"Frozen Again: 'Faith, Hope, and Love"
Act III
Chapter 36
"A Ray of Hope "
"NEE! Dit is met recht de mijne!" (NOO! This is rightfully mine!)
Captain Houtebeen's feral scream echoes through the cavern shaft like the terrible death scream of a wounded animal as he desperately balances the treasured orb that still held within it the few precious remnants of his lifelong dream with more delicate care than his own descending and flailing broken body –
CLASP!
At the last possible second before total water spillage against gravity's demands, Houtebeen forgoes his own skin in total focused determination to clasp the Norwegian golden holy relic's lid tightly shut.
CRASH! SPLAT!
Though the pirate captain suffered several cracked ribs, not to mention a bloodied nose, in the hard fall to the cave's sharp rocky surface that Anna had fiercely shoved him down against, he managed to snap the orb's open lid tightly closed.
Even amidst his excruciating pain, the single-minded pirate's angry mouth curls into a sneer when he sees he had still salvaged his dream. He shakes the orb to his ear and listens with delight to the still viable Nidaros Shrine's spring waters still held within.
"U betaalt voor die, je kleine heks!" (You will pay for that, you little witch!)
Even if Anna couldn't speak a word of Dutch that the vehement captain reverts to, she had a feeling that whatever the old man just venomously spat out at her wasn't of any good tidings.
Especially, though he was debilitated even more now, Houtebeen levels his trusty Francotte pinfire revolver directly at the girl's orangey head.
Princess Anna of Arendelle could do nothing but hug her dear Papa's shivering unconscious body to her cradling rocking form with wide shocked eyes to stare down the face of the gun's merciless barrel…
"Cap'n! Don't! Da King might be hit, too! And you never finds out." Just then, Job's deep bass voice breaks into the madman's rage.
Job banks on the assumption that Houtebeen's seething hysteric need for revenge would be outweighed by his burning desire to see this hands-on trial of the legend's healing worth through.
Cooling down, the redheaded old seaman indeed lowers his weapon from its sight's direct aim at blowing off Anna's pretty little head.
"Zen why is za legend not being fulfilled?! Look at him! Still only half a broken worthless man!" The pirate angrily retorts, gazing over to the fallen king's yet debilitated body on Anna's caring lap.
"You're the worthless one to hurt my Papa like this, you venomous snake!" Anna's unafraid and peppery tongue can't help but retaliate for her silent father's sake.
"Silence! Vroutejeshond!" Seeing red, the old pirate raises his revolver again at the disruptive girl, whose eyes flare up to him insolently as if to dare for him to shoot.
When Anna's ire was up, it was way up. After all, she was 'born ready' – and also a little crazy.
"Please forgive her! She's just a child! Please, I beg you, Sir!" Her melodic voice choked up with motherly protection, Queen Idun bravely speaks up for her sharp tongued feisty daughter after sneaking in the shaft cavern behind the big dark man who was supposed be keeping tabs on her.
A bit feisty still herself, Idun fearlessly moves between the pirate and her dear ones as she kneels down to brush a tender hand to Agdar's shallowly breathing cheek. Her other palm touches Anna's tense shoulder as the Queen brings a serene calm to the confrontational scene with her sweet voice and healing presence.
"Houtebeen's always been too kind to ze ladies, it vill be ze ruin of him. Tie zem both up, Job." The pirate regains his composure after a moment of reflection on his next patient recourse. He continues to study Agdar's passed out, profoundly breathing and shaking form with quiet interest as Job silently complies to his order and gathers up the spunky girl who is unwilling to leave her injured father's side.
It didn't take much of Job's ample muscle to 'convince' her though, as his large hands grab hold of the inside of Anna's armpits to simply pick her straight up off the floor, though slowly enough for her to rest her papa's troubled pale gray-blonde head on ground gently.
"If you promise to leave her alone, I think I may know the reason as to why the legend is not yet working." Idun says after a few thoughtful moments, renewing their previous conversation as she looks the pirate directly in the eye when passing.
"Speak, woman." Houtebeen bears the pain in his lower abdomen to stand up with his crutch and invite Idun to illustrate her words with a smooth smile.
"Good Book prevails,
if nail for nails;
No one can tell,
who tolls the Bell;
Forget it none,
Life-giving sun…"
"The Saga of St. Olaf states that the healing spring water needs the sunlight
for its legendary powers to be activated."
