ELLIOTT

The next morning there was a nervous buzz in the air.

Or at least, that's what Elliott thought. It was the kind of anxious energy children had before a teacher in a classroom. In this particular scenario Madeleine, Helena and himself were the nervous children and Astrid was the scowling teacher.

The Queen of the Southern Isles looked grumpier than usual. But there was no bloody murder written on her face— yet— so Elliott figured both sisters had kept quiet about their betrayal. Which, hey— was really good! The longer they kept their mouth shuts, the better.

Elliott had invited them for breakfast in one of the smaller chambers, making a point of telling them Andy had been shipped off to the kingdom of Corona because of his lousy behavior last night. At least Astrid believed that; the red-headed prince was nowhere to be found— but Elliott knew his brother was at the dock at this very moment, meeting with Brandon… if Brandon had made it. If not, they were to take a small ship and leave unnoticed. The North Wind he had trapped for them in a bag would make the journey a lot faster.

"Lady Madeleine— butter?" one of the staff asked.

The princess' knee bumped against the table, completely startled. Elliott had noticed she'd been acting a bit paranoid this morning— and with good reason. The girl couldn't even meet Astrid's eyes, and Elliott couldn't stop wondering about the lone scar on her face.

"Y-Yes. Thank you." Madeleine mumbled something else before she started spreading the butter on a piece of bread. Their little circle of four people was charged with— as usual— tension. Only Andy's angry energy was missing from the table.

"You're awfully jumpy today, sweet sister," Astrid noted, folding her hands beneath her chin. Elliott's teeth ground together. So Astrid had noticed, too. "Something the matter? Are you unwell?"

For a split second, Maddy's mouth hung open, like a fish. Her lips seemed to want to work out words but could not. Sweat gathered at the back of Elliott's neck, cold and haunting. What if she cracked?

"You can tell me anything," Astrid's smile stretched, forced and ugly. She even took Maddy's hand in hers as if to squeeze a reply out of her.

"I—"

"It's the Josef thing you told me about, isn't it?" Helena swooped in, perfectly fake smile on her face. She turned quickly to Elliott, "Josef is Maddy's husband."

"What thing?" Astrid looked annoyed that Maddy hadn't been the one to answer.

Without a care for her older sister, Helena replied again, "The pregnant thing! She missed her last moon."

Astrid wrinkled her nose, as did Elliott. It had been a really good save, but not the mental image he wished to have during breakfast. Maddy shot her younger sister a thank-you look and continued the lie, "I don't want to get his hopes up. I've been late in the past and—"

The queen waved her hand dismissively, "Yes, yes, keep your private life private, if you will."

And just like that, Elliott could breathe again— well, almost. He still drove himself sick with worry over Andy. He hadn't been the biggest fan of their solo mission to the Southern Isles, but it was their best and probably only chance of striking back Astrid where it hurt. Even with knowing that his brother had the help of Pabbie's magic, Krista, as well as Brandon the 'professional' thief, Elliott still felt like had a giant ball of lead stuck on his throat all the time.

"Oh, Elliott— I hope you don't mind, but I've put your manservant to good use," Astrid chirped, in a good mood again. Which probably meant bad news for him.

"My what, now?" he asked.

"The snowman," the Queen's face slipped back into annoyance as she brought a cup of— was that wine?— close to her lips. Wasn't it too early to be drinking?

"Oh— General Winter." Elliott frowned, not liking the way she'd said to good use. "What kind of use?"

"He will bring samples of various things for you to pick from… for the wedding," she added, at his blank stare. "Colors for napkins, the menu, that kind of thing. I'm afraid you and your fiancé are going to be rather busy today."

He almost recoiled at her words. Fiancé. Helena, his fiancé. Gods.

"Fine," he deadpanned, and went back to picking at the eggs on his plate.

It was going to be an insufferably long day.


KRISTA

"Behold," Andy said dryly, "The great Arendelle armada."

Every word dripped with heavy sarcasm. When Elliott had told them that morning that he couldn't spare grander ships, he'd really meant it. Their very dangerous, very important mission to the Southern Isles was to be carried out on a fishing boat. A very small, very cramped one too.

