We do not own 'Frozen' or any of its characters.

"Frozen Again: 'Love Never Ends"

Act VIII

Chapter 9

'Masquerade Night"

As the midafternoon early evening sky darkens, quiet, staid Arendelle Castle had been transformed as if by magic into a bowery of candlelight and festive, decked-out finery in every one of its lively corners.

Even the help - hired especially or as volunteers for this birthday party night of nights for the Queen - were already attired in the fancy dress garb of the 17th century Parisian footmen made famous by Masquerades past. Servants of all kinds, from doormen to serving maids to footmen were all scurrying about in matching, classy, frilled high neck costume of extravagant opulent days of yore. From embroidered silks, fancy brocades and posh white wigs, all signaled a tradition of elegance in all the drippings of upper-class intrigue and pageantry.

Knowing how enthusiastic Elsa was about her passion for history and fancy dress where the imagination was the only thing that could take flight during her lonely childhood, Iduna and Anna had done all they could to make it reality.

Working together on the extravagant decor that would make fairytale ideals reality, the creative mother and daughter had plotted with local dressmakers and old family relations on the continent to import a vast wardrobe of costumes from a theater associated with the tradition of the Venetian Carnival or 'maschera'.

The ballroom begins to fill with mask-wearing, visiting men and women who had availed themselves of the titillating costume changing room Queen Iduna and her bubbly younger daughter had enticed each of their guests with the open invitation thereof.

From Gainsborough's Blue Boy, to Butterfly Princesses and Romeos in tights; to gallant bullfighters and pantaloon wearing clowns of the Commedia del Arte, and so many other costumes in between, the ballroom was aglow with so many sights that the secluded castle had not seen in decades.

The Queen Mother had even brought in a small orchestra of musicians properly attired in historic Masquerade clothes of the Baroque era. So, white wigged vivacious violists, chirpy classical clarinetists, accompanied by charming cellists and piccolo playing performers made the mood music of Mozart, Beethoven and Schumann as inviting as if one stepped into storybook days of old.

"Come one, come all! The Masquerade Ball of the century is about to begin!" Even with a stylish green mask covering her face, Princess Anna's unmistakable soprano voice rises above all to ring loudly throughout the bustling ballroom.

Its large double doors are swept open by a bevy of well-dressed, costumed servants, all donning masks made famed by the Carnival of Venice - Venetian costume balls of 17th century Italy - like everyone else in the room.

Anna was wearing a whimsical green huntsman outfit with foxy reddish-brown tights and carrying a real bow and quiver full of sharp arrows. She had been practicing with it in the courtyard all afternoon as a feather under her green cap, bold Anna was supposed to be accompanied by her helpful husband, Kristoff.

But the sheepish man rather opted to help the servers and carry in innumerable plates and saucers and chinaware behind her, along with an extra table cloth extended over his legs to obscure his meager costume Anna had chosen for him.

Kristoff Bjorgman did not enjoy nearly half as much as his boisterous mate this dressing up nonsense cavorting around on full display at this silly costume party idea of his enthusiastic bride. The six foot five Ice Harvester was donning a cerulean blue cape sealed with a golden medallion embossed with the lightning symbol of the Roman god Zeus slung over a gladiator-like leather copper brown tunic. The golden metal gauntlets were around his amply displayed muscular arms and calves in a costume that overtly exposed all the rugged mountain man's beefsteak legs.

Embarrassed Kristoff, under the flimsy cover of a leather eye mask, peeks out from between the darkened pillars where the blushing, leather skirt wearing, bare-legged Olympian had immediately retreated upon entry into the RSVP ballroom.

The ballroom was slowly filling with people – important dignitaries and working-class citizens alike – all having fun hobnobbing and enjoying the food and festivity that the Queen's birthday bash brought to quiet Arendelle.

The entire town seemed to have turned out to attend their beloved monarch's birthday ball. In characters of Nordic legend like Nissen and Odin; timeless children's folktale protagonists such as Little Bo Peep and Red Riding Hood; to historical figures like Native American chief Powhatan and his daughter Princess Pocahontas; the Masquerade Ball was proving to be a real 'Who's Who' in legends or fact.

Plus there were more than a few furry animals – mythical and otherwise – that children and adults alike both were featured as, making this certainly a colorful gala to remember for all.

Young and old, all were wearing mandatory masks, from Grecian goddesses, Roman guards, seamen and sailors from all corners of the globe, mixing and mingling with elves and Julebukken antlered Santas. Many were sporting dominoes – wide shouldered, hooded dark cloaks with long billowy sleeves that covered the wearer from head to toe for that extra sense of mystery and fun that a Masquerade party imbued.

After all, at a Masquerade, introductions were unnecessary, so anyone could be anonymous behind the mystery of a mask to perchance to fall in love with someone they never knew they never knew. Plus they would have the opportunity of a lifetime to stand at a plentiful buffet full of victuals and punch and food and drink fit for a Royal ball where everyone – rich and poor, young and old, portly and slim, smart and dull-witted – were invited.

And this wasn't just any Ball. It was a birthday party, too, where many villagers who had come to know and love their young Queen for all she had done for them these past four years, wanted to join in the celebration that many of them helped make possible.

Many of the older villagers, and the youngest ones too, had put on their traditional homemade costume creations that were used as a Scandinavian Christmas tradition during caroling at this time of year. Those older, less adventurous souls who chose to sit out the dancing aspects of the ball, were warmly welcomed by white masked and wigged Gerda and Kai (wearing respective George and Martha Washington matching America's First Family presidential outfits) to the upper balcony Gallery that ran along the high ceiling's third story arcade above the dance floor.

From there, villagers could sit back and enjoy the party provisions provided up there in ample supply in the Queen's Birthday pale blues and purple and gold decorated gallery, while still be able to look down and watch the Ball as it was starting to take shape below.

"Nice view you got up here, folks. Not quite the White House, but looks like you're moving up in rank, Mr. President." Looking through his own sparkly gold Venetian mask, General Destin Mattias looks in from his duty check of the balcony to give his daily tease to his old 'friend' Kai.

Yes, he and Kai Roservalen had their share of disagreements over the years, but Mattias knew that there wasn't a better man to watch over the kingdom. And he made it too darn fun to tease.

"T-This..ergh…elaborate attire...was entirely Queen Anna's idea, General!" The overweight Minister of Affairs, adjusting his tight eye mask, stutters and stumbles awkwardly to his longtime rival's taunt.

"Tell me about it. You ain't kidding, brother." Mattias self-deprecatingly motions to himself donning a big blue, barechested bodysuit, with red sash, and Arabian gold curly-toe sandals, complete with a golden oven baked cookie shaped as Genie's lamp in hand.

"See you on the other side of the Delaware, General Washington." Denoting some American history he'd learned in his youth, Mattias mocks his fellow 'General' of an army with a salute and a chuckle when he spies his wife Halima. She was looking fine in her pastel Sugarplum Fairy Godmother costume, waving to him from below to join her.

"That is you somewhere beneath that ridiculous costume, is it not, General Mattias?" The last voice Mattias wanted to hear while he was wearing this outlandish get-up suddenly accosts the dark-skinned 'Genie' as he steps down to the ballroom first floor landing.

"Why hello there, Yelana. I didn't know you were coming to this shindig. It's not really your kind of thing. Anyway. How did you guess it was me beneath all this, ergm…finery?" With a resigned sigh at how foolish he looked but he had agreed to do anything to lift the birthday girl's spirits, Mattias points his painted blue nail fingertips from his high queue black ponytail down to his golden curly tied shoes.

"Any blind fool could sense a captive creature in this bizarre, uncivilized ritualistic, counterfeit environ where everyone is wearing a false covering over their eyes to shield one's identity. Ha! As if that farce could ever deceive a child of the sun." The Chief of the Northuldra scoffs at all the over the top sights and sounds that categorized this Masquerade. She was personally shocked that Iduna would allow a scandalous do such as this.

But then again, we knew our Iduna was born a special wildflower…

"So where's your costume? Didn't Anna stop you at the door like she did me for this crazy get-together she got planned for Elsa?" Mattias smirks at the memory of Agnarr's daughter cornering him with this wild Genie outfit she sweet-talked him into wearing. Anna thought an affable Genie was perfect for the big-hearted old friend of the family, 'because you make wishes come true'.

"This is my costume." Yelana responds deadpan to his pleasant query. Her sober, earthy grey wool look and unadorned clothing style practically never had changed since the day they met thirty-six plus years ago.

"R-right…" Mattias strokes his added to, long curled black goatee as he gazes down at the serious Northuldran leader with his Genie queue bobbing up and down.

"Speaking of my Gieddeviola (Wildflower) Iduna… all this intrigue because she did not speak her mind, letting her husband be unreasonable, again. I must talk to her on this failing of the Arendellian, as well as another more pressing matter. Perhaps you could you point me in the direction of the Queen of Arendelle? I mean the eldest one, not either of her impulsive daughters who all take turns. I've already seen the ginger one, dressed as a man, reveling around in her underwear." Yelana nitpicks like a staid old grandmother about Anna's choice of tight leotard beneath a meager tunic that easily displayed her lithe little a–

"Spoken like a true old bag with her head in the sand." Mattias murmurs under his breath snidely at the lady's gripes against his friend King Agnarr, Queen Iduna's mismanagement, and even criticizing Anna's clothing choice.

"What was that?" Yelana's eyebrows shoot up at the insolent man's insult she couldn't believe she just heard.

"I said : 'Your spoken wish is my command…Master." The General really gets into character as the genie of the lamp. He slaps his hands together and bows his head in the gestured vicinity of the side doors just opening with the royal King and Queen's entrance entourage.

"And there's nothing 'fine' about that preposterous clothing, General." The ever candid, outspoken Northuldra woman states in her droll no-nonsense way while she strides away to find the daughter of her village, Iduna.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

"Yoo-hoo! This soirée looks positively scrumptious, Princess Anna! Almost as good as the social dancing parties we throw in Paraiso." Clothed within a filmy gossamer cloud of golds, diaphanous whites with soft mint organzas and chiffons, the ostentatious Crown Princess of Paraiso composed a butterfly Fairy Princess from her own replete wardrobe. With flowers, peacock feathers and delicate gauzy butterfly fairy wings that completed her look from the Arendelle costume offerings, Princess Valentina was surprisingly one of the first to arrive at the growingly populated ballroom.

The Brazilian young woman was eager to make a splash at any party, and had brought her own lavish costume – or was that just her normal traveling wardrobe? Either way, Valentina was looking absolutely stunning herself in a great big puff of chiffon and organzas.

She magically flutters into the ballroom like the fabled Midsummer Night Dream's Shakespearean Fairy Queen Titiania she was portraying to where Princess Anna was checking up on last-minute arrangements with the servants and musicians.

GASP!

"What are you wearing…?" Fashionplate Princess Valentina of Paraiso stops dead in her trendy tracks to grip her graceful throat and trace her elegant upper lip as she looks incredulously at the younger Arendelle Princess who just turned around to face her first royal guest.

