Special thanks go to RohnHazard for being an excellent editor and advisor, and to my band teacher for introducing Second Suite in F by Gustav Holst; that was the most fun I've ever had playing music, even counting that time the Symphonic Band played in Carnegie Hall.

In other words, there's a musical section near the bottom, starting at the baritone solo of Movement IV: Fantasia on the Dargason. Have a listen!

...Yes, I know it's anachronistic.

Chapter 19

Mastery of Tact and Grace

Helge's Journal Observations, Passage No. 8(?):

I'm fully aware of what you and the Royal Family are up to, Mister Helge. I know it is not as if you were trying to keep it a tight secret, but men and women like me have learned over the years to discover all that occurs within these castle walls, especially plotting of the most severe kind. Needless to say, I don't recall feeling this displeased since Arendelle's... previous rulers still took office.

Now, as but a simple servant to the Royal Family, I have no power in changing Her Majesty's mind, nor telling you to leave the premises. Neither do I truly want to; if only you weren't a harbinger, this note would have been far friendlier in tone.

So, once you wake up from that stone form of yours to read this slip of paper, grant this old man's request, one who had tended to the Queen and the Princess since they were children...

Please, promise me that you'll keep them safe.

- Kai

"Ngh..."

A lean and muscular man turned his head to the raven-haired lady next to her, his dark eyebrows drawn together in concern. "Are you alright, Ellie?"

"Ellie" was something given to Elsa by Peter Himmel, a pet name he had taken a shine to almost immediately after she told him her alias. While she had long since accepted this informal dubbing without open objections, partly because it didn't sound too far off from her real identity, she did wonder how differently the corsair would have addressed her if he knew he was actually escorting the Queen of Arendelle in disguise.

As a result, she found it rather awkward to always respond to her new companion correctly, especially now that an ugly feeling of nausea was starting to throb just beneath her skin. Her interaction was getting better though: This time, after only a second's delay, Elsa managed to smile back through the fresh wave of agony. "It's nothing," she muttered. She winced again, and clutched at the right side of her ribs. "Perhaps that man you're carrying had hit me more than I expected."

The sea captain stared at the cloaked lady for a few seconds as they walked together, a massive and bulky criminal tied and slung loosely over his shoulder like a captured hunting prize. Without a warning, he bent over and lightly tapped Elsa's right side with two fingers, drawing out a sharp gasp of surprise from Elsa. She in turn glared daggers at him for the unprovoked contact, until he was almost physically repelled by the frigid intensity of her blue eyes.

"Ah. Sorry about that, Ellie." Peter apologized, raising a free hand up in surrender. "I just wanted to know if you were walking around with a broken rib. Could end badly if not tended to quickly."

Elsa's eyebrows shot upwards.

"Hey hey, relax! It felt more like a light bruise to me." Peter Himmel assured. "Apparently, you're just finally feeling your injuries now that the rush of fighting is over."

"I... I guess." Elsa murmured, rubbing at her tender side once more. "It's nothing too bad, at least... but next time you try touching me, please ask first."

"Gotcha." The young man shifted a little to relieve is shoulder of the criminal's weight for a bit, and whistled a sharp note to capture Elsa's attention. "We're here."

The disguised Queen would have likely figured that out for herself, even if it weren't for the tell-tale sign cheerfully spelling its name on the building in question. In a way, the place reminded her of Sigurd's blacksmith shop, covering a wide expanse of space to compensate for its one-story height. From within, she could hear the muffled sound of jaunty music accompanied by hollers and cheers, the tavern's brick walls being too insufficient in stifling the din. No doubt, they were byproducts of this homecoming party Peter Himmel had mentioned earlier.

...Party...

"Um... Mister Himmel?"

"Hm?"

Elsa brought her hands together, suddenly developing an interest in digging the dirt out from beneath her fingernails. "About this gathering... exactly how many people will be inside?"

The tall captain shrugged absentmindedly with his free shoulder. "Eh, just about my shipmates, and maybe some of the regular pub-goers. Oh, and you." He paused in thought, mulling over his words as he stared up at the grey skies. "There's no need to be nervous, each and every one of them would want to meet and shake hands with you."

Elsa bit the bottom of her lip as she stared at the tavern door. That's exactly what she was feeling uneasy about.

Peter Himmel raised an eyebrow at the cloaked lady, his sharp eyesight suddenly narrowing down on her fidgety body language. "Hey..." he began gently, "you're not really much of a people-person, are you?"

Elsa continued staring at the door, her ears still focused in on the noise bleeding through the crevices, and slowly shook her head.

The privateer's eyes widened, and he stared at the disguised Queen with his mouth agape, completely flabbergasted. "Ridiculous. I never would have guessed that you were one of them shy folks..." Peter Himmel shook his head in disbelief, but then reaffirmed his default grin as he clicked his leather heels together and stood straight. "As captain of the Andersen's Quill, it is my duty to keep my guests at ease. If you're really that concerned about having others pay attention to you, then I won't make too much a big deal about your arrival. Since it's not like you're going to live with these guys for weeks on end anyway, there is no reason to be worried!"

"What? Worried?" Elsa scoffed, a reaction which seemed to mildly amuse the corsair. "Thank you Mister Himmel, but there's nothing to be worried about between us two. Nope. Not at all."

Of course, Elsa had been lying through her teeth; she was crossing her arms in an attempt to hold herself securely now, which from an outsider's perspective would have seemed to be an annoyed expression. In reality though, she was distinctly recalling just how easy it was for her to deal with people on one-on-one conversations: she only had to be concerned with one person paying attention to her, only one person to stare at her with only one pair of eyes, only one person to judge her with only one opinion...

Elsa's ears perked up as a new sound seeped through the tavern's brick walls. It progressed into a full melody, of which she tuned herself in towards while pushing away her troubled thoughts. Her head swayed slowly to the rhythm, her voice tempted to hum along: At first, it was mostly just a couple of strings playing some haunting notes, but then more instruments such as woodwinds joined in, picking up the tempo, changing the rhythm, and then the melody escalated into something as light-footed and whimsical as a romp through Arendelle's mountain peaks. Shortly after, the music shifted back into something unfamiliar and new, but the brief excerpt was unmistakable to Elsa's ears while it lasted. "Hey..." she noted with a widening smile, "Wasn't that a work from Ole Bull?"

Peter Himmel adjusted the man slumped over his shoulder to scratch at his own head. "How should I know? All I've got are some runaway students from some rundown establishment in Leipzig." He then burst into laughter, having witnessed the normally demure blue-eyed lady now giving him an incredulous stare. "A fan of music, eh? Now I'm sure you'll absolutely love Olaf when he comes in!"