They weren't even in the main docks— where Astrid's keen eye could spot them— but on a more or less hidden port where they could leave safely. The captain that had showed them the ship and gave them five-minute lessons had left long ago.

"At least we won't attract unwanted attention to ourselves," Krista told him.

"The North Wind is going to break this thing," the prince complained, referring to their little wind bag— courtesy of Grand Pabbie and Elliott's magic combined. "Plus— I'm having a hard time picturing not two, but three of us fitting and traveling in this."

"Where is Brandon?" Andy asked.

Krista shrugged. "I don't know. My uncle sent word that we'd be meeting here."

Her uncle. Axel. She'd almost forgot he existed with everything that was going on— that blessing had lasted until earlier that morning, when they kind of said good-bye.

"So you aren't marrying Brandon, like your mother intended. Instead you're off to get yourselves killed someplace south," he'd said,

She'd nodded. "That's exactly right."

Then, as always, he'd made things worse by adding "Just know, Krista— this thing you have going with the prince? It can only end in heartache."

"Thanks for your expert opinion that no one asked for." If looks could kill, her uncle would've been sleeping with the fishes.

"Good-bye, Uncle Axel." She'd turned to go and never looked back, his spluttering apologies bounced off of her like a rubber ball against a wall. Hopefully, by the time they returned, her uncle would be long gone.

"If he doesn't show up in the next five minutes, we're leaving him," Andy successfully popped her memory train, which was good. She didn't wanna think about her uncle anymore. He looked at her with those sea green eyes, "Yeah?"

"Agreed."

"Leaving who?"

Krista was pretty sure her soul left her body for a couple of seconds after having it scared right out of her by the familiar voice. Andy, too, looked startled to his core.

"Brandon," she scowled at the guy, "That was unnecessary."

His physical appearance had changed since their last encounter. His curly dark hair was tied back, giving them a pretty good look at the bruise on his jaw— the purple and yellowness of the nasty mark made it hard to miss. Krista decided not to mention it— whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into on his last… expedition, she didn't want to know.

"Perhaps I should have announced myself," Brandon said. His dark eyes settled on Andy. "So you spoke true 'bout the Arendelle family being involved. Hello!"

"Hi," Andy's smile was wary. "I'm Anders."

"Brandon!" he said, his real smile clashing with Andy's forced one. His attention fleeted back to Krista. "So! Tell me all about this super-secret mission."

"Aboard," Krista said, gesturing at the small boat. Even if they were far away from the main docks, she didn't trust what the wandering ear might pick up on from their conversation.

"I haven't even agreed," Brandon placed both hands on his hips like a distrustful mother. "Are you trying to kidnap me? 'Cause I warn you—"

"Nothing like that! Look," Krista, against her better judgement, dropped down one of her legs on the boat. She almost yelped when it rocked violently from under her, but it didn't sink. Good enough. "Come on."


The boat just had one cabin, a small space with a couple of hammocks and a desk. A tiny storage with food and supplies, and not much else. Krista was starting to think this wasn't even a proper fishing boat, just someone's humble home.

They improvised and sat on a couple of crates, while Brandon made himself comfortable on the hammock.

"Andy of ya'll know how to sail a boat?" he asked.

"Of course," Andy lied.

"Okay, you obviously don't," Brandon said. "You look pretty darn scared out of your mind."

Krista's back muscles tensed, wanting to defend Andy but at the same time holding back. It was true Andy looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, but who could blame the poor boy after what had happened to his parents?

"So? How hard could it be?" Andy's stubborn self said.

Brandon smiled with amusement at rubbed at his stubbly jaw, "Allright. Suit yourself… now, do tell me the plan."

Andy and Krista exchanged a look. Andy didn't seem like a big fan of Brandon already, but odd as it was, Krista did trust the guy. He seemed like a good man in a storm—and boy were they heading into one.

So Krista, original mastermind behind this whole thing, told him everything.

If things went sour she'd already located a handy broom in the corner of the room that could be used to… incapacitate Brandon if he got difficult.