The intelligent woman concludes, recalling passages of the legend that she had learned well of the consecrated 11th century Norwegian king and his poetically transcribed legendary exploits to spread Christianity throughout Scandinavia that the current Norwegian king held as his lifelong pursuit and interest, almost to the point of obsession from an early age.
Agdar had put to memory every royal tradition and national folklore from long ago since he was a lad himself so he would be as fair a King, as gentle a ruler, as dutiful a servant, as good a man as his noble ancestors before. Just like the one told of in this ancient verse and rhyme.
And Idun had picked up from her husband portions of the stirring Skaldic poetry since the happy exciting days of their courtship.
Now, the woman, still madly in love with the beautiful dreamer, strokes her beloved mate's much creased with pain forehead with each lyrical word of the ancient Saga that she hears replay in Agdar's deep voice on her heart.
Job gently wrenches Idun away from the downed king and pulls her into Anna as he ties the two of them together, back-to-back, so neither has the use of her upper limbs.
"Ze sunlight, eh?" With his one incredulous eye contemplating the idea the Queen just flew, Houtebeen strokes his long red and white beard with mercurial consideration.
He glances around at the utter darkness perpetuating the dark cavern, save for the eerie flashing incandescence of a few firelit torches hanging around the shaft walls.
"Job!" The pirate's biting voice orders loud and sharply. "Pick up ze king! Ve are going outside to see if ze sunlight vishes to give him vone last chance before my patience runs out."
The way Captain Houtebeen said that, Anna and her mother could feel each other's dual heartbeats increase in palpitation as they are prodded by the wicked pirate's cane to walk forward.
Houtebeen sadistically smacks his walking stick at Anna's soft rear end to signal to the trudging girl to start to walk more briskly. She then skitters across the pebbly ground, pulling Idun with her because their wrists were snugly tied together.
At each other's back, mother and daughter try to learn a four-legged race's rhythm to move through the cavern shaft with the two pirates carting the weak Agdar towards the far off entrance, down the cave's maze.
Where, at the end of the tunnel, the healing light of day that the King and Queen of Arendelle had not glimpsed in over five years time, was calling…
The light of day…
Perhaps the sun in this Midnight Sun time of year Northern region of the country was too scared and too timid of the pirate's threats, as well. Or maybe it was just impishly mischievous, for a sudden inexplicable cloudburst breaks through the heretofore all day sun's reign in the sky.
An unpredicted rainstorm was not the norm in this climate's blustery dry and full sunny common weather patterns around here on Mosken Island.
But tonight the weather was volatile, as Kristoff and Sven were finding out firsthand. Their thundering hooves' race around the mountain is mirrored by the deafening crack of loud rumbling clouds menacingly overhead.
"Rain. Just great." With a grumbled sigh at the thick drops of moisture that begin to pelt down on his head, Kristoff pulls up the dark hood of his gray cape over his blonde mane.
The abrupt downpour forces Sven to wisely slow from his gallant gallop to a careful canter upon the path's slick muddy grasses.
This area of Mosken's mountain meadow that ran up against the upper section headwall, usually saddled the land between it and the 1300 meter tall Wilhelmstind Peak with its green and violet flowery scenery.
But all the vivid colors that this one and only section of the otherwise rocky and sandy island offered, were now dulled, drab, and made lifeless by the dreary dark stormy clouds suddenly hovering over.
Kristoff sure wasn't here for the scenic views of blue ocean and even bluer open skies, but the wet muddy trails would certainly slow him and his cloven-hoofed reindeer down when speed was of the essence.
With another grunted sigh, the burly ice harvester strains to see through the dark sheets of rain to where he was going.
After all, Scuttle had not been more helpful than giving them a general vicinity. But that shouldn't have proven too much a problem for this outdoorsman.
Kristoff and Sven had honed the art of the tracker in between their small enterprise business of ice harvesting in slow months, years ago.
Thus far, after the advised direction from the helpful seagull, Kristoff and Sven pause every now and then to investigate the location site. Kristoff had used his natural skills of a tracker to swiftly analyze what part of the island Anna and her kidnappers had traversed earlier.
Footprints, broken branches, flattened grasses, the smells of sweat and foreign agents – Kristoff and Sven had learned to track them all over the years spent out in the wilds together.
But now, the blasted rain would wash away even Anna's all too familiar particular body scent that Kristoff adored and that he had been intuitively following.
["Now what, Buddy?"] Thoroughly soaked to the bone by the fierce rain in only the first few minutes of it, Sven too felt dejected by the dark clouded sky above them that dashed all hopes of their scent tracking success to the proverbial wind.
