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

"Frozen Again: 'Love Never Ends"

Act IX

Chapter 27

"The Cost of Freedom"

From the dozens of verdant green islands in the backdrop, each displaying swaying palm trees which dotted the Duque de Cazias on the Eastern shore; to the sandy beaches flanked by the Sugarloaf Mountain range of Pao de Azucar's breathtaking Cascatinha Waterfall; to the tranquil blue blue waters of the shimmering Baia de Guanabara, it was a gorgeous view.

The Cidade Maravilhosa (Marvelous City) was alight with all the sights and sounds of the South American continent that could be expected in bright and beautiful Brazil at the start of its vivid summer season.

The jeweled prize of the country, Paraiso, in the center of Rio de Janeiro, was renowned for its summertime beaches and nearby rainforest that made it a top vacation spot for travelers all over the world who desired a respite from their cold winters north of the equator.

That draw for tourism resulted in the capital city being more open and free to the liberal arts which one might expect from its authoritarian government's sober restrictions.

Even the slacker regulations at the beachfront weren't much enforced in Paraiso, not by the austere decency police that King Pedro, guilty himself, had instilled in his regretful latter years.

Yet more magnificent from overhead, Paraiso was dissimilar to the more staid, old-fashioned conventional interior precincts of the strict, devout Catholic country that Princes Hans and Alonso were being flung into on this most interesting journey atop the Magic Flying Carpet.


Down below, near the south slope of lush urban Corcovado and Papagaio peaks, at the edge of the Tijuca Rainforest, the hot sun blazed heavily upon the extremely overdressed and overworked, broad shouldered young man whom the lady on board Carpet pointed out down below.

Eugene Fitzherbert Przmyslid had been under heavy guard at the local Polícia de Segurança Pública in Gercavado, on the southwestern outskirts of Rio de Janeiro.

There, an armed trio of guardas (police guards) kept watch on this bright and breezy summer day. The seguranças (security patrol) had been deployed by their chief constable to assist the elderly nuns and their novices during their patriotic contribution to the national celebration.

After all, what would their beloved Princess Valentina's primavera wedding be without several hundred of her favorite pink hued and well preserved bougainvillea blossoms? They were to be artistically arranged, beautiful, and blessed by the St. Sebastian holy sisters of this county most famed for the pink, magenta and fuchsia flora that their kingdom's sweet daughter preferred more than any other.

Even if the verdant green vines that the delicately intriguing flower grew upon were replete with multiple, merciless skin piercing thorns which made their natural beauty untouchable and inopportune for the tendered fingered nuns of the religious order.

So, sadistic Comissário Contudo thought it a good plan for the delicate women to have a strapping young proxy to pluck the thorny pink blossoms for Gercavado's floral wedding presentation masterpiece.

More like a sacrificial lamb in the hot baking slaughter.

PLOP!

Eugene Fitzherbert Przmyslid a.k.a. Flynn Rider a.k.a. José Bezerra had fallen to his wobbly, overtired knees after. This man of many names had endured his thousandth prick from the spiky vines that had drawn blood from his dreadfully scratched up arms and unprotected hairy chest as he had been facing this inhuman punishment all morning and into the baking sun afternoon.

And me without any of my thirteen different types of exfoliating skin creams or five different kinds of moisturizing sunscreen oil.

"No sitting down on the job, Señor Bezerra! Back to work, you lazy muchacho!" The cruel deputy utilizes the whip which he kept to tame any wild animals that may have crept out and wandered from the nearby Tijuca Rainforest boundaries. He looses it to crack the air mere centimeters from striking the fatigued prisoner.

"All right! All right, I got it! I've got to pluck from the thorns more pretty pink flowers, on top of more pretty pink flowers for the Royal wedding. Si, Señor." The kooky grinning, mottled haired, exasperated ex-con gazes his tired bloodshot eyes up from the bloody, thorny work.

Clapped in iron fetters around his feet, mocked by the guardsmen, beneath his disguise sombrero, a filthy, mud-soaked Eugene Fitzherbert was a mess.