"Great! Since you know so much about balls, maybe you can help me organize how to serve all those hors d'oeuvres and mini St. Lucia cakes Gerda just sent up from the kitchen on the like, eight-thousand salad plates they wanted brought up here for each guest! I mean, how are people going to eat with those masks and costumes – some with furry gloves and paws on?! They're supposed to be dancing, maybe snacking on finger foods, not eating full course dinners! Yeesh, Gerda! On top of the ginger cookies and saffron buns, she made Fårikål lamb casserole and fjord fresh smoked salmon?! Way too much food! But it does all look and smell so good. Wanna try with me one of those cucumber sandwich thingys? Mmm-mmm, they're as yummy as they look! Oh, and which dance and what music should be played first, in which order to best keep the rhythm of mystery and romance in this place? How are we going to tell them all to stay quiet and anonymous? Or will they just know?! And where's Mama? She was supposed to be here to orchestrate this all! Ooh! I never am very good at being in charge of palace parties when I was standing in as Queen. And I think such a big deal ball with sooo many visitors must be twice as tough! How 'bout you?" As the only one in the royal family present to welcome the first guests of the Masquerade Ball evening, the excitable moustache sporting, cross-dressing young woman was practically pulling her ginger hair out.

During her nine months as ruler of Arendelle, the worst thing on Anna's to-do list was 'entertaining royal visitors' for fear the bluntly honest gal would say something rude or weird that the nation would regret.

Not like Elsa. She was always elegant and smooth, and always knew the right thing to say to easily ruffled other royal leaders, just like Papa raised his eldest daughter to.

I wasn't ever meant to be Queen! Not in my wheelhouse at all! I am SO glad you're back in our Arendelle for keeps, big sisty! I missed you as much as you missed me, too, wiling away your days way up there in Ahtohallan alone. I can't wait for you to come out and see how much fun your Masquerade Ball is going to be! Especially if someone gets his butt in gear…Where is that Red anyway?! The party's starting without him!

Grabbing hold of Fairy Princess Butterfly Valentina's opera-length gloved hand like a lifeline, Anna bounces up from the ballroom refreshment center where she had been clattering plates and chomping finger food at the buffet table, generally spazzed out by the enormity of her anxiety caused by still MIA Hans.

"Well, I always considered Masquerade parties to be especially unique, because each costume guest brings their own distinctive sense of ambiguity and magic, some a little bit more than others. The choice of music makes all the difference! I would love to pick out which classical and contemporary pieces your audience would enjoy dancing to, Princess Anna! Just leave it to me. The mood music will be exemplary tonight." The exhibitionist Princess of Paraiso enjoyed showing off her talents, as well as her many other excellent features.

That was principally when she had a stake in tormenting a particular young man attending this party who could dance almost as proficiently as she.

"Have you yet seen Prince Alonso? He owes me a dance or two since the last Ball he skipped out on me." Or was it me who walked out on him? I lost count in our rollercoaster relationship. Trying to sound disinterested with a coy primp to her classy chin, Valentina smirks in quite an un-fairylike manner. Then she sets her exquisite hand to assisting the Arendelle Princess in rearranging the table setting of the entrée table behind the curtain more tastefully artful.

"No… Maybe? …actually…I'm not sure…heehee. What's he dressed up like?" Her fingers sticky from re-stacking the tall mound of mini St. Lucia cakes, Anna waves a gesture to Princesses Amber and Sofia. The slender young women were respectively wearing blue and yellow Princess ball gowns as they enter the ballroom, as Anna entices them to join the refreshment sampling clutch.

"You're not supposed to ask questions like that, silly! It's a Masquerade party for heaven's sake! All is secret until the end of the night!" Uppity Princess Amber puts her nose in the air at Anna. She too was repulsed by the young ginger Princess of Norway's strange choice of costume to wear when she could have been another fairytale belle of the ball.

Princess Amber was sure to choose for herself one such lovely costume depiction of Charles Perrault's classic French fairytale 'Cendrillon' ('Cinderella') to bring from her home in Enchancia to this intriguing Masquerade Ball in Arendelle.

"What a wonderfull party! You're such good sisters! Like Amber and me!" Sofia gushes, looking so sweet and bubbly in her buttery yellow tiered rosette ballgown.

"'Like 'Amber and I', Sofia." The more prim of the Princess stepsisters corrects, but Amber soon gives a sisterly smile to the younger blue-eyed girl afterwards.

"Umm…Excuse me? Is this where we eat our meal? On these – wow – fancy glass plates? You see, my brother forgot to catch lunch, so he's pretty famished. But I don't know if I'd trust him with your family heirloom dinner ware. Ryder's a little clumsy, especially in enclosed situations where a lot of people are present. We've been trying to cure him of his shyness. But he still prefers reindeer to people." The young Northuldra girl named Maren Nattura quietly intercepts one of the etched Arendelle crocus symbol clear glassware plates which Anna nearly knocked off the magnificent regal buffet table that the native girl had never seen the likes of.

"Oh, she's good. By the way, love the gypsy outfit. So risqué." Princess Amber compliments Maren's costume choice. She almost wished she had the opted to wear the off the shoulder, chiffon scarf twirling, low neck outfit rather than the proper Cendrillion Princess with the glass shoes that were pinching her toes.

But what is a little pain to beauty? The vain young woman thinks with a wince at her achy, yet elegant feet. Princess Amber sticks out her well-turned ankle to get a better look at how pretty glass slippers looked, if not felt.

Until the stroke of midnight, I will have the most beautiful feet in the land, won't I?

But that secret little vanity was ill-timed, as a wild 'reindeer' comes barreling in towards the chatting group, his blinder antlers causing this gauche costumer to not spy Amber's dainty feet projected out...

"WHOA-Who-aoh!" Ryder Nattura, wearing a cute, oversized reindeer outfit, skitters across the polished dance floor as he trips over this Cinderella's glass slipper.

Fortunately for both the glass slipper and the rows of wine glasses carefully stacked on the refreshment table, there was a hero of Olympic quality speed and strength to save them both.

Kristoff Bjorgman just happened to be hanging around the table where his lithe little 'Robin Hood' of a wife was scooting around, leaning down often and showing off her tight wares. The faithful young hubby had offered to hold her extra large bow and arrow for her while she did, 'to spare the dishware'. But Kristoff really was just enjoying the view.

And when his view saw the catastrophe his fellow rangifer-loving pal Ryder was about to befall, with Herculean skill, the 'Reindeer King' moved in to herd in his clumsy pal and save the day.

"Thanks, man." Ryder whimpers as Kristoff bodily rescued him from total disaster. Which would be really bad after he begged Northuldra Chief Yelana if he could come to Arendelle too, promising to not be 'any trouble at all' when she wanted to speak to Iduna after all that happened in the Great White North.

"Don't mind Ryder. My brother's always embarrassing at parties." Ashamed Maren makes the excuse for her red-faced twin. "I told you to wear the goat costume Mrs. Gerda said was the match of this gypsy Esmeralda one. But no, you had to insist on the last reindeer outfit with the big antlers and big feet, didn't you?" The wryly smirking, dark-haired Northuldran girl recalled how her twin's eyes lit up when he spotted the rangifer outfit he wanted to dress up as instead.

"Sorry, Honeymaren. Won't happen again." Ryder apologizes, using the childhood nickname he had dubbed his sister with growing up, feeling more sheepish than either reindeer or goat right about now.

"Maren, Ryder. My name is just 'Maren' when we're not in the Forest, remember?" The bossy twin young woman never wanted to travel beyond the Enchanted Forest that she had only known her entire life. Although, that said, her twin couldn't wait to get out in the world beyond the sealed sky dome. And attend his first real, big gathering.

Just so you could embarrass yourself in front of more people than you did there.

"Come on, Ryder. You can help me get the punch bowl refilled." Recognizing a female on the rampage, Kristoff tries to come to his young friend's assist with the request for aid.

"Sure! I'll get this end!" The eager Northuldran boy rashly lifts one end of the punch bowl, causing its red contents splashing out all over the white lace tablecloth and his sister Maren to groan aloud.

"I got it, Ryder. You carry my bow and quiver for me, okay?" Kristoff almost regretted the empathetic gesture when the so-excited-he-was-a-bundle-of-nerves boy. The responsible mountainman nods to his Saami bow and arrow set he had leaned for safety against the pillar, after deciding it was too dangerous for Anna to be poking in people's faces while she was frenetically dancing.

Over his head and everybody's, 'Hercules' boldly hefts the entire heavy glass punch bowl like it was nothing. And without spilling another drop, too, as all the females present couldn't help their approving stares.

"I'll be sure to tell Alonso if I see him that you want a dance, ma'am!" Forgetting himself in the ruckus and thinking Valentina was speaking candidly before, Kristoff just then accidentally drops the extra table cloth he was holding over his lower half.

But the helpful Snow Prince was too responsible for his own good. Kristoff doesn't allow the punch bowl to even tip as he lets his eyes roll back with a sigh at the knowledge he was exposed now in public wearing the ridiculously skimpy Hercules outfit before these wide-eyed and finicky royal females.

"Don't you dare say anything of the sort to him! I am NOT begging that Casanova Prince of Córdoba for an audience in anything – much less a silly dance!" A humiliated, volatile Valentina spits out venomously, her feathers ruffled as she forces even brave Hercules to back away from her vicious rancor, even if it meant him walking out onto the ballroom floor for anyone in the gallery above to gawk at.

Kristoff swallows his pride and moves across the ballroom auditorium's siding to refill the punch bowl, following close after several other more formally dressed footmen he hides his shy Herculean cuirass behind.

"He can move really fast with those nice and tight brawny thighs. Just like the real thing." Super storybook expert Princess Sofia whispers as she giggles in awe of 'Hercules' massive musculature in the form-fitting costume only this leatherbound young man could do proper justice. Sofia squeezes Anna's arm approvingly while the golden haired girl watches muscly Kristoff leave the refreshment table nook that she approaches.

Feeling like a beauty herself in a tale as old as time, the friendly Princess of Enchancia smiles next to Anna as she tries to imagine what her Prince Hugo back home would look like in a Roman mythological hero costume like that. But the realist in Sofia knew he wasn't even close to this level of muscle mass as she continues to ogle Anna's husband in bronze armor and breastplate trying to look inconspicuous as Hercules valiantly braves the dance floor.

"I like your guy's costume." As she tinkles her street dancer gypsy's tambourine, Maren comments. She was beginning to get into the spirit oft he moment as her eyes open wide at the cache of other young men in all kinds of fancy dress costumes waiting at the doorway to stream into the ballroom.

But the Northuldran young woman's real attention was elsewhere, as Maren Nattura's keen eyes – and just as keen spirit senses - thought she caught sight of another force of nature approaching from nearby.

Only Ahtohallan knows what you're up to this time, Haway Gieddeviola (Auntie Wildflower)…

"Yeah. I know. Isn't he dreamy? Kristly gets real shy about me showing those impressive muscles off. But how could I pass up the chance to brag on my man?" Totally unaware that Maren had zoned her out, Anna whispers conspiratorially to the other young Princesses who were helping their new friend make this party perfect for her big sister.

"Oh, hold on! All this talking reindeer and ogling Kristly, I almost forgot my big speech!" Anna notices how only a few guests had tentatively followed Princess Valentina's brassy lead into the ballroom, with more villagers left outside the doors, peering in tentatively.