The corners of Elsa's lips lifted as she smiled back at the corsair, although her good humor was out of a completely different reason than he would have presumed. "I'm not too bad at a piano..." she admitted. The little diversion did wonders for Elsa's confidence, and she waved a hand out to the door in an inviting gesture. "You know what, Mister Himmel? I think it is about time."

The man grinned. "That's the spirit. Just leave it to me, Ellie." Stretching a free arm out at the wooden tavern door, he grasped his fingers around the brass handle, and swung it open to let a wash of golden light and warmth flood outwards.

Inside the tavern was absolute pandemonium: the first thing that Elsa could take notice was the cacophony, which had been boiling inside the enclosed room to a fever pitch before Peter Himmel finally opened up an exit point. Like an explosion finally released from its bomb casing, a bizarre blend of music, singing, chants, jeers, clinks, shouts, and stomps rushed through the doorway like a tangible being, with enough force to blow back Elsa's darkened bangs by reverberation alone.

Of course, that was just the chaos overloading Elsa's sense of hearing; bathed in the yellow light of glowing lamps were people of all shapes, sizes, and shades of skin, clapping and hollering together with mouths spilling with food as performers danced on a wooden table with graceful steps and twirls. Men and women alike chanted shamelessly in each other's arms to a musical group that played joyously with ruddy faces in a corner, their instruments gleaming and blaring rich tones and rhythms. Others joined in by banging their silverware to provide percussive noises, including one particularly creative fellow who shook a contraption made entirely out of dangling dinner forks.

"Oh my." Elsa squeaked, an act which was all she could manage at this point: The entire scene was absolutely terrifying and alien to the disguised Queen, shattering her newfound aplomb as easily as thin ice. This wasn't the happy chaos she had grown accustomed to for three weeks, stirred by the mischief of her extended family. This was complete anarchy held by complete strangers, none of whom she had ever seen in her life, and obviously held true for vice versa. Her mind went blank, her body went rigid, she was absolutely stunned, too overwhelmed to even think about backtracking politely and running far, far away to the ends of the world, away from this madness. Too petrified to move on her own, she was instead dragged inside the tavern like a statue by an elated sea captain. Elsa only snapped back into full awareness when the door slammed shut behind her, sealing her fate.

Then, Peter Himmel did the one thing Elsa had waited for with dread anticipation, even as he himself brimmed with excitement: the privateer flopped the tied criminal to a wooden chair, hopped onto a sturdy-looking table, and clapped his hands loudly twice over the crowd.

At first, nobody seemed to have paid attention to the captain, and proceeded with their current activities uninterrupted.

Peter Himmel sighed, and simply raised a hand up high instead, much like how one would in a school classroom to answer a teacher's question. Incredibly, this managed to grab the interest of one man, a veritable tree stump that somehow grew a head and thick limbs, in the middle of guzzling down his beer, who then raise his hand up in turn and watched with patient, dark eyes.

Elsa swallowed hard in light of his gaze, and she could tell a reprieve was not going to come anytime soon; her heart and brain kicked into overdrive as yet another person, a woman with muscles pressing against her shirt in addition to the usual lumps, mirrored the captain as well. Then, another patron did the same next to her. Then another. And another. Even the band slowly halted their playing, twisting around on their seats to investigate the gradual decrease in activity. With a single lift of a hand that could hardly be called a salute, an entire horde of people silenced themselves in short order, and turned towards Peter Himmel and Elsa with curious looks that burned into the disguised Queen's consciousness.

The privateer captain looked around with a smirk, evidently drinking in as long as possible the air of command over these riotous men and women, and only jumped down from the table when the extended silence was starting to get awkward. He landed directly in front of Elsa, providing relief and shelter by blocking the pub-goers' pressing stares and burning sclera. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he announced, dramatically flourishing a hand at the unconscious thug lying clumsily on the chair. "Fellow members! We have finally apprehended the wanted criminal Emil 'Sticky Hand' Hansen and his bounty! Drinks on me all the way to sundown!"

The entire tavern roared with thunderous applause at the prospect of more booze, with several shipmates stamping their feet on the wooden floor until the combined noise was an entire beast by itself. The commotion rattled Elsa's eardrums, and she was forced to mentally repeat to herself why she came here in the first place before she could panic: Stay and find Olaf, take me to Anna and Kristoff, Stay and find Olaf, take me to Anna and Kristoff...

Peter Himmel tapped Elsa lightly on the shoulder, and slowly made his way through the crowd, looking all-too pleased with himself even as the jubilation died down back into manageable levels. Fortunately for the cloaked lady, who now held tightly onto the strings of her bonnet to keep it in place, his presence provided just enough free space for her to walk relatively unscathed, as people stood up and edged away from their spots to allow their captain to move along. Most of them more or less ignored the cloaked stranger... all except for a balding man who rose from his seat to pat Peter Himmel on the back. "Oy, Captain!" he shouted with a lopsided grin. "Are you aware of the lovely lady following behind you?"

Peter Himmel froze for a split-second, for the first time losing the casual air of confidence that he had maintained for so long. Elsa reacted no better, and she was sorely tempted to just shrink away apologetically and disappear into the crowd before her nerves could get any more shot.

Oh come the heck on, Elsa, give yourself a break. This wasn't like yesterday, when you embarrassed yourself in front of an entire restaurant. You were even in your Queenly get-up at the time!

And then an insight suddenly struck the raven-haired lady like a spark: She was right, Elsa was a Queen, for crying out loud. She's dealt with far more harrowing situations than this within a single day alone! Sure, there may be days where it is extra tough on her, days when her toleration for social pressure were at all-time lows, but this is not going to be one of them. If she was going to get anywhere inside this hectic and high-octane tavern and find Olaf, she's going to have to make more of an effort to stand her ground without assistance.

So, Elsa suppressed her natural fight or flight response, replacing it with the cool and collected demeanor she was supposed to maintain all these years growing up. Breathing slowly, she flash an acknowledging smile to both the captain and his subordinate. "My name is Elizabeth, sir. Excuse me for not introducing myself earlier, but I was invited here." She curtsied with a small dip of her head. "I thank you in advance for your hospitality."