He had been sweating bullets under the day's blazing hot sun and had pruned his thousandth or so of the blasted pink fuchsia blossoms into the overflowing baskets that the sisters at the Church of Our Lady at São Sebastião had provided.

But the backbreaking work since early morning had taken its toll on the by now delirious, laughing man who was too hot and bothered to be able to stop chuckling to himself in a pile on the dusty rainforest ground.

So it was Providential that the thief with a heart of gold had a guardian angel – or three – looking over his burdened shoulder.

"Please, have pity on this poor sinner, my good man! We must speak to your Comissário, sir. My Sisters in Christ and I have explained this great misunderstanding to our superiors. We have brought the Reverend Mother herself to come to beg for mercy. He has endured enough ample punishment by now, already disproportionate to his minor crimes in the eyes of the church." The fluent in Portuguese, small framed, assertive nun leads in a trio of two taller and wider shouldered, but similarly dressed females of the cloth.

The three black and white habit wearing women with hands folded demurely approach the quartet of guardas implementing the hard labor punishment on this indecent 'wine farmer' from Brazil's southern wine country.

"Is it not said by the Lord in the Holy Word that we, as His followers, should 'forgive one another's trespasses' and 'turn the other cheek'?" Tall and imposing in her long white cape, though slender of frame and pale of face beneath that billowy white neck wimple, 'Reverend Mother Magdalena' was well spoken and eloquent in the local language.

The Mother Superior almost had a commanding air about her as she calls to attention every one of the guardas to give her respect with just one simple statement.

Though coarse and rough on the exterior, especially around criminals, crooks and wrongdoers, this group of Catholic seguranças (security officers) in Gercavado was reverent enough of all sisters of the sacred cloth – and Mother Superior in particular – to guiltily snap to attention.

They immediately cease their caterwauling laughter merriment at the expense of their tortured, immoral swine of a prisoner.

"Yes, yes, Sister. Ergh…Holy Reverend Mother, we will go to fetch Comissário."

Two of the guards hang their whips and then their guilty heads before they literally run away from the refined attitude of the tall and poised nun. Sister Magdalena gracefully moves towards the prisoner in her long black frock which covered every inch of her humble body devoted to God as she nods to each of the men. Then the devout Reverend Mother gives a calm, dignified smile, shared with her fellow nuns, down at a mystified Eugene.

Within seconds, the rotund, loud, extroverted Comissárioof the Polícia de Segurança Pública de Gercavado (Commissioner of the Public Security Police of Gercavado), stationed to maintain order in this Tijuca rainforest region, comes blundering out of the concrete guardhouse. The garrulous, obese man was still wiping his greasy hands on his jacket after having been eating a leg of fried chicken inside.

"Peace and God's blessings be with you, my son." The tall and elegant, in-charge holy Sister, with a stately bow and gentle smile peeking out from her starched white face coif, blesses the disheveled Chief Comissário of the local police branch of the Palace guard.

The rotund, large-set man had obviously been eating his lunch and still had a gravy-stained bib tied around his bearded neck as he gives a bow to the demanding eyed religious leader who had requested his audience.

"And peace be with you as well, Holy Mother." Comissário Félix Contudo was normally a rude and unsophisticated character. But because these were nuns, he felt forced to be magnanimous. He transforms his normally brutal character to give somewhat a stiff gentlemanly bow to the Reverend Mother and her novices who had come to visit his modest establishment.

"What is it this humble officer of this humble rural Policia station, in his humble little corner of the country can do for you on this fine summer day, holy Mother?" In his thick accent, Comissário Contudo offers his services gallantly with a sweeping bow before the tall, strikingly imposing sister of the religious order.

"Why thank you for your attentive generosity, my son. I know you are a busy man, so I will come right to the point. After this confused situation was explained to me, I have come to beg for your benevolent mercy in respect to this misguided prisoner. He is a sojourner in our area, and may not understand our severe laws. Any visitor during this happy week of celebration surely deserves the goodwill of our kingdom, especially at this time of joy. After all, the Lord looks kindly upon the tender heart of humility, more than a harsh one full of vanity. Does He not, Sister? Do be sure to say an extra Hail Mary on your rosary for this kind Policia Comissário for taking audience with us." In a lyrical, high-pitched, saccharine sweet voice, Mother Superior had noticed in the corner of her watchful green eyes that one of the other more flirtatious, hungry-for-any-female-company in this lonesome outpost soldier guards had sidled up to the wide-eyed and disinterested looking fellow 'Sister' named 'Alanza'.