So Princess Anna clears her throat, never nervous in a crowd, because she considered them all old friends.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Friends and neighbors and visitors from all over the world! Come one, come all! Welcome to Queen Elsa of Arendelle's Masquerade Ball Birthday Party! There's lots of food and music and dancing to come before the precise moment of midnight for the start of winter solstice when the night's unmasking will take place! Until then, we mustn't reveal our identities, or do much speaking at all! Let's just enjoy a lot of dancing to maintain the mystery of who is hidden behind each mask! Let's keep the excitement of mystery and fun the entire night in true Masquerade Ball style as we all celebrate my sister, the wonderful Queen of Arendelle! Together, let's give our birthday girl the greatest, most magical, most entertaining and fun party ever, to show how much we love her! To Queen Elsa!" Born to be a natural optimist and rabble-rouser speaker, she bubbles over with excitement for all their plans to fall into place tonight.

Living up to her Robin Hood thief name, Anna stops an already dizzy Ryder in his tracks below the dais she had hopped up to as she snatches back her confiscated bow and arrow set right off his back. Then an invigorated Queen Anna holds her borrowed Saami bow and arrow high for those Arendelle citizens to join in her party girl enthusiasm. She nearly knocks off her hat with the birch wood end of her bow in her gusto, revealing her ginger orange braids pinned to the top of her head as her moustache was dangling off precariously.

"Oops! Even with this nifty mystery mask on, I just blew my cover! But you all probably already figured out who I am, right? I neglected to change my voice where you would never ascertain my clever disguise of 'Robin Hood and his Merry Men'. Oh well. Please let me introduce my merry men!" Anna lowers her pitch at the close of her culpable statement with an introduction to Friar Tuck Olaf and Maid Marian Eliana.

The pair of snow people waddle up in front of the throne dais at the center of the ballroom beside her and wiggle their branches from beneath their cool, customized costumes.

"So, thank you all for attending this Winter Masquerade Ball in Queen Elsa's honor to celebrate her blessed 25th Birthday all together as family! Please enjoy the mystery while you eat, drink, dance and be merry in the happiest place in the world – our beloved kingdom of Arendelle!" Anna holds her archery set up high in the air, her spirits raised up just as high as she looks to her beloved people's smiling faces back at their boisterous, ever effervescent, sparkling Princess.

"Hooray!" The Arendellians raise the cheer right back at the best cheerleader the nation would ever have, as they all start to stream in the officially open Masquerade Ballroom where Friar Olaf and Maid Eliana graciously stand at the entry and bow to their guests in warm welcome.

Eliana must contain animated Olaf from waylaying each entering citizen with his famous 'warm hug', lest he muss his masked costume or theirs, as enigmatic smiles were the order of the night.

"Hercules! From whence artest thou? You get the privilege of the first dance with the Princess of theves!" Ready to enjoy the ball and her role as the infamous 12th century rogue thief, Anna puts on the funny archaic speech pattern and an old English accent that she had read about in the aforementioned lore. Racing down from the dais, the peppy gal calls out to her husband whom she had personally dressed as the herculean figure this afternoon.

But reticent Kristoff had once again attempted to hide himself at the rear of the extra reserve punch bowl behind that curtain, now that so many new faces were peering in at him. "Or must I use my unrivaled archery proficiency to make you quiver, strong man?" The ginger shows off her bow and arrow skills as Robin Hood threateningly draws her arrow in Kristoff's semi-concealed direction in the far corner.

"All right! I'm coming! I'm coming!" Knowing Anna to be dangerous with weaponry of any sort firsthand, Kristoff emerges from behind the punch and hors d'oeuvre reserve table that thrilled to meet new people and look at their interesting costumes close up – especially the reindeer ones like his – young Ryder had abandoned him already.

Again Kristoff sighs and ignores the tittering princesses standing around the buffet laughing at him and his immodest get up that Anna made him put on for this foolish ball.

"My, oh my, just look at this place. Why have a ballroom with no balls? That's the question I always asked some obdurate man. Now, Anna has simply outdone herself decorating and setting this enchanted Ball in motion for our Elsa." As she and King Agnarr were about to enter the ballroom from their private side doorway, Queen Iduna congratulates her younger girl for taking on a new task and succeeding brilliantly.

Anna's parents could see their busy little bee orchestrating servants and dishes and making last minute party planning details work before the 'Princess of thieves' made the welcome announcement to open the ball for the citizens.

"But what on earth is she wearing, Iduna? Before the other royal guests arrive, shouldn't you have her go upstairs to pick out a nice dres—Oof!" Squinting at Anna's masculine clothing form's back as they approach, Agnarr gets a rough elbow in his side from his demanding wife.

Still on tenderhooks for this suitor fiasco her insensitive mate had invited to this supposedly carefree event, Iduna glares at Agnarr from beneath her long queenly veil. So the culpable King, not able to undo his deed to his wife's satisfaction, makes a quick recovery pertaining to Anna's costume choices.

"She looks fine. Cough - Magical, in fact." He embellishes, trying to get in his irritated mate's good graces all afternoon, though Iduna barely smiles at him.

Sure, Agnarr had apologized to his Queen, expressing his regret for actions taken before their recent adventure into the unknown of Elsa's loneliness that he erroneously thought may cure it. But, with all the eligible princes already assembled here and now to attend her birthday party, there was little the King could realistically do to persuade them to leave already without throwing diplomacy to the wind.

But that didn't make Iduna any more pleased with what he did, which may ruin this happy day for Elsa that her mother and sister had been industriously planning for months.

"That's better." The older Queen of Arendelle adjusts the demure long veil and cape of the ancient Queen she was portraying that matched his King Olaf the Holy.

Holy? Ha! That's a laugh, your Majesty! Although with all the layers of clothes she was currently wearing, the still vexed at her husband Queen Iduna was getting pretty warm under the high collar with the volume of people coming into the ballroom.

Becoming overheated was never a problem for the Ice King, even in a detailed, embroidered with gold finery, heavy red velvet cape, silver chainmail tall boots, and a long, solid gold plated armored fauld and tasset that befitted the 10th century first King of Norway he was cosplaying.

Giving his perturbed wife an contrite smile beneath his stylish, golden bejeweled mask, Agnarr moves them through the respectful crowd that some had a feeling they were in the presence of their monarchs. King Agnarr touches his busy younger daughter's shoulder from behind with one hand, the long handled silver ax that epitomized King Olaf's peace through strength reign in the other gloved hand.

Not recognizing her Papa at first, the startled Robin Hood on the hunt for her Olympian Hercules, accidentally lets loose her baited arrow. It just narrowly misses striking a quick stepping Kristoff to ricochet off his thankfully real metal armbands he throws up in self-defense which, in turn, stops the actual projectile from hitting any of the terrified females gathered behind him.

But the loosed arrow bounces back towards the unsuspecting legendary archer Robin Hood instead.

From its trajectory, the self-inflicted killing blow probably would have merely plunged into the shocked lively girl's feathered hat. But, taking no chances, her cryokinetically savvy Papa, still an Ice King beneath all that regalia, diverts the sharp arrowhead at a more downward angle to the left.

SPLUNKK!

"Masquerade Balls are sure highbrow. I think I've been skewered. Heeheehee." Cracking a joke where the pleasant snowman had been nibbling on the pineapple and grilled chicken chunk barbecue skewer waved in his hand, Friar Tuck Olaf looks up cross-eyed. He then feels at his head with his branches between that brown ring of tufted hair fuzz in a monk-like, bald-shaven fashion.

"Are you done playing?" The beautiful when peevish Queen Iduna brushes back her long cream veil on her noble brow. It falls over her exquisitely embroidered teal dress guise of the founding King of Norway's beloved wife – Queen Astrid, who too was formerly a Princess of Sweden.

Iduna walks up to her husband and plucks the driven arrow that had been implanted in Olaf's skull-less head by the Ice King, to instead shake its sharpened stone point under her kingly mate's nose.

"Umm…Before your not-so-merry man arrives, Gingersnap, may your mother and I have the honor of the first dance in this fairytale setting you have personally created? That should encourage the remainder of our timorous guests to come out on the dance floor to get this thing started properly." Agnarr turns to his daughter to make another blundering attempt to quell his cross queen who had only spoken a few words since breakfast to him. He had tried to be especially amicable to his wife's choice of his ornate costuming, found coolly laid out on their bed after his bath after their long journey, whether he preferred it or not.

The uncomfortable King even agreed to sport an extremely convincing long ginger beard and full gold crown relic believed to belong to his predecessor monarch, the famed 'Eternal King of Norway' who held the title of St. Olaf, Rex Perpetuus Norvigiae.

"Is it considered presumptuous to not even ask your partner if she wishes to go out on the dance floor before you propose it, O Eternal King?" Still full of vindictive fire all afternoon for his suitor stunt this morning, Queen Iduna mockingly had been launching barbs at her now more docile mate. Cutting remarks as sharp as the honed arrowhead that she was currently waving rather dangerously under Agnarr's King Olaf thick ginger beard at his neck area.

"Must I ask, Iduna? Have you not said in the past that I am the most presumptuous man to have proposed many things to you – including marriage, not two weeks into our courtship - that required your forbearance to keep this faulted man on the straight and narrow, my lady Queen?" Having been on the receiving end of his wife's cold shoulder, silent treatment all afternoon while they dressed in costume in opposite ends of the uncomfortable bedroom, Agnarr holds his vulnerable gulping neck in abeyance of his silver masked mate's weapon.

"Are you all right, poco ave canora? Such weaponry may not be advisable on a dance floor at such close proximity with other couples moving in rhythm in the ballroom. Shall we relieve you of all those unnecessary sharp objects? Hmm?" Cajoling Iduna to lower her threat, diplomatic Chancellor Esteban, moving in rhythmic time to the music, smoothly cuts across the dance floor like a true matador.

He was donning a sleek, black and violet with yellow and red accented Spanish outfit called a traje e luces - 'suit of lights' - of the bullfighter he was portraying.

After witnessing the near detrimental incident from afar, Esteban anxiously motions towards the handful of arrows still in Robin Hood's quiver to Kristoff for him to confiscate them from his scrunchy-nosed little wife.

The King then silently hands a dumbfounded Kristoff his large axe right after the tall, leather bound Roman myth 'immortal demigod' curfews the use of someone's arrows, while still managing to balance the pair of cups full of punch that he had brought for himself and a thirsty Anna.

"I'm gonna put these behind that curtain in the sidelines for now, for safe keeping." Kristoff confiscates Anna's arrows and collects them along with the King's axe to securely place in one of the side vestibules, just for safety's sake. "I'll bring you back a plate of your favorite cheeses, Baby." Kristoff bribes his always hungry all the time since they arrived back little wife with her preferred vittles.

"Aw-ww!" Anna grumbles, though the sound of Johanne's homemade brunost covered sveler sandwiches sounded scrumptious, even if half of her Robin Hood mystique was being stolen by these fuddy-duddy men.

("That guy's right. We don't need weapons on the dance floor. Besides, the way you dance, Anna, you'll put someone's eye out for sure. Plus, I don't trust your father parading around with that massive, sharp bludgeon. Not tonight when you-know-who might just show up at any given second."} The Wind Whisperer teases his pinched face gal in asparagus green with Middle Ages brown booties.