The leading corsair blinked in surprise, but the balding man merely laughed out loud at Elsa's words. "It's about time Captain Himmel brought a real lady for once!" He leaned forward and beckoned her to come closer, muttering in sotto voice, "Just between you and me, Miss Elizabeth, we need more people like you working at the Quill. Most of his recent recruits are not as easy on the eyes-"

A statuesque brunette woman with hair shaved off the sides of her head to a fuzz, who had been standing within the vicinity to offhandedly listen in on the conversation, abruptly strong-armed the man into a chokehold before he could say another word. "Now now," she crooned, teasingly pulling at his sun-burnt cheeks, "shouldn't we have more proper gentlemen on this crew as well? You're scaring the new girl." She turned to face Elsa, and bared her teeth in a wide, toothy and confident grin. "Don't mind guys like this one, Miss, everyone does it a lot around here. Welcome to the crew!"

"Ack! Glrk!" the balding man uttered, tugging at the lady's cheeks in retaliation.

The privateer captain chuckled in amusement, but stepped in to intervene before the two began to engage in a grappling match. "For the record, Ellie's not joining anything in the near future." he clarified. "She's a guest who has done me a great favor, and I expect my companions and friends to treat her with the utmost respect. Understood?"

Both shipmates paused in their scuffle to proudly salute, and then proceeded with their antics while Peter Himmel passed by with an approving nod. Elsa moved as well to follow in his wake, but not before stopping close enough for the wrestling two to hear her beneath the public rancor. "For the record, I think you are absolutely beautiful..." she said to the woman quietly. "...Especially with what you've done with your hair."

The statuesque privateer stared at Elsa, puzzlement initially painting her face like a dog who had just heard an unfamiliar command. Then, her eyes began to soften, and she nodded to the cloaked lady in earnest gratitude. As Elsa hastened to catch up to Peter Himmel again, the disguised Queen's ears could just barely pick out the female crew member's voice as she remarked to her wrestling partner, "Huh... you were right. We do need more people like her running around..."

Elsa's face flushed with embarrassment, even though the two were now lost to the feasting and happy bunch that was the Andersen's Quill Privateers. It's just an honest opinion. Elsa thought to herself ruefully, although the woman's acknowledgement had made her feel unusually warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks to her newfound lease inside this hectic party environment, the disguised Queen stood a little straighter and swelled with pride; she had just managed a troublesome situation, and it was only going to get better from here. As of this moment, she could take on anything life throws at her.

Of course, this thought had only a few seconds to settle inside Elsa's head when something actually did throw itself at her: An entire person in fact, who now wrapped his arms around the cloaked lady as if his life depended on it. "E-Els... You're all right!" he sobbed, smelling like a suspicious blend of unwashed clothing and alcohol. Elsa could feel something distinctly warm and wet spread on her shoulders, and the body hugging her shook with regular choking sounds.

The corsair captain stood above the two with a raised eyebrow, and flicked a finger at the older man's direction. "Is this guy bothering you?" he asked. "He looks easy enough to play ball with. You know, with him being the ball."

"No, not at all!" Elsa hastily exclaimed. She raised a hand to gently pat a somewhat delirious Frode on the back. "He's a friend."

Although perplexed, the captain was evidently satisfied with her answer; he shrugged and walked away by himself, mentioning something about leaving the random vagrant in her care.

"You had no idea..." the aspiring writer sniffled, adjusting his glasses as he separated himself from Elsa. "W-When you just ran off li-like that... I tried running a-after you, but you just disappeared! I tried calling out for the guards for help, but they just told me to stay put while they go investigate! I couldn't even tell them which direction where you were headed, and... I wasn't sure if I was supposed to tell them the-" he paused. "Well, you know."

Elsa sighed, and elbowed him in the arm affectionately. "That's enough worrying, Frode. Everything turned out just fine in the end." To prove her point, she stuck a hand into the pocket of her borrowed vest, and pulled out the little banded sack between her fingers, jingling the coins within with a smile. "You know, I don't think I have the stomach to eat anything right now... but I guess I could still go for a drink."

Frode blinked rapidly at the wallet in Elsa's hands, disbelief and amazement running their courses through his eyes in equal measure. Once he fully processed the situation though, he quietly pocketed his wallet with a bearded smile. Wiping his eyes dry with a thumb, he flicked his chin towards a large wooden structure at the back of the tavern, stocked with bottles and empty glass cups that glimmered in the yellow light. "I could use another drink myself anyway, what with all the craziness that's been going on." he muttered. "Come, the bar is just right there."

Together, the two friends caught up with Peter Himmel, who sat himself on a bar stool with a mug on hand. The captain raised his glass up to the two with a grin, and clicked his tongue to summon a rather heavyset and dour man on the other side of the counter.

It suddenly occurred to Elsa that she'd never seen an actual bartender before, unless if she counted the servants inside the Royal Palace providing the occasional glass of wine. Not that the observation mattered too much, since Frode was talking to him in her stead, but it was just something interesting to think about.

"...Right then, sir." the bartender said. "What would you like to order?"

"I think I'll have another beer, a grilled salmon sandwich, and uh..." Frode glanced back at Elsa. "What do you want me to order, Elizabeth?"

She mentioned earlier that she would have just wanted some water, but the cloaked lady frowned upon reflection. "I think I'll just have a glass of milk." she answered instead.

This only made the bartender stop and stare blankly at her, the corners of his mouth pulled downwards as if he was trying to determine whether or not the cloaked lady was pulling his leg in jest. So did Frode and Peter Himmel for that matter; they too were intrigued by Elsa's choice. The overall effect was like having three statues focusing intently on the disguised Queen, which was not the least bit disconcerting to her. Nope, not at all.

"I-Is that a problem?" she asked, feeling her ears heating up and itch uncontrollably.

Finally, the bartender broke away from his discomforting gaze without a comment, pulling out two glasses of different sizes from below the counter. "...Milk is I've got." he grunted to the cloaked lady. "Wait here."

The captain sipped his beer in contemplation as he watched the large man slip behind a closet door. "That was quite a missed opportunity there, but whatever. Are you sure you don't want me to credit you properly for the capture?"

Already, Elsa began to imagine just how well that sort of situation would have fared. She shook her head.

"...I see. Well then, why don't you two just seat yourselves and enjoy?" Peter Himmel stood up from his stool, raising his arms up high to stretch with a yawn. "I've got some business to deal with my folks."

"Oh... alright then." Elsa replied; she felt incredibly grateful that this privateer had proved himself to be a man of his word. "Thank you for everything, Mister Himmel!" Both she and her bespectacled friend Frode sat down on the bar stools, their eyes following the captain as he waved backwards lazily and vanished into the jovial horde.

Now that no one else was around to possibly eavesdrop, Elsa turned to the vagrant, her blue eyes intent and urgent. "Frode have you seen Olaf the Snowman anywhere nearby? I really, really need to speak with him."

The aged man was slightly intimidated by her sudden shift in demeanor, but he nodded. "He won't be here for another ten minutes. Just relax, I hear that he always arrive on time."