The guardsmen had boldly offered to show the brown-eyed nun the beautiful outskirts of the rainforest on his arm, though the nun was none too inspired to do so.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Ahem – cough-cough - I mean, oh, of course, Mother Superior." The uptight nun responds in a similar, high pitched but raspy voice as she stumbles to pull out of the man's grip. Her rosary now in her hand claps across his arm painfully after the third smaller framed nun had pointed to Alanza where the wooden black beads with the cross was at her belt fold.

"Why is it I have never seen any of you three very remarkable holy sisters before? I always believed that here in this far corner of our beauteous rainforest, my men and I were acquainted with all the holy sisters who went on pilgrimage to the South along this road. We, as dedicated soldiers of his Majesty, Dom Pedro's crown, have sworn to protect all such saintly sojourners who travel this road on their way to the nearby Chapel." The self-important, pompous Comissário eyes carefully the three unknown nuns standing before him as they were already attending to that wastrel detainee, José Bezerra.

It was strange they were here during the middle of day's devotions, begging for leave and leniency for his one and only, current prisoner.

Although, the non-Hispanic, pale face freckled beneath that restrictive white face cowl Mother Superior, who spoke in fluent Portuguese, had a devout reverence about her deportment and carriage that was more than convincing to her holy position.

But the awkward Sister in the center who had been pacing back-and-forth was decidedly in-effeminate in gawky stance, tall build and scratchy voice, not to mention wholly lacking that unselfish, ascetic quality for such holy vocation.

The third of these holy Sisters had a small girlish frame and extremely well turned ankles that peeked out every now and then from her black and white tunic. All in all, she was quite pleasing to the dissolute Comissário's eye as the unidentified Sister was kneeling down and attending to the wounds of ridiculed José 'Bezerra'.

"What are your names, Sisters, that we may know one another better?" But the closer he wandered towards her, the more the simpering, crafty police chief felt her face in particular was strangely familiar to him.

"I am called the Reverend Mother Magdalena, Comissário. And these are my novices, Sister Alanza, and Sister Wilignatius. We are all but humble sojourners on life's journey where we must follow the Father's will to serve all His people who have gone astray. We must strive, as our Lord Jesus Christ did before us, to liberate them from their own painful oppression of sin and darkness and bring them back home to the Light of His Truth and Love." 'Reverend Mother Magdalena' responds with the blessing as she applies some healing manuka honey from a jar to the distressed prisoner's broken wounds with a metal applicator that had been attached to the cap of the sticky content's glass bottle.

"It is only through this healing balm of God's forgiving love that we can be freed, as holy vessels of His Word, Señors. Through it, we are no longer bound by the surly confines of this fallen world's names for one another, save that of the joyous title of dear 'Sister and Brother.' Apply this again after the sunset, my son." Mother Magdalena gracefully moves over to where her novice Sister Wilignatius was tending to Señor Bezerra's scratched and sunburned injuries, and hands the patient the special bottle of the miraculously healing honey.

"Yes, Sister, I am blessed to be called your Brother. But this mangy cur who disrespected your holy order earlier with his indecency is to be honored as 'your son'? You could not be thinking of dropping the charges against him? No no no no no, Reverend Mother. Look at him who broke multiple laws of this nation! He is the scum of the earth!" The large shadow of the Comissário stands tall over the collapsed prisoner on the ground, as he just refrains from spitting on the downed individual, for respect of the trio of holy sisters standing before them.