"Do you think Queen Elsa will be hungry, too? She missed that light dinner buffet that everyone ate before. Olaf and I will fetch her some of those yummy smoked sausages and cheesy bits she likes." Sweetie Eliana , not understanding the bad atmosphere between the older King and his Queen.

"Then we can have ice cream cake later!" She waves Olaf off as Eliana, dressed and veiled as Maid Marion outfit, makes a cogent suggestion to her nodding, less complicated-when-it-came-to-ice-cream Friar Tuck balded snow boyfriend.

"You two go make her up a plate of the stuff she likes for us to bring in." Kristoff proposes to the eager snowpeople as he was always ready to go the distance for Anna's sister.

The two 'merry snow-men' nod up at 'Hercules' and start to waddle through the increasingly populated dance floor of masked men and women surveying one another's avante garde and classical costumes while trying to assess just who was who. The string quartet's long oratorio recitation of Beethoven's Minuet Symphony No. five in C minor plays low and ominous in the background of the dim candlelit ballroom.

"What a good idea, Son. I'm certain our Elsa, will appreciate the refreshment after her long afternoon nap, to ready our birthday girl for an enjoyable evening. I will personally take it to her." King Agnarr surprises Kristoff by accepting the Ice Harvester's unoffered new glass of punch before he could even lift it to his own lips.

"My love, you said earlier that Elsa was already in costume and merely resting. Shall we go in now to perhaps awaken and escort our daughter to her Masquerade Birthday party big night you so…brilliantly orchestrated…?" Trailing off, the unobservant King strains his dim sight in the low lit ballroom to see his wife's long trailed queenly veil suddenly be dismissively tossed off at his feet.

"Iduna! Where are you going?!"

Overheated free spirit Iduna flows in the opposite direction of the ballroom instead of accepting her husband's dance offer, as she, in fact, waves to another man on the opposite side of the quickly filling dance floor.

Although King Agnarr was looking quite regal himself in King Olaf II's red cape and armor, Iduna, in her long trailing cape dismissively flows past him towards where the Spanish bullfighter was waving back from a field of several of the suitor princes. They were beginning to mill around in their fancy costumes, dressed to impress in anticipation of their plans to be the first to engage the eligible younger Queen of Arendelle at her birthday soirée.

"I am glad to see you have thrown yourself into the Masquerade mystique, to look so dashing and debonair doing it, Esteb—I mean, good sir!" A smiling Queen Iduna - amending her familiar address of her old friend due to the rules of the Masquerade - switches from her uncomplimentary glare at her mate in the doghouse to extol the Chancellor of Avalor's showy bullfighter outfit.

"Just in time, too. Please come with me, masked Matador. There is something you must help me upstairs with that needs attending to." Iduna whispers as she squeezes Esteban's thin arm.

"Ole toro!" To which the classy showman of an older Avaloran ambassador cries out the matador's challenge accepting motto as he flamboyantly strikes a pose. The older man displays his red twirled 'muleta' red cape and completed his look with traditional 'montera' black hat upon his prestigious head.

As for Iduna, she opted to drape herself on the debonair arm of the svelte South American companion who unquestioningly agreed to accompany her to Arendelle Castle's upstairs interior living quarters.

The elegant, articulate and beautiful queenly counterpart to King Olaf's 10th century past reenactment, didn't even give her contrite King a passing glance as she departed the room. Agnarr's extended hand proposing a first dance to open the ball, still hanging midair, was quite ignored when Iduna left with the visiting ambassador of Avalor instead.

"Hmmph…" The perturbed King had stared in their departing direction for several uncomfortable seconds before he wandered off to follow Olaf and Eliana's chatterbox lead to the Conservatory. The regal King had passed more than few curious foreign princes along the way, each trying to catch his eye to salute the man they were sure was the father of the Norwegian Queen they'd come to woo.

"Ookay. That happened. Guess we get to open the Ball, Honey. May I have this dance, Sir Hercules?" Her teeth on edge, Anna was left unsure with all the bad vibes between her parents and the high tension that was palpable in the ballroom's thick air. The ballroom was pervading with so many scents and sounds and suitors as the orchestral music and voices rising from impatient audience gathering above and below on the dance floor now.

And they all were waiting for the royal rulers of this kingdom to start the mysterious Arendelle Masquerade Ball with the first dance.

So, Princess Anna holds on to her one constant in life named Kristoff Bjorgman to boldly step out in her role as Queen again and lead the first waltz of the evening.

"You got it, Baby." Though he was not exactly a consummate dancer eager to step out on a ballroom floor himself in his flimsy get-up – nor was he yet comfortable to dance in his role as 'Prince Consort to the Queen' – Herculean Kristoff saw that Anna didn't need another argument just now. It didn't take the Snow Prince's psychic skills to know his gal needed a little mental and physical diversion to get through this first part of the all-important, imminently starting evening.

So to the ominous 'Tocata and Fugue' of the composer Bach in D minor, a shaky Hercules leads the frowning Robin Hood into the quadrille type dance form the two had practiced before for their own wedding which seemed way more than five months ago.

They were hesitantly joined in the group dance by several more costumed couples who had little idea of whom they were partnered with, simply choosing those by fancy dress they fancied. So well designed were the Italian theater outfits of the Commedia del'arte Queen Iduna had chosen that allowed fluid movements amid full cover of masks that added to the mystery of this early Masquerade night.

{"Hans is here in Arendelle, isn't he? We worked so hard to get him here! Where is that jerk, Kristly? You said you were sure you felt his presence in the Castle before! Elsa's not going to be very happy to come out and find that Red has not even shown up at her party yet!"} An anxious Anna communicates via her telepathic bond to Kristoff, clinging to his arm in between the quick stepping quadrille's chassé, jeté and entréchatta set moves.

{"Calm down, Anna. Hans is close. Closer than you think."} Lumbering through the intricate steps, Kristoff reassures Anna as he glances anxiously from their chaotic dance pattern which causes everyone else on the dance floor to give the distracted pair a dirty look.

But the Spirit Whisperer's gaze was less on the guests and rather at where his father-in-law was about to encounter one guest in particular before exiting the ballroom for the Conservatory where Elsa had been resting all afternoon…


"You will never catch a moonbeam like Iduna, sir." A wise scratchy tone sounds at the King's shocked side, seemingly from out of nowhere.

"Hmm?" Stewing Agnarr turns around to see a short, dark, wrinkle-skinned woman staring him right in the eye.

"It is not possible to soothe a wildflower's soft yet indomitable petals with a raised voice, Arendelle King, nor tame an elemental wisp of Nature to your will if she's not in harmony with her soul." Yelana appears directly behind the King, startling his already ruffled senses with her riddles.

"Yes. I will take your valued pearls of wisdom into thoughtful consideration, Yelana. For all my wildflowers, whom I sadly have not lived up to the beautiful promise of. Welcome to Arendelle." King Agnarr politely bows to the older female leader of the Northuldra whom he had heard much of from his General Mattias. He respected for her connection to Iduna's people she has shepherded for decades.

"You admit you were in the wrong? Could it be you are ready to grow yourself at the beginning of your great journey at last, Agnarr? This is what I have come to speak to you and Iduna about. Just a little further out from the darkness and you will be home where you first heard harmony calling, Ice King." Yelana enigmatically states, causing Agnarr to furrow his ginger brows at the memories her words forced to play in his spinning head.

"What do you mean by that?" Since he was a tiny boy, that little voice Prince Agnarr had forever heard gnawing at the back of his dutiful mind whispers to the Northuldran leader as his palest hazel eyes flash blue-white behind his mask.

"On her way through the Enchanted Forest, she stopped by with this message for you, Ice King. Because the ancient Winter spirit understood that your chosen heart would reclaim its righteousness there and heed the call to serve your nation, your people, your family, to once more give it meaning." Yelana's deep statements of profound significance perplex the man as Agnarr automatically gazes to Iduna to clear up her native leader's conundrum. But he found his wife no where in sight.

"Hey. Don't let this old woman's psycho-babble get you down, my Crown Prince. We all know you love your family and your country. So do what you know inside you have to do to make it right and tonight special for the birthday girl who's put it all on the line for Arendelle." General Mattias, ignoring his shame in being dolled up as Aladdin's magic Genie – and having his lamp rubbed by way too many ladies this evening so far on the dance floor already – meanders up to his old friend. The high curled ponytailed man had sensed Agnarr's telltale subzero chill start to crust over his moustache and St. Olaf's beard, not to mention the entire chilled down ballroom that signaled to Mattias the King needed some backup.

"I will leave you now to act accordingly contrite for your stupidity towards your daughter. The young Arendelle Queen is long in need of hearing your approbation of her choices, because of her great love and respect for you and her mother. Her spirit has reached a maturity yours must yet attain. The Spirits and I both agree that gives Elsa the regal authoritative right to exercise her majesty over this land, this kingdom." The judicious sage woman speaks plainly to King Agnarr as Kristoff sneaks in and out between the older trio to deliver the pair of refreshment plates Olaf and Eliana had gathered for Elsa at Anna's caring instruction.

"I foresee Anna will never fail to remain the other half of the Ice Queen's soul always. But there is another destined to stand beside the 5th Spirit to keep her heart light burning strong as she is meant to rule Arendelle for decades to come with he at her side. You have recognized this, Agnarr, and as a jealous father, even secretly feared it. Now it is time for embrace its beauty and all it could mean for your exceptional child and your nation. That is, if you are truly remorseful and are ready to make up for your poor choices in the past." Blunt as ever, even to the royal monarch, Yelana's aged eyes motion towards the Conservatory door where she keenly sensed the special Spirit of Harmony was slumbering.

"In other words: 'You should let the future we've all been given a second chance at now take care of itself.' But right now the future says you'd best get those trays to your little girl before those ice cream sandwiches and soft cheeses melt." Mattias winks at Agnarr, knowing full well that particular scenario could never happen in his cold environment.

"Care to dance, charming lady in a Northuldran chief costume?" Quirking his head at the rebuked Agnarr, blue chested, puffy pants wearing Genie Mattias sweeps a disagreeably eye-rolling Yelana away onto the dance floor. The shrewd guardsman felt both he and his old sparring partner from the Forest should give the King some space in this crowded ballroom to absorb all the mumbo-jumbo just laid on him. And then maybe stubborn Prince Agnarr would have the chance to reflect on the village chief's words of how he should address Elsa about this touchy situation he had gotten himself into.

"Keep her heartlight burning strong…" Agnarr mumbles to himself as he, looking like an overdressed waiter and feeling like a fool, carries the two small plates Eliana and Olaf had supplied him with towards the quiet Conservatory. The Eternal King of Norway's costume real chain mail clinking sounds were nowhere as loud as his rustling, clearing thoughts, just awakening, though his eyes were blurred…


Minutes ago, on the other side of the castle in the palace Conservatory…

Feeling hot and bothered with the need for some refreshing cool winter air, Queen of the North Winter Elsa had easily opened the full-length window earlier with a flutter of her cryokinetics before drifting back to a fretful sleep on the crushed velvet settee.

