Baragor impatiently paced the deck. This... this was not going according to plan. Hans was dead- great. Kristoff was still working for him. Wonderful.
But he still needed a smoking gun.
See, if there was one thing he'd learned from Westerguard history, it is that Westerguard history was written in Westerguard blood. And the blood of their enemies.
The attack on the Winter's End had forced her into a Southern Isles port. Baragor himself had towed her in. Anna had been willing to go along with his offer. He made sure she had stayed quiet, and not draw too much attention. Preventing letters from reaching Arrendelle, Baragor had manufactured an international incident. Of course, if he was caught, he would be immediately banished from Europe itself. Nobody could abide that sort of behavior. Not there, not anywhere.
It all hinged on... (he sighed) sisterly love. It was the one thing he knew both sister's had; a singular blind spot, really. If he was to plunge a dagger into Elsa, it had to be from Anna, and vice-versa. Right now, Anna thought Elsa knew where she was, but didn't want her sister to have a vacation. And Elsa thought Anna was in real trouble. As long as one thought they knew what the other one was going through, neither would question the situation. It was perfect.
Until HANS!
Oh... he was a fighter. The young prince had cost Baragor a great deal of power with the pirates. On top of that, he had also cost the Westerguard family a great deal of respect in the international community- respect they were about to re-earn.
As long as Elsa behaved, of course.
Baragor had little reason to believe she wouldn't behave. The young queen would do anything to ensure the safety of her baby sister. He smirked. Betrayal was so useful.
"Wine," He ordered. Unfortunately, his timing wasn't exact. Looking out across the waves, he spotted the Winter's End's escort- just returned from the Southern Isles.
It was just his luck it was coming here now- today. Kristoff and his 'parents' were pretty sure the council was soon going to ratify the agreement with 'Black Spot'. It would only take a single piece of evidence to prove their guilt...
The wine arrived. Baragor took a sip.
"AH!"
He wondered what he would do with his kingship-after deposing Elsa of course. The ideal situation would work out well for all parties; he would be king, and Black Spot both. Arrendelle, a busy port, would be the perfect place to find good pillage-worthy ships. He would grow wealthy on turning over that information to the pirates, then reaping the bounty.
The castle doors locked up.
"Blast!" He cursed. The prince paced the deck once more.
"Your orders, sir?"
Baragor let out an impressive stream of cusses. If his ruse was discovered...
"Arm the cannons!" He ordered, "If we take out the ship-"
"Sir!" An upper-deck officer cried, "It's Sven!"
Baragor's eyes drew up to the magnificent beast as he galloped down the ruined alley between the ship and the seashore.
"YES!"
"Cannons armed, sir!"
"Bring me that animal!" Called Baragor, "And someone signal the fleet; it's time to move in!"
Baragor smirked as the red smoke rose to the sky. Within half an hour, his fleet would sail into the harbor and take control of the country.
As promised, Baragor found proof of Arrendelle's treachery on a slip of paper. He let out a loud laugh as his eyes flew across the page.
"YES!" Wait... Elsa hadn't signed, "NO!"
Baragor's eyes flew wide as he realized the paper would not grant him authority to depose the queen. He needed help, he needed...
"Brother?"
Baragor's eyes flew up as Hans descended from the Arrendelle ship.
"Happa Hans," Muttered the prince.
Well, this had gotten more complicated...