Elsa sighed. "Alright, then. As long as this is the only place I am guaranteed to meet him..." she glanced backward at the jostling crewmates, "I guess it's better that I stay."

The two only had to wait for mere moments before the bartender returned with a plate and tin pitcher on hand. Elsa gratefully accepted her order with a smile, which seemed to improve the man's mood just microscopically. However, she couldn't help but notice Frode was a bit more stand-offish; his brows were furrowed, and his green eyes were more focused on the different people dancing and singing past him than his own food. "Is something the matter?" she asked, taking a sip.

"...It's nothing really, I just find it strange that you of all people wouldn't drink alcohol. I've kinda forgotten that you are still in some aspects barely an adult." Frode mumbled, his eyes continuing to shift all around the tavern. "Aren't you in disguise, after all? Doesn't that technically give you a free pass?"

Elsa let the milk settle in her mouth as she considered her answer, staring straight forward at the variations of alcohol and colorful blends placed in full view for one's choosing. "I don't think I'm in a good position to be touching that stuff, in all honesty." she finally whispered back. "No one would really want a Queen of Ice and Snow running an entire country if she's one wineglass too tipsy."

Or if she is about to prevent an unfathomable horror from destroying all of Arendelle.

Elsa grimaced. Ugh, not this again...

Frode snorted in amusement, although it was a half-hearted effort that made Elsa suspect a divided focus. "I was about to say something about royalty and booze... but then you had to remind me about the ice bit." He drank from his mug, and tapped a spot on the counter-top nearby Elsa's hands with a gnarled finger. "By the way, Elizabeth, I couldn't help but notice that you seem to have your, ah, little problem under control."

Elsa blinked, and she suddenly stared at her own hands with interest. "You're right..." she muttered, her eyes widening in realization, "this entire day, not even once had I ever used my magic by accident!" She tapped her glass repeatedly, absolutely gleeful when she had absolutely no effect on it. Then, the Snow Queen glanced from side to side, making sure no one except Frode could be paying attention, and touched her drink once more, this time infusing some mental effort on her finger; the milk immediately froze over as a perfectly solid, slightly off-white mass. Elsa giggled softly to herself at the sight, and quickly restored it to normal with a wave of her hand. "I don't know how," she jabbered excitedly, "maybe it's from a lack of nervousness or something, but it's just so easy now! Oh, if only Anna and the others could see this! Look, Frode!...

"...Frode?"

Instead of answering back, the older man was now shivering, as pasty-faced as if he was suffering hypothermia, staring down hard at his mug as if directing his eyes anywhere else will risk him his life. For a second, Elsa thought he had been served a bad batch of beer, or perhaps his sandwich had spoiled goods inside.

"Hey... is something the matter, Frode?" she asked more urgently, patting him hard on the back.

The old man flicked his tongue over his dried lips. He tried to look stable and calm, but his shakiness and blood-drained skin was too difficult to ignore. "Th-these guys... don't you recognize any of them?"

Elsa glanced backwards at the crowd. She saw smiling faces of all shapes and sizes actively chattering to each other about mundane topics, such as how there won't be a storm anytime soon despite the chilly summer day and heavy clouds looming overhead, or how the food in the Cuddly Buck ranged from excellent all the way down to barely edible sludge, while their captain tried his hardest to hold a group meeting and make announcements with little success. "Do you?" the disguised Queen asked in confusion, listening the band as the piano playing in the distant sounded increasingly disordered and sloppy.

Frode's voice became incredibly hushed as he leaned closer to Elsa, the smell of clothes becoming a little more distinct much to her discomfort. "Look, I've traveled far and wide, seeing a whole variety of people here and there." He swallowed. "These men and women... until today, the only times I've ever seen them were on wanted posters! Thieves, pillager, mercenaries, battle-hardened veterans... how on Earth did they gather into a single spot without this entire town turning into a warzone!?"

Elsa swallowed, and scrunched up her nose in conflict; she should have expected as much from the moment she realized Peter Himmel was a familiar name. Hiring privateers was one of the more morally grey aspects of her career as Queen, because while they could be invaluable as part of the military force for a kingdom as small as Arendelle, the absolute worst of the bunch could be little more than real pirates backed by government protection. This group in particular was already far more boisterous than she would have tolerated inside her castle.

So if what Frode said was true, something of which she had little doubt, what was keeping this Cuddly Buck tavern from blowing apart like a lit powder keg? There wasn't even a single broken chair, no shattered pieces of china in sight. In fact, the members she had interacted with have been nothing but downright pleasant with her, a complete stranger who just walked in without revealing her status as an authority figure. "Maybe they are just managed very well under good leadership..." Elsa wondered aloud to Frode. "Of course, they could all just be owing each other favors, or perhaps... they just became very good friends?"

Frode shook his head. "I can't be too sure-"

"But of course!" boomed a thunderous voice, ringing clear and strong above the mayhem and band music like the sound of bass drums. "First Mate He XiongQiang, at your service!"

Elsa snapped her head towards the sound's source, and immediately regretted this action as she refrained her hardest from spitting her milk out: towering over her was a some... thing that resembled less like a man, and more like a rhinoceros who had learned to walk on two legs. More importantly however, or perhaps more disturbingly, was the fact that he was completely shirtless: The disguised Queen couldn't help but not ignore the great big thing jutting out from his body, a massive gut that can't be properly defined as fat or muscle, but slabs upon slabs of flesh that somehow maintained a solid rock-like appearance, even as it... jiggled. In an attempt to divert her view elsewhere and spare her appetite, Elsa craned her neck all the way up, and found herself staring back at a grinning man with suntanned cheeks, a thick and muscular tree trunk-like neck, clearly Oriental features decorating his face, and a gray peach fuzz haircut not seen very often in countries like Norway.

"Indeed, you are correct about my comrades' former statuses, fellow elder!" XiongQiang boomed once more. His figure of speech was a little disjointed and overly complicated, like he had spent years learning the language only from a dictionary. Even so, he sounded as genial as the quivering of his chin and gut. "However, just like what this beautiful young lady had said earlier, it is thanks to our captain and our bonds of friendship that men and women like us could find honest work, without feeling chained down by the confines of society! Have a view for yourself, you two!" Proudly, he stretched a vast and scarred arm sculpted down to its sinewy contours out to the crowd, subjecting the uncomfortable Queen to further angles of his bulging mass.

"You could use less exclamation points..." Elsa murmured, turning her head around obediently to where the giant pointed: her blue eyes fell upon the Quill Privateers once more, who now actually sat or stood attentively without fidgeting as they listened to their captain.