Little did she know that someone in the early darkness was just at this moment scaling the exterior heights of Arendelle Castle from its lighthouse, to stable roof summit, to main Palace building like a stealthy cat wagering all nine lives through the icy, bracing cold winds.

The fearless, dexterous young man was driven by the one force in all the world even greater than the deadly reality of gravity that he had been bravely defying for the past exhilarating half an hour.

True Love for his Queen.

A drive that was far greater to Hans Westergaard then any dangerous climb, or the thought of confronting the girl's intimidating father who just happened to be the naval Admiral whom Prince Hans was under service of.

Slow and steady wins the race, right, Hans? Then why do I feel this overwhelming sense of urgency to seize the moment and take my Elsa soon? Are my male hormones that much not in check to cloud my better judgment? I promised to wait a lifetime for you, my Queen. I firmly do not believe love is some ephemeral vapor that ancient tomes erroneously referred it to. The real sentiment one holds in the heart is a deep and abiding passion that could last two people into Eternity. So what's another year and a half on our timeless journey, min kæreste? I have been willing to be steadfast and patient before. What has changed in the interim?

Maybe it was that desperate look in your eyes last we met, begging me to be here for you on your special day after that ordeal… Or perhaps all of those… ahem gentlemen ahem - your father quite un-chivalrously invited to your Masquerade Party, no doubt tossed in your path to usurp my right as your betrothed …

Keep cool and collected, Westergaard… Yes, I am taking a deep breath, thinking very, very composed, calm thoughts, Egalité, just as we discussed…

POUND!

But Hans' red hot temper ventures to angrily smash a frustrated fist into the snow capped wrought-iron rail, leaving a ding in it with his real metal gauntlet. Then the vexed prince slings his lean body over its pointed ledge to shimmy and abseil with a rope down to the Conservatory window below as if by second nature.

Pondering these emotionally charged, weighty thoughts at this high-altitude dark and wintry cold night was probably not the best of ideas. But it felt good to blow off some steam and give the irked young man a sense of stress release out here in the wide open outdoors before the civilized Prince would have to encounter anyone inside the Castle.

Hans Westergaard had self-trained his tight, well-exercised form from an early age of three or four years to scale Egeskov Castle's tall spires. Those lean years were when the lonely, forgotten, unwanted outcast conditioned himself to be extremely balanced and acrobatic for tightrope walking to fearlessly scale the high story stone tower castle of his family, as if by rote.

"Damn!"

Presenting suitors behind my back! How wholly Machiavellian underhanded, sly and deceitful, Admiral Bernadotte! I am shocked and disappointed.

After one last punching fist to the Castle's stone exterior to vent his frustration – most of which were directed at Elsa's kingly father – Prince Hans fights hard to return to maintaining his cool, affable, self-possessed persona again.

"I'm all right now." He whispers to the chilled winds that seemed to be laughing at him with their cat-call howls.

Night is falling, so I must focus on keeping my promise see my beautiful Elsa and wish her the happiest of birthdays. No matter what obstacles others throw in my way, I will never shirk any of my duties or commitments to her for as long as I live.

Prince Hans' chameleon mentality often extended to having split-personality conversations with himself as he abandons his role as jealous lover to once again become dutiful officer of this kingdom.

If it was solely my decision, I would have immediately gone through the proper channels and addressed the Admiral with my honest verbal request to visit with my fiancée prior to our agreed-upon two-year reunion date. He probably would have concurred, since circumstances beyond my control had propelled that timeframe forward. However, between Egalitè, Varian, and even Prince Alonso's advice and counsel with their well plotted offer of this covert and daring maneuver at the Masquerade Ball, I have been mildly swayed that my preferred direct approach may not be the most advantageous method to ingratiate our matrimonial timeframe dilemma with her father.

I've consented to this mild subversion to your naval order and paternal authority, King Agnarr, solely because it is my Elsa's birthday. And any disturbance between that tender lady and yourself would cause her undue distress tonight. As Queen Elsa's future caretaker and defender, I would never want to hurt my Angel after all she has been through lately, particularly on her day of days.

Still, I feel compelled to keep my promise to both yourself and your father, Elsa. In so doing, I must see you and explain all my apprehensions, my love. I will abide by your opinion entirely, for you mean the world to me, min elskling (my darling)…

LEAP!

With that motivating sentiment, Prince Hans, wearing a stylish Black Knight Prince Philip silver armored outfit that fashionable Ferdinand Egalité had prescribed for this sleek Dane, silently slinks his slender, wiry form in through the partially open Conservatory window.

He had been informed by Varian, who was told in a note from Owl, sent to him by Lady Cassandra, who had been updated by Princess Anna while the latter was forcing the former to costume up – that Elsa was in the Conservatory of the Castle.

The Queen was said to be resting quietly alone after an overwhelming confrontation with throngs of princes this morning.

How dare those men upset your serene beauty?! If I were there at the breakfast table, I certainly would have kicked their #$!%!–!

Almost losing it as he sees red while envisioning the unpleasant scene, in gentlemanly edited cursing, a jealous Hans clenches his fists silently this time. He takes a deep breath and stands in the curtain's shadows, forcing his rigid intellect to control his short temper's emotion.

Prince Hans' stoic quietude had been frayed after all the reports and his own intuitive suspicion of the dubious intentions of various young and eligible royal princes from all parts of the world said to be gallivanting around Arendelle Castle, free roaming its beauteous surroundings.

Speaking of beauty… Entering the still, quiet Conservatory, the stealthy Prince of the Southern Isles squints his eyes to adjust from the bright moon he had been climbing under to search inside the dimly single candelabra lit room.

At least that was Prince Hans' first impression of the aura pulsating from the general direction of the burgundy settee's back to him at the window.

Elsa? Are you in here?

His breath caught in his throat, svelte Hans quietly moves without a sound in his silver armor and red satin cape through the quiet Conservatory towards the purple iridescent glow. The Dane considers how these radiant lights rivaled the unlimited hues of the aurora borealis as he carefully makes his way around the tall backed couch to view its occupant more clearly.

And there she was, in all her glistening exquisite, stunning splendor. His Elsa, so magnificent and gorgeous in her off the shoulder tight-fitted, deep violet bodice and flowing purple long satin skirt that trailed impressively with its many gores across the carpeted Conservatory floor.

And yet, the platinum blonde was elegant and delicate as well, accented in a soft lavender glow surrounding her so very tender and sweet face in peaceful slumber.

Just viewing her made eloquent Prince Hans speechless from where he was standing over his beautiful Elsa's distinct shimmery radiance. He marvels at how she, even in her sleep, channeled the Northern Lights as the Queen of the North Winter now with a serene command that caused the Danish Prince to feel that he was taking part in a fairytale dream of old…

My Sleeping Beauty…

Cutting a figure as quite a dashing hero himself from that selfsame timeless legend, Prince Philip the Black Knight Hans kneels down in his armored warrior uniform to lay a red rose he had brought from the masquerade prop room upon Elsa's slumbering, heaving bosom.

And the little vanity left in the Dane could not help but puff with pride to spy his profile likeness' artisan ivory shell carved cameo pinned on the inside of her off the shoulder bodice right over her left hand breast's heart.

You are still true to me…

He pauses for several seconds to take in his Queen's incomparable majesty.

Prince Hans soaks in Elsa's pale alabaster cheeks, as if dusted with a fuchsia blush so soft and demure, it was if they were delicately crafted of velvet petals. Her platinum hair was so glistening and flaxen like silk where it lay in that long silky braid against her perfect sleeping bosom that rose and fell with breaths so short and shallow, that by now, Hans felt mesmerized.

And her lips…

Ah, her glistening lips were as red as that rose and looked so very moist and inviting on her flawless pale face of sumptuous beauty, how could he not indulge in tasting their sweetness?

Ensconced in the hushed wonder and storybook romance of this irreplaceable moment he had only dreamt of before, Hans wordlessly hovers over his Sleeping Beauty as her 14th century Knight errant and she his Princess fair begging to be awakened by true love's kiss.

Forgetting all their real-life problems and putting the mundane issues such as jealousy and duty and fear aside, Prince Hans had the overwhelming urge to lean down to her slumbering, pristine face and break the magic spell so their fairytale rendezvous could be fulfilled…

...I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. Yet I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you'll do. You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream...

When the Prince's gentle lips press down tenderly against this Princess Aurora's soft ones oh-so-tentatively pure, the dreamy young woman begins to stir in response to her fantasized lover's innocent caress.

The Ice Queen's tingles of ice once again pervade the Danish Prince's every sense as even a drowsy, involuntary Ice Queen's innate ice magic penetrates the touch of his skin to hers until his handsome face shades from its natural freckled ruddiness to an ashen white to the palest frosty blue.

But instead of drawing back as any sane human would, the undaunted redhead presses on in his eager greeting kiss with all the passion he had pent-up for months apart from his beloved fiancée, Never mind the desperation through fear of the danger that they had recently experienced together.

So urbane and dashing in his Renaissance Prince Black Knight costume, an enraptured Hans encapsulates Elsa's intoxicating, slender form to his. The Prince of the Southern Isles' warm passion overwhelms her unconscious cold in the aurora streaked darkness.

On one knee, the knight's arms and hands and mouth hungrily envelop his Elsa's to unyieldingly fulfill so many reveries of their fantasized reunion, once upon a dream.

"Happy birthday, my beautiful Princess Aurora. Your Black Knight is here, as promised." Barely coming up for breath, Hans huskily mouths these few words in his Sleeping Beauty fairytale Princess's slumbering ear. He revels in her dreamy smile that unmistakably reacted positively to his advances, moaning languorously as indication she longed for more.

So an aroused Hans' eager lips capture Elsa's again, as the intoxicating rising body heat versus the chilly night air from the nearby open window sweeps over both the wistful dreamers...


His eyesight may have been failing him and his frayed nerves left his temper short, but the King of Arendelle truly had the good intention to make this special night a happy one for his eldest child.

And the words of Northuldran Chief Yelana in conjunction with Agnarr's dearest friend Mattias were sinking into his mind.

No, better yet, his chilled heart.

Agnarr previously had been trying to convince himself that Elsa could find a suitable husband from the prestigious group of fine young princes she would be introduced to tonight during this ridiculous Masquerade Ball of mystery Iduna and Anna had dreamed up.

And yet the shadow of that Dane remained palpable in the air everywhere he turned.

Perhaps, as I've been learning, that is for the best…

"Oh-oh! How do I look? Is it on straight, Eliana? Did I spell her name right this time?! Can you light the candles that went out in my hat, Elsa and Anna's Papa? I can't reach them without burning myself, but I want to look my best when we open the door to surprise Elsa! And all the candles must be lit to do it properly, but my branches and Eliana's still aren't good with fire! Did you know it has something to do with the especially combustible nature of pine, spruce, and balsam wood? Brr! So we don't touch it!" Chuckling with his usual inane, now educated prattle, Olaf had put on - over his Friar Tuck hair fuzz - that extra large and gaudy birthday hat Anna had picked out from Oaken's bazaar on her birthday a few years back. It had been sitting decoratively on the table in the hall with its sunflowers redecorated to be purple crocuses with the letters Olaf had repainted as 'E L S A' instead of 'A N N A'.