["There must be something else that could tell us where Anna has gone!"] The wetness was beginning to seep into his drenched cape as well, and Kristoff damns the howling wind as he refuses to give up, even as all looks grim.
After his brown eyes scan the rain coated area as best they could see through the storm's blurred veil, Kristoff was just about to prompt Sven to try in the opposite direction, more towards the 1.5 km uninhabited island's Northern interior when he sees –
A sunflower? That doesn't belong here…
Amidst the drab, greyed-out flattened by the rain's harsh intensity landscape, a single flower that never grew in this northerly mountain meadow clime was still open wide in all her bright yellow glory, in spite of the pounding rain that frightened all other blooms away.
["That's Anna's!"] Like a beacon shining brightly across the field, at the sight of the sunflower comb that Elsa had crafted for her little sister's birthday a couple years ago, Kristoff's mind cries out in joy for his missing gal.
He leaps off Sven's back to trip over himself in dashing to the rock pile cairn where Anna had surreptitiously placed her favorite hair comb for him to find as a secret clue.
With a big grateful smile that could envelope the world on his handsome exuberant face, Kristoff reaches out to grab the comb and press the brightest, happiest flower God ever created, to his lips and kiss it lovingly.
For he had recognized how his clever Anna had braid twisted her comb's three blue, green, and yellow ribbons. She had plucked and arranged some of the flower petals of the comb to shape into an interesting arrowhead that pointed directly at the rock face in an upward position, signaling a necessary climb.
Without another thought, Kristoff mounts his reindeer. Their two minds linked as one, with abandon, Sven and his pungent, valiant rider rush towards the southwestern base of the Wilhelmstind mountain peak down the divergent overgrown path that the sunflower named 'Anna' indicated for her love to follow…
Back atop the mountain…
By the time the hobbling old pirate, the two strapped together females, and the big man carrying the moaning and groaning half a figure of the King, make their slovenly way through the maze of the talus cavern on the mountain, it was raining outside.
"Vat! Vere is ze damn sun?!" The angry, aggravated, and aggrieved peg leg swears when he is greeted at the cave entrance by a wall of pounding rain and darkened thunderclouds coating the overcast sky above, so not one single solar ray could pierce through its thick cover.
"Perhaps ze overhead daylight is enough! Take him out to the middle, and lay ze king out zere for a time, Job." The inconsiderate old man, after all, cared only for his selfish ends as he orders Job to bring wounded King Agdar's unconscious body out into the thrashing storm and leave him out there mercilessly in the pounding cold rain, to either watch him catch pneumonia –
-Or witness a miracle.
"No! Papa! Don't do it, Mister Job!" Anna puts her two 'orts' in, feeling she and the big man had enough of a rapport to have him join the side of right in mutiny against his evil Captain.
Job pauses to turn and stare at her with a troubled look in his eye, though his face doesn't move a muscle.
"JOB! Take him out there immediately!" Houtebeen re-orders, not about to give his lackey a third command. His hand was already resting on his pistol in its holster at his side.
"Dis is not da time, Missy." Is all Job quietly says under his breath to Anna's wide eyes. He does as he is instructed by his superior and walks out into the pelting rain with King Agdar's broken excuse for a body in his grasp.
Anna and her mother watch in craned neck horror at how Job, while himself getting soaked to the bone, lays the vulnerable, wounded King to the bare ground of the scree pebbled high mountain-spur ridge.
Houtebeen, too, was watching with wild intent, his single eye glued to Agdar's deducted form for any sign of instant miraculous change.
When none visibly comes in the covered daylight's pouring rain, Houtebeen begins to growl vindictively, swearing under his breath.
"Please! This is cruel! You can't leave Papa out there in this horrible rainstorm! He'll catch pneumonia in that cold downpour! This doesn't make any sense! He needs a doctor and you need a psychiatrist, you mental old man!" Bold and brash, Anna begs and demands and insults Houtebeen's sanity simultaneously. She did not understand the whole 'Fountain of Youth,' nor 'St. Olaf's Spring' foretold legend, even if it was a well-known ancient literary saga of her own ancestor and nation's past revered canonized saint.
It didn't help that Anna never did pay much attention to her studies of history in her youth. It was so much more fun to play and climb trees in the backyard than have had her nose stuck in books like Elsa always did behind that closed door!
"Houd je mond!" (Shut your mouth!) Frustrated Captain Houtebeen slaps a vicious backhand across Anna's maddening mouth that wouldn't stop questioning him in this deafening summer storm.