"...Now that 'Sticky Hand' is finally within our hands, I think we can have enough money to make some much needed repairs to the Quill, stock up on better food, purchase more equipment, all that good stuff." Peter Himmel announced, continuing off a speech Elsa didn't bother paying attention to earlier. "But of course, everyone knows it's the paychecks we're really thinking about, am I right?"

The air rumbled as heads in the crowd turned to each other and spoke in agreement.

"Of course I am." the captain proceeded, smiling merrily. "That is why we'll be splitting the rest of the bounty ninety-to-ten as usual: ninety percent to me because I'm your magnificent and diligent head of the crew, and ten percent to the rest of you folks to split among yourselves, for being my working mules-"

His voice was drowned out by a wave of angry boos and jeers; crewmates began pelting food at him with gusto, one even throwing a whole plump tomato that landed its target squarely with a hearty smack. Red pulpy juice ran down the side of Peter Himmel's head, which only compounded the ridiculous image he was now putting up as a walking garbage disposal. "Hey! That's perfectly good produce you were using as ammunition!" he scolded, plucking the red fruit from its impact site and taking a big bite out of it. "You guys can't take a joke at times, it seems- whoa!"

"...Yeah, he sure does seem like quite the leader, doesn't he?" Elsa remarked with a slight smirk, as Peter Himmel was converted into the rope of a massive, four-way tug of war.

XiongQiang chuckled softly, a first for the big man since he introduced himself. "I can tell from the dry sound of your sarcasm that you don't believe me now, but I was telling the truth when I said we all owe him a great debt for what he has given us-"

"I'm pretty sure you're talking about the opposite- hey watch the arm!" The captain called out in interruption, overhearing XiongQiang's part of the conversation. "Remember when we first met back at that Chinese Junk, X? With the execution by cannon fire?"

The heavy man merely nodded in acknowledgement. "How is it possible for me to forget the day I quit my previous job, Mister Himmel?" He leaned closer to Elsa and Frode, jabbing a thumb back at the uproarious crowd. "Working as a privateer in the West has advantages, but it does force elder people like to me to make certain this overgrown child does not get himself in trouble." he muttered.

"You're not even trying to hide that voice!" Peter Himmel complained. "You'd think all that blubber wrapped around your chest and neck would have tightened your vocal chords and give you less air to speak through- ah! Did I just hear a tear? That was definitely a tear, a ripping noise at my shoulder! I think my limbs are literally coming apart at the seams, gah!"

The First Mate shook his head in disapproval, a motion which caused his entire body to wobble again for the viewer's displeasure. "Alright, alright Mister Himmel, it looks like I have to save your body once more! I'm arriving, so just hang in there!"

"Oh, ha-ha X! That's freaking clever!" the captain sarcastically retorted over the music, whose piano accompaniment became increasingly drunken, loose in rhythm, and rather discordant. It reminded Elsa of Anna's occasional, half-baked attempts to teach herself to play like her older sister.

Anna...

"Excuse me, Mister Xiong!" Elsa called out to the massive corsair. "Have you seen Olaf the Snowman anywhere nearby?"

The First Mate slowed his course to glance down at her curiously, and raised a single finger up for her to see. "Firstly, I would like to correct you that my proper first name is XiongQiang. You may refer to me as Mister He, if you'd like." He raised another finger. "Secondly, you are referring to the snow creature that was rumored to walk and talk like a normal human, right? He should be here any minute now-"

A heavy thwump, followed by a wave of surprised yelps and sounds of scraping table legs, busted into the middle of his words, prompting XiongQiang to immediately rush over to investigate.

"It's alright, it's alright!" One of the crew members shouted, holding his arms out to clear a space around him. He stood over a body that lied face-down on the wooden floor, his limbs sprawling in odd angles. "It's just our piano player. Seems to me like he just passed out."

"What, from the booze, or the heaping pile of sweets next to him?" Peter Himmel asked, finally back on his feet and nursing the joints of his arms.

"A little bit from column A, a little bit from column B. He's out cold though, don't think he'll be coming back to us in another hour or so."

Elsa's face flushed; she could distinctly feel a pair of sharp eyes burning into Elsa's back, sending chills and a rash of instinctive itches. However, no one ever said anything, or mentioned her alias, or anything else that could have put her under the spotlight. Eventually, the crowd just decided to move on without a piano player, albeit with some disappointed reluctance. The music felt just a touch hollow, a touch incomplete.

Why don't you give it a try, Elsa?

I... I can't. This was more than enough. I don't know if I can go on any further...

...Typical.

bang bang bang

The sound echoed in the back of Elsa's mind, and she lifted her head up to look left and right, wondering just what could the sound be. On second thought though, she might have only been hearing things; not one other person inside the pub gave as much as a reaction, proceeding with their chatter as uninterrupted. Frode in particular just stared at her in the midst of eating his sandwich, like if she'd just missed a few working screws from her head.

bang bang bang

Elsa rubbernecked in all directions once again, and this time she wasn't alone; people here and there in the crowd began to stop and quiet themselves, quickly bringing down the general volume and atmosphere at an alarmingly fast rate. Within seconds, only the horns and the strings of the band players continued to fill the air with noise.

bang bang bang

For what felt like an minute of relative silence, no one did anything but stare at the knocking door. Slowly, one of the crew members raised himself from his position, silently volunteering himself to investigate. Step by step, he trudged across the curious onlookers to one of the windows installed on the side, and tilted his patched tricorn hat to peek through the glass.

"Well?" One of the corsairs asked. "Who is it?"

The man only looked back to his fellow comrades with a rather nonplussed expression, and paced for the door with his hand outstretched towards the brass handle. He gave his crew one last strange look, and swung the door open to reveal the depressingly grey and bleak city scenery outside... and a single, white silhouette. The entire tavern gawked as this lone figure waddled in, barely even half as tall as an average man even if one registered his little tuft of faux hair to his height. Above him, a miniature cloud with a will of its own sprinkled snowflakes everywhere, coating its surroundings with very fine powder.

The creature giggled in earnest, and tilted his head curiously to the crowd as if he was wondering why everyone seemed so stunned. "Hiya guys! I don't know any of you beforehand, so let's make quick introductions first!" he bowed grandly, a gesture that nearly detached his head from the neck up. "I'm Olaf, and I love warm hugs! Now let's get this started, I'm on a tight schedule!"

Like all of the other people who leapt to their feet and clamored to greet Olaf with open arms, Elsa sucked in a harsh breath as she rose to do the same. Almost immediately however, she settled back onto her seat, and stared hard at her half-empty glass of milk.