By the end of it, it wasn't necessary. Brandon just started to clap, while shaking with silent laughter. "Boy, you two rookie fishermen sure goin' after a big fish. The Southern Isles no less!" He said between fits of laughter.

Andy's green eyes flashed with warning. "Okay buddy, we didn't ask you to come here just to be mocked—if you don't want to help, please show yourself out—"

"What? Oh, no, no, my dear prince! You misunderstand me!" Brandon slid off the hammock and jumped to his feet, a spark of excitement in his eyes, "You've just got yourself your first and only crew member. I'm in!"

Krista was surprised. Usually things weren't this… easy.

"Um. Okay, so… you, uh, want money, or…" Andy trailed off.

"A few gold ingots will do nicely," Brandon said. Then his voice got quieter, more serious. "but—let me tell you something. I'm not just agreeing from the goodness of my heart… I've got some business to attend to myself at the Isles. Don't worry, it will not interfere with your bigger picture… I just really need this done. So—don't get in my way, okay?"

It had sounded like an underlying threat, but they both nodded.

Brandon smiled, back to his cheerful self, "Excellent, excellent…. And, hey, lucky for you…. I do know how to sail a boat!"

So the captain was named.


HELENA

Not once in her miserable and short life had Helena imagined she'd end up on her current situation the way that she had. Not even on her craziest, most insane dreams had this of all things crossed her mind.

It was laid out like this: she was sharing a couch with Elliott of all people, with a five-foot tall snowman asking her opinion between the cream-colored napkins and the cerulean ones.

And never had it occurred to her that this weird encounter would end up on a heated argument between herself and the abomination.

"The cerulean clashes with my dress," she told the insufferable snowman for the umpteenth time. To her utter horror, Astrid herself had brought back from home their dead mother's wedding dress for her to wear claiming it was 'tradition.' Which was horseshit, because all her other sisters had got to wear whatever they wanted on their weddings.

Then again, their weddings hadn't been forcibly arranged by their control-crazed oldest sister, so there was that.

The Creature, or General Winter, which was what Elliott called it, snarled at her and shook both pieces of colorful fabric in his tiny fist. "The cream goes well with everything else!"

"Who the hell made you our wedding planner?" Helena asked. "I'd like to have a word with them about their outstandingly poor judgment."

General Winter gasped and his ice-shards for eyes flashed dangerously, "Take that back!"

"Stop fighting," Elliott spoke, for what felt like the first time in hours.

He'd nodded and mumbled his agreement to everything she'd told him. She couldn't blame him for not putting any effort into this, but it still annoyed that he couldn't even try. The wedding probably wasn't going to happen if their stupid plan worked, so this was a waste of time… but still, she liked to pick and decide between the many options the unbearable snowman had provided.

"Control your child," Helena shot back, gesturing at the snowman.

Elliot's brow rose in amusement. "He's not my son."

"She's not only rude, she's also blind!" the snow creature cried, "Cerulean is a strong color! It should be on the napkins, and I'll fight you on this."

She smirked and flipped her hair back, "I don't fight the elderly."

"Oh! Now she's gone and done it!" the snowman dropped both napkins and raised his snowy fists like a street fighter of some sort. "To the death!"

"How about a compromise?" Elliott said before she could make up her mind about murdering the snowman or not. "Half of the napkins are cream, half are cerulean. All in favor?"

"I don't even know why you care about the creature's opinion, but fine," she said begrudgingly, crossing her arms. "It's not like we're actually going to use them."

"The rude woman speaks true," the snowman said, eyeing her with distrust, "If these plans are to be foiled, then all of this is for naught."

Elliott's blue eyes flashed in warning, and he glanced around. They were obviously alone in one of the many rooms, surrounded by samples of food and cloth. She understood his paranoia. It did feel like Astrid was lurking in every corner, and Elliott obviously still wasn't comfortable about talking of the overtaking so openly.

Maddy was the one that worried her. It had looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown during breakfast— had it not been for Helena's quick thinking, what would the second princess have said? She'd have to keep an eye on her.