"But surely, Señor. If we, all sinners in need of mercy, as well as holy arbiters of the Lord's blessed works, convey forgiveness for a wretch such as this, could not the law of this land bend so that we might lead this lonesome sinner under the Savior's wing and into the land of milk and honey? This man's soul can be wiped clean under the unfettered palm of His gracious Hand where freedom has no end, so he too may join the sweet celebration in our kingdom." The Reverend Mother plays on the patriotic heartstrings of this raised Catholic, self-known sinner, as Flynn Rider's keen ears also prick up at this odd holy female's most intriguing choice of lofty, pious words.

A glint of hope springs to his tired eyes as he was almost certain that the spicy green eyes which accompanied the mezzo-contralto voice behind the glorious nun's costume belonged to someone he had been yearning to make an appearance.

"Yes, Reverend Mother. For your gratification, I will give this wastrel sinner a much-needed respite for the rest of the night, away from the heat and the thorns out here. Men! The holy Sisters say that the prisoner has picked enough bougainvillea blossoms for their project." The wide smile crossing the Comissário's wide face was only matched by his wide bow at the trio of holy sisters he had acceded to.

"Oh, thank goodness! They're letting you go!" With a gentle pat to his every inch aching body, Sister Wilignatius/ Wilhelmina comforts the discomforted Eugene as she dabs some of the healing herbal solutions onto his wounds and punctures that her botanist friends prescribed for her adventurous jungle travels.

"Ungh, ungh, ungh, little Sister, please allow me to finish. Prior to setting him free, the prisoner must finish his assigned punishment before he stands trial for disorderly conduct. The judge assigned to this county is presently attending the Royal wedding in Paraiso, so it will be sometime next week before his trial begins. For now, dear ladies, this indecent criminal will stay behind bars where we will take very good care of him, have no worry as to José Bezerra's fate." After those vindictive words spouted at Eugene more than the nuns, Comissário orders his guardas to drag a just-getting-back-his-second-wind Flynn into the concrete jail cells behind him.

"Hey! Wait! You can't keep him locked up here after we came all the way down to—" Self-important Sister Alanza/ Prince Alonso did not take well to being so easily dismissed after that crazy Dane Hans had lured him into joining this wild adventure into the boondocks south of Paraiso city to save the redhead's friend.

"Sister Alanza. Sister Wilignatius. We will bow to the kind Comissário's wisdom, and trust in his compassion towards this afflicted grape farmer from Serra Gaucha, whose eternal soul we will pray for tonight in Chapel. Thank you, Comissário, for hearing our entreaty. May the Lord bless and keep you." With an extremely demure bow to the Chief of the Policia de Segurança Pública, Hans subtly kicks Alonso's shin beneath their black floorlength tunics as the charmer deftly covers up for the Córdoban Prince's near gaffe that near blew the trio's incognito cover.

"Come, Sisters. We will bring further healing ointments for the incarcerated gentleman when we return later tonight to collect the floral display which we will proudly take to the Royal wedding tomorrow." In a most sweetly angelic feminine voice, Reverend Mother Magdalena/ Prince Hans links his arm into Sister Alanza/ Prince Alonso's and bows his head, urging a reticent Alonso to do the same.

Willow follows the pair of men in holy drag who were quite stylishly wearing the long black tunics draped down to their ankles like she was. In fact, she thought they looked rather convincing in their matching black and white veiled wimples as Hans leads the three nuns respectfully away.

"Where the heck are we going? Are we just gonna leave him to rot here in jail after we went to all this humiliating costumed trouble?" Alonso soon indecorously hikes up his two under skirts to race to keep up with Hans' more graceful fleet-footed steps of an accomplished performer's feminine gait.

"No. We will return later to pick up the bougainvillea floral display Eugene is working on, as stated to the Comissário." Once they were safely out of earshot, the wily Prince of the Southern Isles answers low and evenly in his masculine tone that gave comical contrast to his nun's attire. As he spoke, his green eyes were scoping the area of the jail cell of the police station that resided in the outskirts district of Rio, called Gercavado.

They each look back to trace his gaze to where the policia delegados (police investigators) were scurrying like ants to follow their demanding chief's vexed orders.

Alonso and Willow exchange a shrugged look as the three 'nuns' move out of sight and into the clearing.

