this morning doesn't mean I can't run my own kingdom."

"I know, Elsa," Lyons quickly said. "I would never presume otherwise. Please know that. All that I'm suggesting is the creation of a government body that would help you take care of the more….pedestrian matters of Arendelle while you take care of the most pressing matters."

"And who would sit on this council that you're proposing?" She asked him tiredly. She really didn't want to talk about this right now, though she knew this was coming from a good place in the councilor's heart.

"Only half a dozen representatives, Your Highness," Lyons proposed. "Myself and five others that you trust. If you like, I can select them for you and bring you a list."

"There won't be any need," Elsa said. "Because I still haven't approved the creation of a council."

"But, I-"

"Not now, councilor," she said, holding a hand to her forehead, feeling the room almost pitch.

Lyons rushed to her side.

"I'm….I'm so sorry, My Queen. I won't trouble you with it anymore….today," he said. "I still think it is worth discussion, but allow me to escort you to your chamber for rest before dinner."

Elsa nodded, opening her eyes up to him, smiling.

"And Phase 1 of The Plan," she said.

Lyons chuckled.

"Indeed, Your Highness. Prince Nicholas won't know what hit him."

A/N: Thank you so much for your patience, dear readers! My life took an interesting turn since the last chapter. Career change. City Change. A lot. But now everything has finally settled and I'm back in the saddle!

I'll see you all soon. Much sooner than last. Go out and seize your day!

Cheers,
LCB