...What are you doing?

Elsa glanced to her right at her wizened friend, whose green eyes flicked at her with the same question in his mind. Frode was able to figure out who I was with a single glance, after a single day of being friends. Who am I to pretend that Olaf wouldn't be able to spot me from the other side of this tavern?

Elsa could almost feel herself pull into an exasperated pout. What reason would you have to care? You're just here to grab him and find the rest of your family, right?

Elsa jerked her head backwards, noting that Olaf gladly shook hands and exchanging greetings with former convicts and hired guns, the kind of people that made him look severely out of place both physically and temperamentally. They accepted him with all the affection one would give to an idol, and some even tried bobbing the flurry cloud to test its tangibility, much to the snowman's amusement. You know, why on Earth am I talking to myself so often? I think I might actually be going psychotic-

Ah. Olaf, he... he's sitting next to me... Great.

"Oh, thank you for the warm reception guys! Just gimme a bit to warm up, I'll get to you soon!" The little golem piped. "It's a real shame about the piano guy, by the way!" Olaf spun on his seat to face the bartender standing behind the counter, and raised a twig hand to call him up. "I'll have my usual, please."

Elsa eyes widened in surprise. The usual? Olaf... drinks? How is that supposed to work? Can he even drink? Does he just, I don't know, pour it on top of himself, like a spiked snow cone? Of course, the number of questions were only raised when the bartender briefly nodded, and pulled out from beneath the counter... a candlestick. The type that would have been used as a simple reading light in darkened evenings and lonely gatherings. Olaf clapped his stick hands together happily, and stood up on his barstool to lean closer to it, his hands held out to feel its warmth.

There was no time to delay any further; she might as well get started now. Using her elbow, Elsa nudged the snowman in the side. "Pst. Over here." she whispered.

The snowman idly glanced sideways, and his mouth snapped open; at the breakneck speed it fell, Elsa initially thought he was going to lose his upper chin again. "Els-!"

Before he could utter another syllable, Olaf was silenced with a swift fist to the mouth, courtesy of the disguised Queen. As he flailed his stick arms and mumbled something incoherent out of confusion, Elsa desperately raised a finger up to her lips with her other hand, forming a shushing gesture in the hopes that he would understand. Much to Elsa's intense relief, Olaf froze for a couple seconds before finally nodding, as if in comprehension. Elsa sighed, and she gently pulled her hand out of his mouth to give the little guy some time to recover.

Upon his liberation, the snowman proceeded to cough and pat on his chest repeatedly to properly intake air, in spite of a glaring lack of working lungs, or even an airway for that matter. "So anyway," he gasped, "what's with the black hair and the cool get-up, Elsa-"

Once again, Elsa's fist greeted the back of Olaf's throat to cancel out his speech, while her icy blue eyes gave him a very cross look. "Don't mention my name... please." Elsa whispered, nervously glancing sideways to the rest of the blissfully ignorant tavern.

The snowman blinked twice without moving, and then finally mumbled a long, muffled sound that could have been a drawn-out "Oh!" in revelation; finally, Olaf was able to process Elsa's intentions through that white noggin of his. For the last time, the cloaked lady relieved him of her hand, upon which the snowman smacked his mouth experimentally to test its remaining functions. "Alright, alright, I get it... I think." Olaf said, in as serious a tone as he could manage. "What are you doing here at the Cuddly Buck tavern anyway? Anna and Kristoff had been combing the town looking for you, but neither would have guessed that you'd be found in a bar!"

Elsa was about to hotly retort, but then found herself mulling over her family's logic - only a second of consideration was enough to merit Olaf a begrudging nod of admittance. Indeed, the disguised Queen still found her current situation and journey almost too incredible to believe herself.

Of course, that self-note did little to explain a certain snow creature's presence in this pub, in a very energetic and wild environment that would have subjected him to things like careless boot stamps, or likely drunken, belligerent patrons. Elsa couldn't just let Olaf hurt himself that way, she cared too much to let this simply slide: So, the cloaked lady looked at Olaf in the eye, and asked, "What about you? What reasons do you have for staying here?"

The snowman's face twisted into a comically severe frown, and he scratched at his snowy cranium with a twig-like finger. "Well... it all started three weeks ago when I got bored with staying inside the castle. On that day, I decided to go for a little walk outside of the castle walls without telling Anna or Sven first. Being summer and all, the air very was warm, which was totally great by the way, so I first decided to go to the market and find out if I can teach myself to grow apples out of my hands-"

"Hey Olaf! You ready yet?" One of the pub-goers yelled cheerfully.

"Just a second! Olaf replied back, before returning his attention back to Elsa. "Um... where was I, again?" he asked perplexedly. "I was at the part where I was learning to crochet, right?"

This is taking us nowhere at all. "Perhaps you should just keep it nice and short?" Elsa helpfully suggested.

The golem nodded. "Oh, okay then! Nice and short, nice and short..." he muttered. Then, his face brightened with the light of inspiration, and he bubbled with glee as he recounted his tale: "I walked into this bar one day, sang and danced, and have been doing the same thing each day ever since. That's... that's pretty much it."

"That's really the whole story?"

"Yep!" The snowman paused. "Come to think of it, do you mind waiting a bit until I'm done? I promised that I'd hang out with them before we go."

"Olaf... are you sure we can even spare time for something like this?" Elsa whispered.

"Well..." Olaf looked back at the group of privateers, his voice growing sober. "I made a promise. Believe it or not, a lot of people are not as happy as they would like to be. Especially in places with all of that alcohol." he explained. "Lots of people come here to have fun and all, but I keep seeing guys here and there with these "fake smiles," you know? Like they are hurting pretty badly inside? It makes one want to help out and give them something to be happy about." The little snowman dipped his chin bashfully, and he began fidgeting with his twiggy fingers. "For me, I want to feel like I've had a positive impact on others, like I'm doing something meaningful..."

Elsa could hardly believe what she was hearing; Olaf's previously cheerful words were now weighed down with something strikingly profound, even sad. "...But you're a great person, Olaf! You keep people like me smiling every day!"

The snowman giggled happily, reverting back to his usual mood and demeanor within a heartbeat. "That's very true, but it never hurts to do a little more, right? I know we need time, but let me indulge in this habit before we go slay a demon, save the kingdom, whatever we're doing..."

Olaf's voice trailed away as his gaze parted from the cloaked lady, and onto the jaunty group playing in the other side of the room, and. Suddenly, he gasped. "Oh, Els-..." he began, his mouth hanging open as Elsa rather pointedly gazed at him. Without skipping a beat, he pushed on by saying, "We don't have a piano accompaniment as of the moment! Why don't you help me and fill in?"