"Yes, yes, Olaf. Bring it here." Peevishly interrupted by such silly frivolities, a patronizing King Agnarr gives in to the innocent-eyed snowman's wishes. Agnarr pauses in his swift stride towards the quiet Conservatory door where his ice power could almost feel his similarly gifted daughter had just awoken within.

"Ja, hon leva (Yes, she lives today!)!" Blissfully unaware of the King's anxiousness, Olaf starts to practice the Swedish birthday tune set to Hayden's jaunty 'Sunrise' Queen Iduna had specially taught he and Eliana on the ride back to Arendelle a few days ago. Olaf prompts Eliana to join in the choral round they planned to sing to Elsa upon throwing open the door.

But as King Agnarr had used the swift servant produced taper from a nearby fireplace to light the doused candles on Olaf's fanlike, off-balance headdress, a sudden gust of wind extinguishes another candle or two before he could accomplish it to be fully lit.

It was as if someone had purposely blown out the candles again.

"Oh no. Olaf! Now three more have gone out! You have to light them quicker, your Majesty!" Bossy Eliana explains from beneath her more tidy and elegant Middle Ages Maid Marian veil.

What? Trick candles? I am not amused. The frustrated older man had already turned back to place his hand on the doorknob of the Conservatory again when he felt a sudden gushing breeze on his back. But upon finding no other human being in the quiet Great Hall, save for only the eyes of the paintings – and a certain statuette - staring back at him in the subdued candlelight, Agnarr lets out an impatient sigh.

"Now don't move too fast, Olaf." An annoyed Agnarr reuses the other side of the taper he had up ended in a potted plant they had passed to again light all thirteen candles over the dizzy snowman's disturbingly bald pretense of a Friar Tuck ring of hair costumed head.

"Yeah! You open the door, Papa, and we can all sing 'Ja, må hon leva, it's your birthday!' to Elsa!" Olaf joyously whispers after Eliana shushes her bouncy boisterous boyfriend before he ruined the surprised moment for their dear creator girl.

WHOOSH!

But another uncanny breeze whizzes by them in the windowless Great Hall gallery of paintings directly over Olaf's now numerously de-flamed candle hat.

"Who dares –!?" Now the King was becoming genuinely irritated at this whole supposedly comical situation.

"It's a birdy!" Olaf sings, pointing upwards and swiveling his head totally around 270° to dizzily follow the erratic flight path of the Strigiforme flying above. After a missed ice shot or two from the semi-blind Ice King, the wily brown and grey owl with the startling thick black eyebrows was street smart enough to stick close to the valuable old paintings of the Masters Agnarr was cautious to lay a volley of frost-shot in the direction of.

"Who! Who? Whoo?!" As if mocking the Ice King with his owl call, noting the gig was up that he had been fairly spotted, Captain Cassandra Schmidt's unadorned avian pet – fittingly named 'Owl' – reveals himself to flutter his brown remiges wingspan between priceless painting to priceless painting.

Owl had been the one sabotaging the little party's birthday song entrance into the Conservatory, on purpose to waylay the King's infortuitous entry.

Alchemist Varian leans over the edge of the staircase, wearing his easy change Pierrot white bodysuit clown outfit that, by some strange coincidence, mirrored that of his evil twin jester, Harlequin. It was just devoid of its red and black markings, and smirking devilish grin that was replaced by the tear in similarly clothed Pierrot's frowning, sad eyes.

"Footmen! Carefully remove that creature from the Castle! We have many important guests attending my daughter's Birthday Ball one room away. They will NOT find Arendelle Castle to be a BARN!" A bit stuffy about appearances King Agnarr indignantly throws up a fuss at the dizzying disruptive predatory bird flying around the halls just out of reach of the pair of servants who appear at the King's call wearing their breeches and white wigs.

Minister Kai wordlessly appears, directing the footmen to catch the obstreperously fractious owl after the Councilmember had heard the King and Olaf's troubled voices and the ensuing chaos of lit candles and rare paintings and sharp bird talons all coming too close to one another.

"Good job, Owl. You did your part to intercept the King for a few minutes." Replacing his sad clown face white mask over his cutie features, Varian Gutenberg pushes a remote control button. It signals to open the top down trap door to a large bow wrapped box on the Queen's expansive birthday present table just outside of the ballroom where the visitors were requested to leave their gifts.

The tricky, elusive owl the inventor boy had befriended over the years of trying to woo his way into Cassandra's heart, slyly ducks into the hidden box, right under the unsuspecting footmen's frustrated noses. Back home in his lab, Varian had trained Owl with a specialized hearing whistle, inaudible to humans. The genius boy used his handy-dandy remote to employ the whistle in the interior of the concealed present box beside the gift wafflebaker that he had brainstormed for Rapunzel's cousin, Elsa, which was enclosed inside.

"Now it's up to Rudiger to get Hans out of there before he's caught!" Varian whispers excitedly to his companion as the pair walked down the palace stairs together.

"That crazy Dane likes to tempt fate! Egocentric codfish." Prince Alonso of Córdoba comments beneath his red-feathered cap at the sailor. Alonso felt quite at home in his slim-line flattering, legendary boy-who-never-grew-up Peter Pan sage green tights and tunic outfit, that easily flattened under the duplicate Black Knight Prince outfit the Frenchman proposed for Prince Hans' daring grand scheme to visit his girl incognito through the night.

"Maybe it takes one to know one." Varian garners an indignant look from his new colleague, the narcissistic Argentine Prince who was primping at his 'theatrical grade good looks' in a mirror the two young men passed in the hallway.

Varian, who never had a thought to even glance once in the mirror and his get-up — never mind admire himself in it like a dandy — now that he was growing a real goatee - chuckles at all this romantic, party-going intrigue the scientist in him thought he would never be part of.

"Ha ha. You're a riot, Einstein. Imagine me playing some stupid fairy godmother helping some other guy get hooked up with Europe's most advantageous looker—the young and powerful Queen I was supposed to carry over the threshold? Just thinking about it gives me a migraine. Speaking of migraines…I hope Valentina doesn't catch me at this degrading insanity. It'll definitely be a humiliating Neverland hell for me if she does. If you see Princess Valentina, Varian – you won't miss her, she'll be the most ostentatious pink puff in the room – maybe you can distract her while I make a getaway into this other disguise that Ferdinand guy provided? She's determined to get her mitts into me and I don't know if I'll be able to shake her this time. Let's just get this night over with in one piece. First, let's find Elsa's mom or little sister to warn them about crazy Prince Hans Westergaard." Unaccustomed to playing a hero or even be collaborator to one, Prince Alonso rolls his eyes and holds his aching head at all the intrigue.

Varian shrugs, not understanding his innuendo at all. The studious inventor's intellectual mind was more on what his pet raccoon, Rudiger, was doing for the cause of his friend Hans' love life that Princess Rapunzel seemed to care about that she sent her best friend and ladies' maid to lend a hand. And if Cass wanted him to help too, Varian would do it, no questions asked.

The dressed to impress, unlikely pair of good-looking young men enter the ballroom to start mingling beneath mandatory masks with the many guests already assembled.

Now, not that either were looking, but where could Cassandra or Valentina be in this busy crowd of masqueraders?

Though they had volunteered (or been co-opted by that equally cracked Frenchman) to help the Danish Prince and his Norwegian Ice Queen reunite, their own clandestine relations were not entirely out of their young masculine minds beneath the masks on this promising night of mystery and romance.


Speaking of masks…

Inside the dark Conservatory the abovementioned wily raccoon had snuck across the rooftop and scurried down the Arendelle Castle window frames until he could swing himself upside down by his dexterous black and gray striped tail right into the targeted room.

His master and friend Varian had only to give the intelligent raccoon Prince Hans' scent for the woodland varmint to track down the absconded Dane. That was after Prince Hans had mysteriously disappeared while Varian and Alonso were being assigned their outfits by Ferdinand Egalité.

Fortunately, Varian's keen ears had overheard the mentally torn Prince from the Southern Isles muttering something about having to discuss a plan with Elsa and letting her decide the best course of action. So the scrambling, intrepid trio knew right where the cunning Danish Royal would be headed.

"Hmm?"

The gray furred North American immigrant named Rudiger uses his persistent paws to poke and scratch at the knee of Prince Hans until he manages to interrupt Hans and his enthusiastic fiancée's growingly passionate osculation.

And that woke up Hans just in time, too, as a light knock comes to the door of the Conservatory and it is consequently surprise opened.

"Ja må —!"" Olaf and Eliana were excited to let out the first two entrance syllables to the Swedish birthday song. But they are halted by King Agnarr's cool hands that zip both snow people's lips with a quick layer of shushing verglas ice.

"Please give my daughter and I a few moments first before your song." With a quick smile, Agnarr instructs the balloon waving, candlelit hat wearing, horn-tooting noisy pair to cease-and-desist their merrymaking so as not to startle the perhaps not yet awakened young woman on the setee.

"Are you awake yet, Elsa? You may not recognize me in these foolish trappings that your mother insisted upon, but it is I, your– damn, blast! That chair wasn't placed here ever before! – Excuse my vulgar language, Elsa. But my vision… Hehehe. You understand? Shall we start this again? Oh, I've made a pig's ear of it, haven't I? But Papa is ready to escort my birthday girl to her party." Tripping on a misplaced footstool in the darkness that the cunning masked mammal had pushed in his retreating path to slow the older man down, King Agnarr was ashamed of his coarse language before his sweet, innocent child.

Smiling apologetically, King Agnarr more sensed his like cryo-wielder near than saw her in the darkness. Though mortified, he dusts off his cape and straightens his chain mail boots as he comes closer to the settee.

Luckily for Hans, the partially blind King did not see the harried flitting exit through the window curtain of the agile young man who had been beside the divan ravishing his daughter. And that was mostly due to the fact that the swift raccoon had intrepidly pushed the tufted footstool directly in the King's path, diverting his attention cunningly.

"Hmm…? Papa? I must've dozed off again! I thought I woke up and was being kissed by –" in her muddled, hazy mind's blissful delirium, Elsa shakes her head before making any further incriminating allegations when it was most likely all just a dreamlike stupor. But she was almost positive that she had been in her handsome Prince Hans' arms, engulfed in his comforting warmth and pervasive scent, totally enraptured by his enchanting kiss…

Yet I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem…

An utterly breathless Elsa sits straight up on the divan, her hands flying to touch her extremely moist and warm lips. Her eyes cross the dark room towards the moonlit night outside the open window where she was certain she caught glimpse of a familiar shadow.

"—A troll? Anna always said she was kissed by a troll, too! Maybe being such close sisters and soulmate friends means you get to share the same dream, Elsa! Although, since you're so tall and you would have to bend over in half to a short troll, and you have a human small mouth and nose that wouldn't match a troll's big bulgy face at all, it probably would be better for you to stick to kissing JustHa –" Olaf was just about to spill the beans after his black charcoal eyes, even through the darkness, spotted his Danish friend's silhouette still lingering outside the Conservatory window.

Looking deeply towards the palace transom, Elsa then could've sworn she saw a masked flash of gray and black fur make a suicidal leap off the three-story high ledge.