On Helena's part, she couldn't be more thrilled. Finally Astrid would be removed from power. Ideally Helena would have liked to take the spot for herself— but it was Maddy's by right, which wasn't too bad. At least it wasn't Cristina or worse— Rowena. That reminded her… there was a strong chance that Andy would be meeting one if not all of her sisters. She didn't know how to feel about that.

"I think I've had enough for today," Elliott stretched and walked over to the window, uselessly trying to catch a glimpse of his brother who was —if everything was going well— already on the sea and on his way south. "We're taking a break."

Helena tried not to pout, "We still have to try the desserts."

The little plates of sample cake and fruits taunted her from the table against the wall, along with the rest of the food. Picking colors was boring, but food—now, that she enjoyed!

"Later," Elliott commanded, now completely lost to his own thoughts.

She stared a little too long at the strong line of his shoulders and the way his hands were clasped behind his back. She actually liked him a lot more when he wasn't talking. Kind of like a painting.

"Well, you heard the king," the snowman pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, "Door's that-a-way."

She clicked her tongue. "He said no more wedding stuff, not that I had to leave."

"I was simply translating what His Grace really meant."

She felt her hands tighten into fists, "Listen here you little piece of—"

A knock on the door made all of them stop cold.

Elliott mouthed 'who?', as his eyes met Helena's.

Astrid?

"Helena? Are you in here?"

She sighed through her nose, her shoulders slumping back down. "Maddy," she mouthed back. "Yes, I'm here," she called.

"Can you… um. Can you come outside, please? I need to speak with you."

King and princess exchanged another panicked glance. Elliott's face said everything; is she going to tell?

"Just a sec." Helena tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as she squared her shoulders and walked towards the door. She tried to make calming gestures at Elliott with her hands, it's going to be fine.

But Elliott didn't look convinced.

A small circle of snow had already gathered around his feet.


"Tell me," Helena said, closing the door behind her.

Maddy was alone, for once not in Astrid's company, but it didn't stop Helena from checking both ways of the hallway before she spoke again, "What is it?"

Her sister's face was pinched in anguish, her hands held close to her chest indicating her apprehensions. "There's something I forgot to tell Anders before they left," she barely breathed out.

Helena tried not to join in on her sister's panic. "You told him about Cecile, no? That's the most important thing. Everything's fine."

Maddy shook her head, "There… there was something else. It- it completely slipped my mind. I… they could be in trouble… even before they reach the mainland…"

"What?"

Maddy leaned in and whispered it to her ear. When done, she pulled back, and now Helena's face mirrored her sister's of terror.

"Oh shit."


ANDY

Andy hated boats.

He felt like a cat being forced into a bathtub full of water. Every nerve on his body resisted and worked against him, his survival instinct begged him to get away from this wooden deathtrap. Three years ago his parents had left on a ship—and not even a casket had returned.

For the longest time he'd pretended they'd survived—no bodies, no certainty, right? He made up a fantasy in his head where his parents made it to a deserted island.

"They're building a raft," Andy would tell himself. "Surely they'll come back."

Back then, it had been as if Elliott had died along with them. Not a peep from his older brother after the accident. That's around the time Andy had stopped trying to knock on the future-king's door. Of course, now he knew Elliott had been suffering just as much as he had—perhaps even more in his isolation.

Still… Andy was afraid. Every time the boat rocked with a powerful wave crashing against the hull, he mentally panicked.

It was easy to fake being seasick when Brandon raised his eyebrows at him. But it became impossible with Krista—she just knew. So he tried to avoid her questioning gaze for as long as he could. He stood at the – bow, stern, what did Brandon call the front again? —it didn't matter. The less he knew about this stupid ship, the better.

Why had he offered? What had he been thinking?

"You can't hide forever," Krista said quietly behind him.

He bit his lip and said nothing, tightening his death grip on the… was this a rail? He didn't know. But he held on for dear life and tried to pretend the vast extent of blue before him was but a painting of the open sea and not the real thing. With the smell of salt and the wind hitting his face, it was proving to be very difficult. Luckily the sun kind of blinded him anyway, so there wasn't much to look at.