No hands to protect herself, Anna recoils, defiantly wiping her bloody lip on her shoulder and giving the rotten old pirate a dirty look.
"Anna!" Queen Idun tries desperately to turn to see her baby girl's injury, but she could only glimpse the blood spilling from Anna's mouth from the corner of her large lustrous tear-filled eyes.
"I'm fine, Mama." Anna reassures her mother as she bravely licks her tongue to the split lip to try to halt the thick blood flow.
"Keep yer sharp tongued child silent, voman, if you vish for her to live long." Houtebeen threatens, his depraved heart not feeling one bit ashamed for his striking a girl or a child before its own mother.
"Job! Be of zome use! Take your infernal contraption to go and fetch ze rest of our supplies that ye left down at the base of ze mountain. Ve might be needing zem, if ze sun is going to play hide and seek with Houtebeen for a spell. Zis may take a vhile, and ve'll need ze food." The hungry pirate callously orders his unfortunate first mate to make the cold and wet trip down the mountainside by his pulley system for the remainder of their packs of foodstuffs and gear, even in the unrelenting pouring rain.
Using the pirates' inattention, Idun yanks at Anna by their entwined wrists to pull her away from the enraged despicable man as the mother and daughter pair skirts away to a side corner of the cavern opening.
"Mama? What—?" Tough guy Anna begins to protest, not wanting to look like a coward for backing away from any enemy, especially not if she could keep pestering to get the mean pirate to bring Papa back under cover.
The brave girl didn't care what would happen to her if she could help him.
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me." Careful not to be overheard, Idun begins to softly sing clear out of the blue as she leans her head to Anna's blood stained cheek.
"Mama? Why?" Anna always knew her sweet mama to be a devoutly Christian woman, but the blatantly open feisty girl didn't know if this was the proper time or place for her mother to be singing religious hymns, with Papa out in the mercy of the cold elements and danger all around them at the hands of this crazed wicked pirate.
"Shush, my baby. Shh…" Idun hushes her littlest girl into a stunned quiet before she continues to sing.
"— I once was lost, but now I'm found. T'was blind, but now I see."
As her mother's lilting soprano echoes through her ears, reverberates in her mind, touches her heart and soul, Anna feels a strange, almost burning glow as the uncanny warmth that she suddenly remembers now in this moment, from days of childhood when Mama would sing her boo-boos away—though many they may have been for the klutzy little bare-knuckled girl— and everything would be all fixed up again when she woke up in the magic flash of her sweet Mama's wiggled nose after the little girl was lulled to sleep in a nap.
Now in the present, Anna's split and bleeding lower lip glows in that same golden aura again as the cut mystically closes up, with visions of a glimmering golden lily flower blossom vivid in the young girl's dizzy mind…that special sun-blessed Campanula Rapunculus of Idun's youth…
"Mama? How did you—? That's amazing!" Anna whispers in childlike wonderment of her exhausted, yet blissfully smiling mother.
"You're all right now, min lilla bebis. Mama will make it all right." Anna recalls that warm cozy feeling of falling asleep to the lilting sound of her mother's sweet voice, in the glow of her Mama's warm healing love.
Anna smiles to hear the same comforting words that only a mother could comfort her child with, ringing true in her head from all those happy days spent so close and tight knit beside her beloved parents, whom she thought to be normal and ordinary just like her.
She just never realized that they, too, may have concealed some mysterious magical ability from her, just like Elsa did for all those long lonely years.
Well, not quite like Elsa.
Or so Anna believed…
…T'was blind, but now I see…
CRRR-RAACKK! THUNDERCRASH!
RRR-RUMMM-BBBLE….
The sudden violent storm's pounding veil of rain didn't bother Queen Elsa of Arendelle and her entourage of rescuers at all. After the brewing clouds trumpeted in a crashing roar at their imminent opening, Kmdr. Westergaard, reading the threatening clouds, had suggested to his Queen to form her gelid frozen powers over the soon-to-be-drenched team's heads, rather than as a slippery slick at their feet.
The mountain path was an upwards grade anyway, where an ice slicked skating rink of sorts that she had been providing below for greater speed in traversing, would prove inadequately ineffectual now.
So the team of four humans, one snowman, and one chameleon would have to make the remainder of the journey on normal unaided foot, to run and walk on their own power.
But at least they didn't have to get wet and be slowed in the urgent process of catching up to the speeding away rangifer and his determined partner, hell-bent on a mission to reclaim his bride.