What she did not see was Carpet's colorful pile fly away covertly just beneath their view with a plucky raccoon and two gorgeous young men wearing identical costumes, silently unobserved by anyone.


"Lunatic." The one sardonic masked knight occupant of Carpet smacks the back of the redhead of the other winded euphoric twin brother knight he had pulled out under the intoxicating moonlight.


But fortunately, her father's attention was distracted from the window by Anna's unexpected dash into the Conservatory. She obviously had insider information from a sad clown and flighty fantasy-land boy who sought out reinforcements earlier.

"I brought your mask, Elsa! I almost forgot it in the whirlwind of being danced off my feet with all those foreign princes!" The vivacious young ginger, proudly donning her forest hunting suit of green, complete with bargained bow but still minus arrows, comes barreling into the quiet Conservatory. Robin Hood trips over that same footstool as her father where he left the poor piece of furniture in an inadvertent ice slide when he banged into it just before.

"Whoops! Careful of the icy patch! Wow! You look amazing, Elsa! A beautiful, good amazing! Your beard is on crooked, Papa!" The joyous girl sings out, flitting around the Conservatory like said whirlwind hugging her big sister while bubbly Anna affixes the icy white bejeweled mask to her sister's surprised face. The slightly disheveled, perspiring from exertion female Robin Hood pauses to salute her stunned father as she readjusts his King Olaf's ginger beard to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Wouldn't you like to wear a lovely fairytale gown like your big sister's good example, Gingersnap? You still have time to change. This is an official Royal ball, you know, Princess." The King was flabbergasted at how unpredictable his younger daughter could be nowadays when it came to dressing up in garments not of her sex.

What am I saying? Anna was always the strong-minded one, even when she was little.

"Yep. A Masquerade Ball where people dress-up in disguises so nobody knows each other until late night unmasking. Plus it's a Birthday Party, Papa, with everyone having fun out there! So, I'm dressed perfectly! There are sooo many guests of our citizens watching in the gallery upstairs to be entertained! They don't just want see simple, normal ballroom dancing with all those distinguished people and stuffy Royal princes strutting around tonight! They'll want to see music and laughter and light, with the prettiest Birthday Queen of all!" Never to be accused of being dull, Anna lets her light shine as she squeezes Elsa's still warm fingers excitedly as she wildly whirls Olaf and Eliana around the Conservatory, never minding that they were crashing into and knocking everything down in their giddy paths.

"I trotted most of them all out already. Gotta say, none of them compare to that Red on the dance floor." Anna winks and whispers to her strangely breathless sister, rousing a big smile from Elsa as she places the silvery white mask over Elsa's heavily breathing features. Anna smirks trying to imagine what that Red had done to Elsa as she blows back the drooping feather plume in her face after a half hour of dancing with so many strangers.

"None at all." Elsa sighs dreamily, enraptured with her man whether his romantic ghostlike appearance was real or fantasized. But then cold reality of having to go out and face all those people sinks in again as she fixes Anna's feather with a little ice magic.

"Happy birthday march to the ball room time!" Trying to make the best of the inevitable, Anna shrugs and hugs Elsa tight with a 'happy birthday, we'll make it through together' wish as Olaf and Eliana take the hint and begin singing their practiced duo at last.

"Ja, må hon leva (Yes, she lives today!)!"

Then an encouragingly smiling Anna takes the lead of waving the balloons and candles to light the birthday girl's path to the ballroom she was forging ahead.

"And so, shall I now have the honor of escorting the birthday young lady to the ball where so many guests and well-wishers all wish to meet you and celebrate your special day with us? I don't know how this dilapidated, unworthy old man could deserve to be father of such an elegant beauty. You are the picture of poise and grace in that gown, my Snow Angel, reminding me so much of your attractive Mama at that age." Humble to be so fortunate a father and husband, the nervous King gently plants a kiss at Elsa's forehead as he assists the delicate young woman seated on the plush setee up to her feet.

Close up, the King did notice his daughter's flushed crimson cheeks and glazed eyes that were repeatedly gazing towards the open window, looking more like a caged bird wanting to fly free instead of accompany him into the guest filled Arendelle ballroom.

I know how Papa worries about me… About us, Hans. He doesn't understand how much you've changed. How much you love me. Papa only wants what's best for my future…my kingdom…my marriage, wanting me to make a proper royal match with a man I can trust for a lifetime and more…

That man I know is only you, Hans...

"Elsa, before we do go in. Please, may I say I am so heartily sorry to have upset you earlier, particularly on your birthday? Can you ever forgive your terrible father for not considering your feelings? That seems to be my constant failing, eh? I only mean the best for you, but somehow I always end up doing everything wrong, don't I? I know I am such a faulted man who doesn't remotely deserve the wonderful family God has blessed me with." The Ice King paces back-and-forth upon further entering the room that had decidedly dropped several degrees in temperature during the short time of their conversation. But luckily neither ice wielder was bothered by the cold anyway.

"Oh, Papa. You don't do everything wrong! 'Forgiveness' the Lord says is even more than 'seventy times seven', correct? So, even between us, we're not close to that many mistakes yet." With a laughing smile of tenderness and Matthew 18:22 Biblical Scripture truth to back her up, she sniffles away her wiped tears. Then Elsa touches her father's cold shaking hands to steady them as she invites him to sit next to her on the setee.

"Just say the word and I will send them all away, my precious girl. If you do not wish to even hold this lavish Ball your mother and Anna have planned, I will cancel it, if you so desire, Elsa. We can have that small family birthday celebration we always have dreamed of, if you'd like that better. Just tell me, my Snow Angel. It's your birthday, my darling, so I will do everything to make it right, make it special for you and not mess up another day for my precious daughter." King Agnarr whispers his pledge, genuinely remorseful and authentically apologetic in his heart for any distress his rash decisions once again caused his child.

"No, Papa. As you said, they are our guests. After all, they are each representatives from foreign kingdoms we should be making peaceful treaties and not give cause for discord between our nations. I rested all this afternoon before the Masquerade Ball tonight so I can be as wide awake and at my best to serve our people's best interests now. Together, Papa, as a family we will give our nation an unforgettable night to celebrate not only my birthday, but the God-granted victory of our country over the lonely darkness that must make us all proud." Elsa's trust, encouragement, nobility, empathy, righteousness, inspiration, truth and yearning all clearly spell out the virtuous Tenerity in her heart that was no longer afraid to open up to her beloved father who was still struggling to find that peace in himself.

"Oh, my Elsa. Someone I just talked to was so very right. You are the one true ruler that this nation deserves. I am so proud of you." King Agnarr squeezes his daughter's delicate yet strong hands in his.

Agnarr's eyes, still clouded, able to clearly see the brilliance of the aurora borealis gleaming beautifully, from the iridescent heels of her radiant shoes to the glistening folds of her multihued gown, to Queen Elsa's true blue reflective orbs filled with sparkling hope and love for the future as she stands.

"If you truly are not ready for this, Elsa – if you wish me to send those young people away, my darling, I will comply without a qualm, formalities be damned. Pardon me. Then we can spend some quiet quality family birthday celebration time instead. I sincerely want what is best for you, Elsa, and I never want to upset you again, my precious girl. Although, that does appear to be this heedless, haphazard man's reoccurring failing." The remorseful King, while he had been entertaining the septet of foreign princes all afternoon, had been regretting his clumsy attempt at royal matchmaking with the memory of the shocked, frightened and almost disappointed look in his daughter's eyes that were avoiding his most distinctly since that disastrous breakfast.

Perhaps this all comes too soon after your recent tribulation, Elsa. You need some more time and are not ready to consider opening your heart to anyone as your potential mate – which is fine by me. Or maybe it is because you've already set your heart on that one dream Prince...

"Oh, Papa! You're not a failure, by any means. I know you want what is best for this kingdom and what's best for me. So I mustn't shirk my duties as your daughter, nor as Queen of Arendelle when it comes to being able to meet and negotiate with other countries and our neighbors to forge good and lasting friendships between our nations." Forcing a smile, Elsa shakes her head in the mirror that she had been re-braiding (how did it get in such ruin?!) her mussed platinum blonde hair in the mirror Mama had left on the desk for such last-minute primping.

"As a good ruler, my personal feelings must be pushed to the side. I must be as cordial and welcoming to our guests as protocol demands, especially on my birthday. As I have been trying to show you, Papa, I am no longer the child who must hide behind doors, nor gates, nor icy labyrinths anymore. So I will act accordingly, as an adult, befitting the monarch of this great nation our forefather King Olaf forged centuries ago." At the Conservatory desk, Elsa finishes combing her hair to perfection, standing to her high-heeled feet on her own to give a respectful nod to both her father in the costume of the Norwegian kingdom's proud founder he was donning.

"Spoken like the true ruler you were born to be, Queen Elsa. Or should I say, 'Princess Aurora?' Now! May I offer a stunning young monarch the arm of a humble half-blind man wishing to escort the belle of the ball to a celebration in her honor? Or is that little fellow planning on replacing me as your escort?" The father affords his child an affable joke to lighten the mood at the Sir Jorgen Bjorgen the stuffed puffin knight who had been resting on Elsa's lap when he arrived. Taking great care, Agnarr stiffly bends in his gold armored tasset, fauld and greaves to lift the black and white stuffed animal from where it had fallen and been kicked underneath the coffee table.

Considering the funny item he had scooped up from the ground, having no idea it had ever left the Castle, never mind in whose repairing talented hand it was in last, well-traveled from up to the Snow Palace in the North to the far pole in the South and back again.

In his long medieval robe and crimson cape depicting the Rex Perpetuus Norvigae, Agnarr smiles genuinely from beneath his long false ginger beard at his daughter as he dusts off the now green button-eyed yarn friend he replaces to sit on the empty setee cushion.

Sir Jorgen Bjorgen? How..?! What…?! Hans! You were here! I wasn't only dreaming…

Elsa's dutiful, yet still dampened spirits instantly liven up at her childhood knight who had been inexplicably missing since their trip to Svalbard and had now presented himself in the most romantic way, a green button eye, thicker red yarn hair, cardboard sword and all.

For now Sir Jorgen Bjorgen even more reminded her of her beloved Prince Charming who had become her continual hero in all things, as well as a good luck charm. Elsa's resigned eyes enthusiastically brighten at the surety that her daring, handsome, wonderful, steadfast and true Prince Hans was going to attend this party tonight, just as he promised to her, once upon a dream.

"No one could ever replace you, Papa." With presence of mind to still recall her current conversation, Elsa lovingly passes by the velvet cushion to finger her toy puffin's fuller red yarn parted hairdo and warmly smiles up at her parent as Agnarr notices her change in demeanor.

"But now that the gates are open, I've learned from Anna that our hearts are big enough to share more love and sunshine with more than one gallant knight. Don't you agree? So, I'll bring this little guy along, too." Some of Anna's strong-minded will and saucy phrasing rubbing off, Elsa uses her ice powers to scoop up her fearless hero of old seated upon the setee. She straightens his pale blue glove cape that had been clean pressed, runs her fingers through his tattered yarn hair reinvigorated with new strands of red mixed in with the orange, and plays with what was once a big button black eye upgraded to a shining new, iridescent green one.