Elsa's heart rate screeched to a stop, and her blood ran as cold as the ice in Arendelle's high mountains. "Oh no, oh nonono-"

"Did somebody say they can play the piano?!" boomed a thunderous and mighty voice. A series of heavy steps that shook the ground at regular intervals gave rise to Mister He the behemoth, and Elsa slapped herself in the forehead in morbid embarrassment. "Is what I just heard the truth, little snowman?"

Mister He being the walking loudspeaker he was, the entire tavern overheard, bursting into cheer and cacophonic applause which caused Elsa to shrink as far back as her bar stool allowed. She would have just blindly pedaled her feet to the door out of the Cuddly Buck, if it weren't for the fact that there were just so many people preventing her from seeing an exit route. "Please!" she protested weakly. "I don't know if I can-"

"Step up over here, don't be shy!"

"Come on, you can do it!"

"Step up and show us what you got!"

"Why isn't she standing up?"

If this was just her family shouting words of encouragement to her, then it was entirely possible that Elsa would have accepted. She loved them, had her absolute trust in them. They understood how Elsa felt, how not to overstep their limits... but none of these privateers were aware of that. No, they just probably saw a cloaked lady who deliberately ignored them, someone who they would interpret as rude for not being receptive, but she can't do anything about it: She tried again and again to speak her denial, but the crew's many eager faces paralyzed her on the spot, tightening her throat. Their voices were starting to escalate, the words are jumbling together into an incomprehensible mess, Elsa didn't know how much longer she could take-

"QUIET!"

The voice was like a gunshot in the midst of all this chaos, with the added bonus of having the same effect; the entire pub was rendered silent instantaneously, ushering in an atmosphere that had likely never showed its face since the Cuddly Buck's establishment. Elsa turned her head to the source, and choked in amazement; Frode stood defiantly against the crowd, in spite of his frail frame and generally diminutive demeanor. His chest rose and fell as he panted for air, and a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. Under the curious gaze of onlookers though, his little outburst was quickly snuffed, and the little man sat himself back on his chair with quivering hands and shoulders.

"Well said, old timer..." someone said with a sigh. Peter Himmel emerged from the masses to stand next to Frode, patting the stunned vagrant on the shoulder. The captain turned on his leather heels to his crew members, and declared, "These two are my guests. I am not going to tolerate anyone forcing them into situations they are not comfortable with." He rested another hand on Elsa's shoulder. "If Ellie chooses not to play with us, then we must respect her decision without further question. Understood?"

The whole crew groaned, but they obediently slinked away back to their original spots. The music restarted itself, people moved on to different discussion topics, and bit by bit, the Cuddly Buck tavern was restored to its default environment. Peter Himmel jerked his chin in approval, and lightly jabbed Mister He's side with an elbow. The giant of a man solemnly nodded back in agreement, and turned to the cloaked lady sitting before him. "Forgive me and my friends, we often forget simple things and can be quite rude at times-"

"It's nothing." Elsa replied, cutting Mister He's apology short. "Thank you for your concern."

The two privateers looked somewhat taken aback by the snippy response, maybe even slightly miffed, but they grunted in confirmation. "We'll be waiting for you, Mister Olaf." With that said, the two turned around to rejoin their friends in the celebration.

"...Uh, alright, guys!" Olaf called out, snuffing out the candlelight by pinching it with his fingers. The act naturally caused the wood of his hand to smoke, but the snowman quickly solved the issue by sticking it into his chest. That wasn't any of the golem's concern though; he faced his creator, his hands brought together nervously as he debated on what to say next. "...You sure you don't want to come along?"

"No!" Elsa said reflexively. Then she paused, and stared down at her glass; the milk inside had froze over as a prelude to an anxious breakdown, and was even expanding its way out of the cup. It was a miracle that no one, not even the bartender standing nearby, had noticed. "I mean, not really, but... I know I can, but... It's kind of complicated, Olaf. Just go and have fun already."

"Well, why not?" Olaf asked innocently, a smile widening on his goofy face. "Come on Elsa, it could be like a bonding exercise! Just between the two of us, something real special that we could look back to!"

Elsa snorted. "Sure, if dying of embarrassment is something to remember fondly."

"But... remember three weeks ago when we celebrated your return home?" Olaf asked, scratching his head to rake at his memories. "Remember how you gave everyone that magic snowfall and ice-skating rink? I don't know if you had ever done it before, but I'm sure you love to make people smile, in this case a whole kingdom."

Elsa didn't say anything.

Olaf looked slightly puzzled from her lack of response, but remained ever so genial. "Okay, I get it!" He chirped. "It would have been a lot more fun for you and everyone else if this was back at the castle." He hopped off his bar stool, and skipped his way to the joyous and applauding bunch that was the Andersen's Quill Privateers, already working up a jig with his little feet. "Just wait there, I know you and the others have to get ready!" he cried.

As Elsa watched the little golem spin around on his torso while piping notes at the top of his lungs, hand in hand with men and women who she suspected may have never built a snowman themselves, Olaf's question remained glued to the back of her mind with a strange persistence; to be honest, she was still deathly afraid of even thinking about performing with him, but... he was right about how she felt three weeks ago. Maybe she was a bit vain for it, but she actually enjoy showing off her talents, to have others appreciate and smile because she was around. Her family was an obvious choice, but was it worth putting herself in the limelight with complete strangers, the focus of their attention? Was it still worth saying no?

Elsa suddenly got an idea; the cloaked lady turned to Frode, the nearest person she cared for who had spent years living a journey and accumulating experiences, good and bad, within his own life. "...Should I join them?" she asked, hoping he could help; if anyone knew best at teaching others the lessons he'd learned to avoid lifelong regrets, it would be him.

Frode blinked in surprise. "I thought you already said no-" he coughed, "nevermind,.. I get it."

I'm sorry..." Elsa whispered.

"Don't be, this may actually be of use to the both of us." He stared down, swishing the half-drunk beer inside as his mind spun like clockwork. Finally coming to a solution, he faced Elsa seriously, his bright green eyes becoming incredibly focused. "I know you are conflicted and all, so I'll try to ease you into a good decision. Understood?"

Elsa nodded.

"Do you have to do it?"

That question was obvious enough. "No."

"Do you have the time to spare for it?"

Elsa stared pensively at a spot on the counter-top. "Olaf is not going to leave until he's done, so... it wouldn't matter if I say yes or no."

Frode nodded. "Okay then... well, what could you possibly gain if you said yes?"