"Are you doing all right, Elsa?" By now, Prince Hans had given up the pretense of his attempt to stay aloof and detached of the beautiful gracious monarch of this great land – at least for this difficult leg of their incredible journey together.
Hans recognized that Elsa needed all the help and support she could get in order to locate her kidnapped sibling. Hans Westergaard's corrupted heart owed both sisters too much to stand as any impediment – emotional or otherwise – in the Queen' s way.
So, in the past days' quiet reflection of soulful prayer in the loneliness of evening, as he stood tall and erect at the ship' s bowsprit, Kommander Hans Westergaard looked out over the silver-flaked sea on the proud Naval vessel she had magnanimously given him her trust in commanding. There he had prayed to God Above for the fortitude and strength of purpose to render aid in the best way he could to the pale icy angel of light who found a tender place in her warm – never cold – heart to envelop his cold heart in her gentle sweet glow.
And until Princess Anna was returned to the bosom of her loving family, safe and sound, reformed Prince Hans of the Southern Isles would not fail his benefactress' fragile beauty.
Even if he knew it was vanity to allow himself these brief moments to enjoy her splendid smiles along the ephemeral way.
It must be ephemeral only. He deserved nothing more than contempt from the doe-eyed lady who has given him so much. Hans vowed to himself that he would never again take advantage of her, especially in this dire situation of her confused emotions.
After the happy conclusion to this terrible trial was successfully reached, with all the assistance he could offer, Hans would walk away, with hopefully some degree of the longed for redemption the Creator demanded of his criminally tainted soul in exile.
And never again would he disrupt the peaceful lives of the Queen and Princess of Arendelle.
"Yes, Kommander. I'm fine. I can do this." Her lovely face was so tightly squinted up in determination that the red-haired man couldn't help but let his mind wander to consider her petite nose adorably cute.
Ice Queen Elsa's focused power retains a constant thin frosting of the incoming rain's moisture to keep a verglas vigil over the group' s gratefully dry heads, even amidst the pounding thunderstorm.
"We are definitely inviting this gal for our pool parties in Corona! Woo hoo! Take that, you old buzzer Storm Cloud! Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah –Oof!" Even in strung-out tense circumstances, Flynn Rider never let down a false front of his noisy bravado – or his bad luck/good luck penchant, either — as he stumbles out from under Elsa's 'frozen umbrella' he had just been busy hailing, to stumble into the rain at the rear flank of their happy squadron that he'd been taking up.
"Who left the dag-blame—what is this thing?— Muddy Buddy of a sheep in the road? What is this world coming to when you can't trust your fellow man to at least have the common courtesy to pick up from the road his discarded livestock litter, gathering wool at my feet? I asked you?!" As Eugene swears and complains and rants of the degradated state of the modern age – circa fast-paced 1841 – his quick hands scoop up the little roundy pile of spongy mud splattered woolen ball that had tripped him.
"Oohh! Let me see him! Oh! Poor wittle baby-waby! Mamma Rapunzel wishes she still had her magic hair to sing away that nasty scratch on your wittle tummy-wummy. Did the bad man step on you?" Brown- haired Rapunzel coos and tickles the dirt streaked gray wool little lamb that was held out in her husband's incredulous hands.
"Bad man?! How come I didn't get that 'baby-waby' voice kind of attention when I was dragged through the mud with more than a few scrapes and scratches on my little tummy-wummy?" Eugene jealously whines with a droll twisted lip and skeptical droopy eyelids at his wife's typical female-plus-fuzzy-creature-in-need banter.
"Well, you weren't as cutsy-wootsy, cuddly-wuddly as this tiny wittle baby, when we found you all dirt caked from, I don't know, grave robbing, were you?" Rapunzel's cooed baby talk transfers to a teasingly accusing smirk up at her lover in the end.
Eugene's mouth drops open down at her.
"Oh, the iniquities of not having a furry coat." The former thief gives his final rhetorical swing at this losing battle of wits with his wife on the subject of him getting proper attention.
"How did this little guy get way up here on this uninhabited island? I wonder if he's a poor unwanted orphan, too." Rapunzel pets the lamb's weakly raised forehead, planting a sweet kiss on it as she gathered the wayward quadruped ruminant animal in her welcoming arms.
This wee little lamb must've wandered away from the fold and found itself lost between the rocky cliff cracks, soon after being born. It was accidentally forgotten after some enterprising Norske farmer bravely ventured in the well-timed quiet of semi-diurnal tides of the fearsome Moskenstraumen, to bring his herd to graze on the choice–albeit treacherous-mountainside of Mosken in the short window of springtime. The sheepherder left the island again, minus one tiny lamb, and he was not about to come back for it, rather giving it up for dead.