"We will require the cover of darkness to liberate my Storbror from that prison, with all our identities yet unbeknownst, at sunset tonight in a few short hours." Hans rather enigmatically states in his imperious voice with a sweep of his black veil and stylish gather up of his long black skirts. Then he leaps expertly onto the back of the silver white steed a local blacksmith had lent to him earlier.

"Then we can fly back to the Paco Imperial Palace for suppertime, before anyone is none the wiser." With his current partner in crime Alonso swearing quite un-nunly as he awkwardly clambers onto the saddle of the palomino paint provided beside him, Hans watches Wilhelmina soar just above the tree-line upon a stealthy Carpet, who had been waiting at the edge of the rainforest.

Prince Hans felt strong and confident that his sneak thief brother at arms Eugene would soon find the key to his escape hidden inside the sticky, medicinal manuka honey bottle where a lockpick set had been cleverly obscured as the applicator.

Inside the provided flower baskets beneath the buntings and ribbons for the prisoner to use, there was also a dark cloak and particularly sharp pair of pruning shears for insurance during the planned jailbreak.

"That sounds more like it. My Valentine and your Ice Queen might start being imaginative about our bachelor flight to freedom if we miss another meal at the Paco Imperial just a day before the big ceremony." Alonso smirks at the titillating visual that idea brought.

"With all the wedding preparations and visitor excitement going on as the Santa Teresa was scheduled to dock this afternoon, I doubt if either of our lovely ladies would've noticed that we are even missing." Hans, on the other hand, was not as egotistical as his companion to believe that each of those independent, incredible young women would be hanging on their every word and appearance.

At least the optimist in him hoped.


A few minutes ago…

"Paraiso's jungles are a little bit bigger. Its sky a little bit wider. Its sun a little bit brighter… Its Princess a little bit…brrr…colder…"

With a pause of her strident voiced song extolling the land of her birth, Princess Valentina of Paraiso was undoubtedly striking. Her thick shock of dark black-brown hair, usually up in a high ponytail bun, had long since been let down to cascade onto her shoulders for some degree of warmth.

Valentina was still wearing her pink chiffon négligée dress that she had been on a fashion parade showing off her honeymoon trousseau to Elsa in her bedroom when they caught sight of their sweeties flying away with some unknown woman on that flying Carpet.

But the dazzling, attention-seeking young woman wondered if she made the right choice now as she was literally teeth chattering upon the Ice Queen's sled which remained mystically frozen even in Brazil's afternoon hot weather.

The proud Brazilian Princess wouldn't say it aloud, but she regretted impulsively rushing out her Palace window – literally – with Elsa and her ice magic. In a fit of jealous curiosity, impetuous Valentina insisted on investigating her one-day-left-to-marriage fiancé's unknown departure destination.

By now, her pink chiffon layered dress was so cold and frosted stiff that the tanned Princess felt like one of those sugar Princess statues her father had ordered in to create as wedding cake toppers from dozens of special bakers, in his daughter's honor to be placed on each cake piece during the Wedding Banquet.

"I don't like being so cold!" Whiny Valentina stomps her demanding foot on the slippery ice sled floor that her one and only audience either didn't hear her voice – that was strangely less faint and raspy in the cold – or she was way too preoccupied to care.

"Who exactly was that mystery woman speeding off with my Hans?" This green eyed jealousy was a new sensation for Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and her ice was certainly reacting interestingly to it.

The 85° high temperature February summer heat of the tropical rain forest outskirts were doused by the Queen of the Winter's raw untapped emotions. But still in control, Elsa was doing all she could to not fractally implode as she had stewed these past hours in slow freezer burn.

The little envious part of her mind kept tormenting over her Prince Hans leaving her high and dry and rushing off into the sunset of this foreign soil with some strange dark-haired hussy the well-travelled man may have previously known in this port, as all sailors were famed for.