"Andy. Come on. Don't put on a brave face—look, you're shaking," she didn't sound condescending, and his mind didn't get defensive—she sounded sweet, concerned.

"It's the first time I've been on a boat in years," he said to her, but kept his eyes on the horizon. "I… It was stupid of me to come."

"It's not stupid," she said gently, and walked over to stand beside him. She took his clammy hand in her warm, reassuring one. "Stupid was following your brother to the North Mountain with that crazy storm happening."

Despite the terror gnawing at his belly, he allowed himself to laugh a little. "If it hadn't been for that," he said, "I wouldn't have met you."

He finally forced his eyes away from the endless blue and to her brown eyes. With the sun hitting them, he could see the flecks of gold in them.

"Yeah, so you see—making stupid decisions prove to be beneficial in the end," she smiled back at him. "Your first trip, and now this one, will save you from the Westergard family."

"Ah." Andy had never thought of it that way. If he hadn't gone after Elliott on his coronation day, it was very likely he would have married Helena with or without his brother's blessing. He'd met Krista along the way, and by the end of it, realized his huge mistake and seen Helena's true colors. "You have an interesting point, Krista Bjorgman."

"Going 'round the fjord, now!" somewhere far, far away, Brandon's voice called. But Andy barely heard him. His vision was tunneled in on Krista's beautiful, beautiful face.

She chuckled and tilted her head at him, "Why are you staring like that?"

"I could kiss you," he told her, his eyes traced the bridge of her nose, her blushing cheeks, the lightest of freckles dotting them, even her unplucked eyebrows were very endearing to him. Till, finally, his gaze fell down to her lips.

"Well… you kind of have courted me and brought me along on expensive trips," she said, making a slight reference to their first kiss a million years ago when he'd oh- so-generously replaced her sled with a brand new one. "I suppose you've earned it…"

He grinned, big and real, before pressing their lips together.

It immediately sent the most pleasant of feelings to his previously knotted up belly. The apprehension from being on this wretched boat melted until it was a gooey, loving mess instead. Krista kissed him back just as eagerly, her hands cupping his face and bringing him even closer.

"Crap, guys, look at that!" a tiny voice that sounded like Brandon's tried to pierce through the moment, but Andy's mind was too hazy and Krista's lips too soft for him to really process the undertone of urgency in the thief's voice. They both ignored the interruption and continued to get lost in the other.

"Ah! —" the boat groaned under them and shook, almost knocking them overboard but Andy held on fast to Krista's waist and instead of falling to the sea they fell against the floor.

"What happened?" Krista asked a bit breathlessly. "Did we stop?"

Andy let her go and they sprung to their feet, Brandon's worried face bounding up to meet them. "We've got a problem, folks."

On his belt hung a spyglass, like the ones pirates use, to look at things far away. Whatever the problem was, it was up ahead, the little black dots Andy couldn't tell apart were apparently a threat.

"What kind of problem?" Andy's voice immediately hardened. The amazing moment he'd shared mere seconds ago with Krista was quickly being replaced with the feelings from that morning. His mind went through the vast list of things that could have gone wrong so quickly.

"Look in front of you, mates," Brandon said, handing over the spyglass that had been tucked in his belt. Krista took it and extended the handle to get a better look.

She squinted and pointed it ahead of them, Andy anxiously waiting his turn.

"Oh… oh no," by the time she handed the prince the spyglass, she was a few shades paler.

Andy held his breath and closed one eye, using Brandon's tool on the other to get a better look.

And there, hiding right behind the fjord, was an army. Navy? Andy didn't care about the proper term. All he knew were three things.

The first) The flag of the Southern Isles was snapping in the wind, flying on every one of those ships. There was at least a dozen of them.

The second) A blonde, mean-looking woman in a sharp uniform was grinning with shark-like teeth on the biggest vessel, looking right at him.

And the third) He was 100% sure that the mean blonde was one of Helena's sisters.


Heey, it's been a while!

So I got a new computer, very different from my last one- so I'm still getting used to it.

Please excuse any spelling mistakes, I didn't have time to proof read, I just wanted to get this chapter up. Also sorry that it's short, but the next one should def be longer.

thank u for reading!