But with no natural predator on the untouched Mosken, the little lamb miraculously survived having to fend for itself, alone for several months, grazing off the land.
"We are not adopting any runty lost sheep, Liebling! Come on! Who knows which poor Norwegian farmer you'd be stealing it from! It, thank God, must belong to someone! We don't even know if it's properly vaccinated! It might even have rabies for all we know. Besides, we have enough problem pets." With Maximus, the pompous horse on the forefront of his mind, Eugene also had his 'winning' way of ribbing his main rival for his bleeding heart wife's attention at every chance he could.
He and Pascal never did hit it off from the start, ever since the 'frog' stuck his tongue menacingly in the thief's ear.
Several times! I can still feel that rough 40 grit sandpaper of the tongue you have, right now. And it still icks me out just to think about it.
Eugene and Pascal give each other the evil eye as the chameleon is perched at the man's eye level on Rapunzel's inattentive shoulder.
"Lambykins needs some love and care to get better." Rapunzel's soft maternal side was coming out again, much to Eugene's twisted lip chagrin.
"Is 'Lambykins' even a sensible, sane name? If you want my opinion, I'd prefer to call him 'lamb chop' once we get this little fella fattened up." Giving into the inevitable, raising his eyebrows up and down in insinuation, witty Eugene wickedly taunts the woolly creature, whose baleful little black eyes go fearful when the mercenary man pokes the lamb's side with his finger to judge the plumpness factor of the emaciated lamb's not–so-meaty ribs.
The baby sheep's wet body shivers, as, zoning out her husband, Rapunzel, towels 'Lambykins' –not to be confused with a 'lambchop', as Eugene's savory palate preferred—off with her skirt hem.
"Eugene! He'll hear you!" Rapunzel yells at her hubby's crass unfeeling word that obviously upset the little lamb who shrinks back into the folds of her now more ample bosom.
Eugene rolls his eyes to the raging heavens as the couple plus baby sheep continues to walk forward beneath Elsa's magic ice umbrella.
"'If a man had a hundred sheep and one has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety and nine and go into the mountains to search for the one which has gone astray? I know my sheep, and my sheep will know me.'" Eloquent Hans had been lightly eavesdropping on his brother and wife's argument of marital bliss as he puts together several Biblical and philosophically applied quotes containing sheep that the Good Shepherd Himself instructed us to care for.
"'Feed my sheep', Storbror." Hans addresses his brother with a lofty smile over his shoulder as he offers the wisdom of the Scripture to his perplexed elder sibling, though he purposely left out some of St. John's verses retelling Jesus' parable that seemed quite apropos right about now concerning those sheep and the thieves that they didn't get along with very well.
"What?! There might be more?! I sure as hell hope there aren't no ninety-nine more of these fuzzballs out there trying to trip me up in the road, Sideburns! My tender-hearted little lady'll end up wanting to take in every motherless stray, and we'll have to trade the castle in for a farm." Beneath his panicky breath, Eugene bewails Hans' meant to be soul reaching words, taking them more at literal face value.
Hans clears his throat with a half-suppressed snigger at the fitting analogy and his brother's humorous reaction to it, making Elsa, who knew her Bible well, too, understand his hidden mirth in the midst of their shared anxiety that went right over his more irreverent brother's head.
Elsa chuckles her lovely lilting laugh at the man's discerning charm that bolstered her even in moments of duress such as these. Hans' tenor voice calms a tensed Elsa with the best prescribed medicine of the joy in God's Word, as she gazes into his secure green eyes with grateful admiration.
This little romantic interlude causes Eugene to roll his eyes in his head again even further skyward as Olaf joins Rapunzel in the silly baby-waby talk over the woolly hitchhiker that Eugene had had the bad fortune of crashing into on the road.
Or was it? Time and tide alone could tell as the group moves towards the rain drenched Wilhelmstind mountain peak. Kommander Westergaard's keen eye was still keeping track of man and reindeer's racing path leading the way to find Anna, beneath the mystical tinkling umbrella of frosted ice that Ice Queen Elsa maintained over them…
Glisten…glisten…tinkle…tinkle…
Spadbarns – Little one in Swedish
Vrouwtjeshond – bitch (female dog) in Dutch
Houd je mond! – "Shut your mouth!" in Dutch
Min lilla bebis – my little baby in Swedish