The devoted father offers his arm to his lovely, intelligent and brave child to leave the Conservatory and join the Masquerade Ball already in progress.

The now smiling young woman proudly displays her most cherished childhood toy all through her lonely youth growing up to her Papa, as a sentimental Elsa tucks and ices in place a repaired Sir Jorgen - the perfect gift that only someone who loved and understood her would understand was worth more than a thousand golden necklaces or diamond bracelets – within the folds of her long purple skirt.

"No more closing the gates, my darling. Papa promises." Agnarr murmurs in her ear as the father and daughter depart arm in arm.

Adjusting her pearlescent white Venetian mask over her now excited features, Elsa sends one last, longing glance at the Aurora Borealis drenched moonlight through that open window.

The cool breeze wafting in seemed to be chanting an irrepressible melody, if sung just for the special young woman born under this incredible heavenly twinkling, twenty-five winter solstices ago, in an operatic overture of undeniable love this night:

…But if I know you, I know what you'll do. You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream…

Beneath her satin skirts, Elsa squeezes her plush puffin knight in her hand with a pleased giggle of delight that King Agnarr had not heard from his pensive little girl since she was a wee little thing.

I wonder to what do we owe this sudden change in your mood, Elsa? Nonetheless, I won't let you down, my Snow Angel. Not on your birthday.

Not ever again.


Under the stars atop the lighthouse tower of ArendelleCastle

"What were you thinking, Westergaard? After all the trouble we have gone through for your sake, were you just begging to be caught by the King, hanging around the open window where his cherè daughter was sleeping? If that clever owl and this rabid rat had not created a scene and distracted the good Admirale, I dare not think that what would have happened to you had you been caught ravishing the girl. Après nous le déluge!" Grumbling the Louis XV and Madame Pompadour's 'After us, the flood' French expression of 'a fool's irresponsible disregard for the future', an exasperated, annoyed Ferdinand Egalitè had been acquainted with many imprudent, impulsive, daring young men in his service in the Legionnaires and the French 1st Regiment Hussars who rather enjoyed walking the tightrope between intoxicating lover and irate father.

But the Frenchman never imagined that the previously sane, cool under pressure, intelligent in a crisis Prince of the Southern Isles was one such crazy fool.

Yes, we are all fools in l'amour (love), perhaps. But no one loves an imbécile.

"I cannot claim to understand what possessed me, my friend… I apologize for any nuisance I have caused, Egalitè. But seeing my Elsa lying there, so serene, so beautiful… Maybe it was the desperate melancholy upon her lovely brow, knowing it was all for me… Perhaps it was being so completely eclipsed in the dark stillness at last in this moment of peace we longed to enjoy together under the moonlight…I can't explain…just… My raw…emotion took over." Trying to reason out his inscrutable, perilous, devil-may-care actions, Hans apologizes, searching for just the right word to describe his motivation in that darkened Conservatory.

"Fou au clair de lune. (Crazy in the moonlight) It is called, as we say in the French, 'animale passionné', mon ami. As a male of the species, you were simply marking possession of what you claim to be rightfully yours." Rolling his experienced eyes at his now closest of friends, Prince Ferdinand's brow was raised in that insinuating manner. The worldly man lowers his mask to give his companion an all-knowing look before leaping his Black Knight duplicate enshrouded body from Carpet to the lighthouse peak.

Apathetic Carpet makes a staircase providing an easier descent to the bright oscillating lamplight of the naval lighthouse for a hesitant Hans to disembark. But the Danish Prince's reticence to leave the skybound magic transport was obvious.

"Animal Passion? I assure you, Egalitè, Elsa means more to me than just that! Perhaps this is all folly, to allow jealousy to drive my motive. What have I been thinking? I should not be here in Arendelle at all without my commanding officer's explicit permission. Perhaps I should return this moment to the Nidaros I am more than fortunate to be Captain of, in the China seas, and there make some recompense for my dereliction of duty in a full-length report to the Admiral. After all, I have kept my promise to Elsa, delivered my heartfelt gift, and wished the Queen of my heart a blessed happy birthday. There is nothing more I should do here, but, more wisely, rather keep to the remaining year and a half commitment we agreed to." Rambling his guilt, Hans begins making excuses to himself of why and how he should not be here any longer, not seeing the reason to persevere in this foolish venture that would jeopardize Elsa and his happy ending in the future, should he be discovered.

"Or ~ maybe you should put on your big boy pants and march down there to give that poor girl a night to remember! Where have you two been?! I understand how tough it is facing down, overprotective, argumentative, intimidating fathers versus aggravating boyfriends very well firsthand myself. They're all over the place in Corona. However, when the time comes, I would expect no less from my Varia—Okay, now I know for sure which one of you twin chess pieces is the Frenchman. My eyes are up here when I'm talking, Mister." Lady Cassandra pointedly interjects, indignantly cutting off her own sharp words under the one practically drooling Black Knight's stimulating stare down her near exposed upper torso.

The charcoal haired, tough woman had been essential in the subterfuge delivery and plotting stages of this costume quick changing scheme, considering the fact that the former ladies' maid was already on hand and readily accessible to the costume stores at Princess Anna's behest.

"Ooh, la, la, Cass-ie! To what do I owe your long red-tresses state of undress pleasure?" The Prince of the French didn't seem to notice Cassandra's admission of boyfriend as the gritty, no-nonsense handmaiden sticks her upper body through the laddered lighthouse wearing nothing more than a sparse shell like breast covering bikini that was unheard of in the modest day and age. At least above the sea by land dwellers.

"Her name is Princess Anna. She's just as idealistically headstrong and mulish as her cousin Rapunzel when it comes to making my life a total embarrassment! Look. Some of us have been working while you two were off gallivanting on that flying Carpet of yours. But it's show time now. Let's go. The party is already in full swing and the Queen is said to arrive soon. You had better get your ass moving if you don't want to disappoint, Westergaard. Those suitors are swarming all over the dance floor and are ready to pounce on your fiancée." Cassandra dismissively informs, rolling her catlike eyes at the flirty Frenchman whose fingers were just itching to reach out and stroke her long waves of red tresses. But she shakes him off and incredibly swift ducks back down the ladder and slides down the rest of the way, unmolested.

A curious Hans and Egalitè follow her speedy drop down the lighthouse tower's long crawl space that led to the stable complex and eventually into Arendelle Castle's upper floors.

"I must say, I find your spicy language, bare shoulders and titillating shells equally as arousing, mon cherie. I wish I could see more of the rest of you, though my imagination is already running wild in the darkness, as will my uncontrollable hands when I reach the bottom and I must feel my way around." As he madly climbs down the ladder, Egalitè flirts openly with the tempting woman making swishing sounds somewhere below him in the dark.

"Egalitè, 'Après moi le animale passionné'. (After me, the passionate animal.)" Amending his own French expression to toss back at his friend a friendly warning, the multi-lingual smug puppy Prince Hans athletically leans his slim, sinewy body to reach out for something with his long arms. The dexterous redhead grabs a torch hanging on the opposite stone wall, and holds it out to light the ladder to illuminate them the rest of the way.

"Mon Dieu! C'est chiant fait chier! Merde!" Swearing French expletives under his breath, Prince Ferdinand Philippe instantly shrivels back from where he, at the ladder base, was just seconds away from caressing Lady Cassandra. But now he pulls back from her as if she were poison.

"A mermaid?! Could you have chosen worse, Cassie? I still have anxieties in regards to my last encounter with those vicious erotic sirens of the sea." Prince Ferdinand rubs with disdain his less private wounds that the appalling underwater females left on his scarred psyche.

"Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea, after all, Queen Anna…" Cassandra murmurs with a covert simper, having seen the error her intoxicating fling – if you can call a single hot kiss– with the charming, roguish French Prince whom she always felt was holding something back. The hard-hitting woman had returned to her more exacting, stringent, punctual senses with some time and breathing space.

Perhaps her reunion and morning spent doctoring sick kids and old people with a certain kind-hearted, dark-haired scientist who followed her every word like a puppy dog played a role in that, too. Though boring and clinical at times, at least Varian wasn't a showman fraud when it came to his emotions. He would never push the envelope of their budding relationship until she said so.

And that's the way rigid Cassandra Schmidt preferred being in charge.

"Well. You two look ready as you'll ever be. Approximately the same height and slender build. If I can't tell you apart from a distance, knowing you're dopplegangers, then the blurry-eyed King will be confused. There're quite a few people pulling for you down there who have your back, Hans. Good luck." Cassandra encourages in her brassy sassy way, sashaying down the corridor in her wired iridescent siren of the sea aquamarine tail's swishing her tight scaly hips back and forth in an evocative manner behind her.

Ever the gentleman, despite the viperish warning that kept Egalitè firmly several paces back, skulking in the shadows, Hans quickly moves in his princely armor to assist mermaid Princess Cassandra down the remainder of the staircase.

The dashing Black Knight Prince Philip escorts this grumpy Little Mermaid into the bustling ballroom on the second floor of Arendelle Castle. There, the impressive sights, tantalizing smells and compelling sounds mesmerize the bedazzled Prince of the Southern Isles as he enters Elsa's Masquerade Ball, as if in a fairytale dream…


Haway Gieddeviola – 'Auntie Wildflower' in Northuldran Samitet

Sveler – Norwegian appetizer of toasted pancake, covered with brunost brown cheese

traje e luces - 'suit of lights' of the Spanish bullfighter

Mon dieu! – "My God!' in French


Birthday greetings, Frozen friends!

Yeah! Hans has arrived! (And he's staking his claim on his Sleeping Beauty Ice Queen! Wow-ser! That Dane's quite a kisser!)

Okay, calm down me…Wheee! (You can tell, I had a great birthday:!)

The dashing redheaded Prince of Elsa's heart is back in Arendelle and attending her Masquerade Ball at long last!

Whew! That was a close one in the Conservatory, Hansie! What were you playing at, taking liberties, ravishing your stunningly beautiful Sleeping Beauty fiancée? Just because she looks so divine, a-slumbering on her divan :) that's no reason to go all la lunatic with Papa just around the corner! (Good thing Varian, Owl, Rudiger, Egalite, Cass, Olaf & Eliana? not to mention Anna threw in some clever little diversions to detain the King and save Hans' tight knight tasset! ;)

Maybe I should call it a 'Disney themed Masquerade Birthday Ball' with all the Disneyana character costumes sprinkled in at the party! From Elsa's elegant Sleeping Beauty, Anna's saucy Robin Hood and Kristoff's beefy Hercules, I thought bringing to the party those familiar fun outfits would bring some mental eye-candy, visually recognizable Disney spice and dress-up magic to the Masquerade! Who is your favorite Masquerader so far tonight?

I know I said this was a 3-parter, and this the conclusion chapter, but the party excitement, thrilling costume descriptives and multi-layered innumerable characters got away with me! So once again, I chopped the episode in half (still 17,000 words long!) and Part 4 (really the Masquerade Ball arc conclusion, really, I'm working hard to make it so!) will be out soon!

So, please stay interested and in tune for all the romance and mystery of the Masquerade's grand finale! See you soon!

Jesus is your friend and mine, too! God bless you and all those taken ill by this terrible pandemic.

Love and health,

Haruka