"Elsa! Earth to Elsa! Are you hearing me, girlfriend? I know how intense a possessive love can be myself. But if we're going to be proper brides – like I am tomorrow! No pressure! – we just have to get a grip on our jealousy! It can't be that hard for we elegant beauties to be married to a man, right? Most women don't mind it. And those handsome fellas must know by now that they are beyond lucky to have landed such phenomenal prizes in beauty, grace, and accomplishment! You needn't worry. They would be fools to trifle with us, on the eve of my respective marriage. So, let us try some breathing exercises instead. In. Out. Doesn't that feel better already?" More wound up and uptight than jealous really, narcissistic, self-possessed Princess Valentina may not always have been the most levelheaded voice in the room. But she had, since her stress-related illness, been successfully trying to find ways not to freak out, the closer the hour of her impending wedding drew near.

"Pretty sure we passed that spot like five times, where my Alonsy and your Hans and that mysterious woman had left their Magic flying Carpet at the side of the road. We're going around in circles, girlfriend. That looks like a nice place to take a break and rediscover our serenity." She takes that deep breath to calm herself, as she had been reading to do from her deceased mother's wise writings.

Then, a smiling Valentina was able to point her trembling finger down from her ice sled conductor's nonstop ride towards a little cross erected over a tiny little church still below.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Valentina! It's been much too cold for you all this time up here, hasn't it?! I'm a terrible friend!" Her frosted blue blurred vision clears enough for Elsa to follow her traveling companion's gesture down towards the little church at the roadside. There, the small Christian outpost's holy Cross symbol gleamed up at them almost like of beacon of revealing light through the thick rain forest canopy.

"You're wrong, Elsa, you're an amazing friend. One of my dearest. Actually, it's funny to say. But your cold seems to soothe my throat, miraculously making it not so hard to speak. But I won't lie. The rest of me is frigid solid. Now I know what it feels like to be an Ice Princess. Promise me, Elsa, that you'll hit the Paraiso beach early in the morning tomorrow before the wedding, so you can experience my world as a Beach Princess, too." The Brazilian Princess had come a long way from that self-centered spoiled brat, as she sincerely gives Elsa a smile and sisterly hug with the friendly invite.

"Of course I'll go with you! Poor Valentina! You're still shivering. Let's go down there and get inside to warm you! We'll see if there's any priest cloak or nun's clothing left in the sacristy that you may be able to wear over that thin night dress." Unable to offer any piece of her own clothing that was not fashioned of frozen ice, Elsa compassionately smiles back to her headstrong friend. After all, it was Valentina who impetuously ordered her to create the ice slide and give chase to their departing young men before the dark-skinned beauty had properly dressed the part of high-flying adventuress.

Gale and Bruni should have been here to conjure me up a warm breeze for Valentina. But even the elementals have apparently abandoned me…

A pucker-lipped and perplexed Elsa lands her ice sled on terra firma and escorts Valentina while trying to stabilize her trembling cold, blue lipped, recently ill friend. The Brazilian Princess' still weak, scratchy voice was finally in remission from its spasmodic coughing fits which it had reverted to at the onset of this unexpected anxiety for her young man's fidelity.

Elsa felt guilty herself for harboring this worry too, when she knew she knew better after all they'd been through. The platinum blonde beauty regretted this all-encompassing jealousy in her heart that should have learned the lesson of utmost trust in her man by now.

Even an inexperienced in these matters 5th Spirit of Harmony has some off-days to her serenity. I see I still have to work out a few more of these new emotions by our spring solstice wedding date, min alskare. Elsa stops her speeding ice sled to make a landing near the small Chapel that served mainly as the holy sisters' rest stop and changing station near the edge of the rain forest.

Valentina's right about being jealous. I will trust you, Hans. Heh heh heh. I suppose now I know what my poor darling has had to endure, between rumors, reports, and insinuations of all those suitors throwing themselves at me…

Elsa chuckles at the recent memory of that magnificent Birthday Ball a few short months ago where she was danced across the floor by so many foreign princes her Papa had invited that her head was left spinning.

And the best part of it was that her thought-to-be-thousands-of-miles-away, gallant Prince Hans had come to Arendelle, against orders and probability to triumph over his jealousy with his love.

Not to mention sweep his besotted Ice Queen off her feet as Hans Westergaard dared to take Queen Elsa in his arms with the audacity to propose marriage to her all over again.