The answer came instantly to the cloaked lady. "I might start panicking in front of everyone, I might play horribly to their tastes, the others would lose what respect they held for me-"

Frode waved his hand dismissively at her with a scowl. "No no, that's not what I meant at all. Think of something positive that you may gain from this experience. If this is just going to be some random activity, then there's no point for even debating this to yourself."

Elsa's eyes flew open. That was the moment when she realized something incredible: playing piano for a bunch of ex-pirates while in disguise with a talking snowman? Everyone back home would practically suffer a heart attack out of sheer shock! Anna would probably never shut up about it, and maybe Elsa could be one step closer to the big sister that the Princess always deserved...

"...I don't have to do something like this again, do I?"

Frode shrugged. "Why are you asking me? Aren't you the one calling the shots?"

Elsa understood; slowly, she stood up from her seat and excused herself to both Frode and the bartender, who both nodded with silent wishes of good luck. She felt almost dreamlike as she walked, pacing her feet across the wooden floor step by step, gently pushing strangers aside until the mass gave way to an open space where the band's instruments gleamed. At the very center was a well-worn but sturdy upright piano, where Olaf sat and sang animatedly with the other players. Ignoring the wave of hushes running its course through the audience, she sat down next to the snowman, and stared straight ahead at the piano stand without a word.

A twig hand lightly tapped her on the shoulder, so Elsa turned around to see a smiling Olaf leaning closer, until he wrapped his arms around her in an embrace. Shyly but instinctively, the cloaked lady returned the favor, feeling the little creature snuggle closer against her. It was comforting, secure, genuinely therapeutic to hold somebody between her arms, even if said person was decidedly inhuman; the troubles and strife that she had experienced all day felt faint and nonexistent now, like they were only a series of bad dreams that she now recently awoke from.

"There there..." Olaf whispered, patting her on the back. "Don't worry about those guys saying 'aww', they're just being really nice people who want the same."

"...I've missed you." Elsa mumbled, squeezing even tighter.

"Shh, It's good to see you again, too." he replied. "Take your time, just tell me when you're ready, alright?"

Elsa was about to go blind out of rising tears; the sudden relief was almost too overwhelming for her. As a result, she squeezed her eyes shut to compensate, and buried her face deeper into Olaf's shoulder. Seconds ticked by in bliss before she finally released her hold from the snowman, and settled herself comfortably on the piano seat. Someone had placed a music score during the hug session, which looked simple enough for the disguised Queen... except for entire lines of empty bars marked solely with the word "IMPROV".

"Oh, that just mean you string random notes together to the scale and rhythm of the music." Captain Himmel spoke out by the side, noting Elsa's puzzled expression. "Do you need a tutorial or something? X can at least teach you the beat to play to, or..."

Elsa blinked, and shook her head hesitantly. "I think I can manage."

"Fantastic!" Olaf cried out loud, clapping his hands together in glee. "Alright guys, let's play one last song for the day! Go for Dargason!"

The entire tavern burst into uproarious cheers and applause, which somehow didn't prevent Elsa from hearing the clarinet player beginning immediately. Soon, others joined in with steady puffs of air through their horns, swaying side to side with smiles peeking from behind their mouthpieces. Quickly realizing that she was late, she fumbled a little with the piano keys before entering at the same measure as the rest, keeping her hands and fingers as light as the steps of a cheery folk dance.

Overall, everything was coming along quite nicely; the music had a kind of beat that made it difficult not to tap one's feet to, and Elsa even managed to have fun with the improvised parts by playing up and down the F scale. Men and women clapped along at a moderately fast tempo, and smiles were everywhere as far as Elsa's peripheral vision could see.

Then, the Captain and First Mate approached with baritone and tuba respectively on hand. As the sound of tambourines colored the background, they sat down with the rest of the players. Then, Peter Himmel winked mischievously at both the snowman and the cloaked lady as he sucked in a breath, before shouting, "Everyone... to Greensleeves!"

Beyond the night, a storm ahead
dark, uproarious
cold, and furious

Thunder crashing through the air
Shades, they steal my breath
Winds howl for my death

Must I try, there's no escape
Oh, I can't forget
All my past regrets

Tempest waves crash into me
drag me down the deep
bring eternal sleep

Hoo-rah... Hoo-rah...

So grit your teeth, you must fight fate!
Just keep on moving, cause you still are

Free!
Still Free! (Ahahahaha!)

Hoist your sails, load up the cannonballs
Draw your sword, stomp, and stand up tall,
Set your sights, grab your comrades
Let out a great HURRAH!

Pains are searing, backbones breaking, feet are burning, muscles tearing...
Why keep struggling, there's no ending! Forfeit! Stand down!
Heel! Kneel! Bend! Bow!

Just turn! (Hah!) Around! (Hurrah!)
Run!(Hah!) See!(Yah!) Learn!(Rah!) Dream!(Sing with us, Ellie!)

Because I've got you standing by me
I feel I can finally walk free

Yes, it's true
Who knows how long I can keep alive, and yet be without you?

Come, friends! Join us in celebration, we will be stronger than nations!
Forget the storm, I know so long as you stay by my side
Everything will be right...

Ha ah-ah ah... Paradise yonder!

Ooh...

Hmm...

HURRAH!

Upon the song's completion, the whole Cuddly Buck tavern erupted into thunderous applause; pub-goers shook the nearest people their arms could reach in jubilant celebration without discernment. In Elsa's case, she had been grabbed by Peter Himmel, who proudly rubbed his knuckles into her bonnet in an amicable noogie. Unfortunately, this act caused the headdress to go horribly askew, until it was almost completely displaced from the cloaked lady's head. The captain stiffened, and yelled about something to do with black dye and white hair-

Elsa's blue eyes widened in alarm; she has just been discovered. Beginning from where her hand came in contact with the keys, the piano blossomed into a coat of rime decorated with frost petals, sending chills across the entire room. Snowflakes scattered everywhere like minuscule shrapnel, coating many a random onlooker's eyebrows with glittering powder. Some of the warm and cozy air of the pub's interior was replaced by the bite of winter's chill, sending shivers among the crowds.

Not even pausing to look back, the disguised Snow Queen tore herself away from the stunned corsair and grabbed Olaf tightly by the hand, lifting his rump right out into the air as she bolted for the front door, and out into the graying landscape of the Arendelle afternoon.

Remember to compliment a person, any random person, each and every day. Some may seem to ignore you, others may seem to just deflect your praise, but trust me when I say that they could still hear you, and that you could instantly brighten their day simply by paying attention.

Don't forget to drop a comment or two, like letting me know if this chapter was worth the wait.

See you guys soon, fans of Frozen.