To think that I've kept you waiting all this time since then without setting a tangible date to put your mind at ease?! No wonder you're rushing off from me! Dear Lord, forgive this silly girl's jealous mind and please give me the strength tell my darling Hans all that is really in my heart for him, next we meet. Please give me a warm heart to deserve his sincere offer of love.

While quiet and hushed in the still atmosphere inside the Chapel, as compared to the loud cacophony of wildlife in the outdoor nature reserve close by, Elsa and Valentina each make the sign of the Cross before entering into the tiny one-room outpost Chapel of the Holy Order of St. Sebastian nuns.

The self-conscious blonde beauty felt a little indecent in her low-cut Ice Queen outfit and had instantly transformed into her more conservative, less revealing deep blue snow velvet gown immediately before going to pray at the empty altar beneath the heartbreaking depiction of Jesus at Golgotha's Calvary.

Too absorbed in her own thoughts and prayers, Elsa contents herself to search for a cloak or robe of some sort in the changing room behind the altar for Valentina. She did not notice in the dim light that she was sifting through some articles of men's clothing.

That included a certain velvet navy blue jacket whose material was rather familiar to Elsa.

The attentive young woman normally would have taken note of it, had her purposeful search for her shivering friend not soon discovered a long dark hooded cloak there on the tabletop as well. Elsa was sure she had seen the black cloak before in that fleeting glimpse belonging to the woman flying away on the back of Carpet.

As she waited in the pews for Elsa to return from behind the altar vestibule with some kind of warm, covering fabric, Princess Valentina, she too was in a fairly scandalous outfit by the strict church and state moral code where she sat, was left contemplating her impending wedding in a day and a half's time to her chased after Prince Alonso of Córdoba.

She had been battling during all the chilly airborne hours, the natural urge to get cold feet, especially recalling her own parents' arranged marriage and how that turned out unhappily ever after, soon after her birth.

But I'm the one who arranged my own marriage to my own choice of Prince! Can I help it if he is the perfect match for my kingdom, too? So, our lives together should turn out to be a storybook romance. Right?

Elsa, wearing the white, high neck collar of a nun to modestly cover her own exposed shoulders returns to the chapel and places a nun's half cape and scapular apron over Valentina's shivering torso. Then the tall blonde then kneels at the altar to pray.

Just like Mama taught Anna and I when we were little and in need of a little forgiveness or guidance.

With warm veil pulled tight around her distressed head, desperate Valentina surprises Elsa and herself both with what she does next. The haughty Princess gives her friend a wordless, tearful tight hug before she deferentially kneels in fervent prayer at the altar beside Elsa under the beatified engraving of the arm stretched out, peaceful Mother Mary.

Please, please, please, Holy Mother Mary, intercede a blessing for my Alonso and I to find happiness and keep our love shining bright through the years.

The two young women had both been so devoutly knelt in deep soulful prayer that neither noticed the small Chapel door creak open just then.

Not until there were the trio of nuns standing in blinked shock directly behind them.

"Reverend Mother, Sisters! My sick friend and I are travelers who were grateful to find your doors open as we stopped by to rest and pray in your Chapel. Please excuse us for borrowing some articles to cover our inappropriate clothing, and for taking such liberties uninvited." Apologizing profusely, Elsa, for some reason was not shy whatsoever with these particular holy ladies, as she stands from the altar steps to turn and greet the incoming trio of strangers.

The Norwegian Queen takes a step towards the strangely petrified sisters who were glancing between each other at the lovely pair of young women at the altar as if they were apparitions.

Strangers…?

Although bewildered, as the respectful young woman and representative of their nation her Papa taught her to be, Elsa tried to be humble and grateful to the South American holy women. She instinctively apologized and thanked them for utilizing their place of worship's hospitality as she was reverent to the devout servants of the Lord in this land foreign to her.

But something in the tall Mother Superior's green viridescent eyes piqued her curiosity to look further into the nun's cautious face.

And not just the eyes. It was the tall, intelligent head nun's shape of mouth, the high proud cheekbones of her pale face, that exquisite celestial nose and little peek of red hair escaping from the black and white coif veil which caused bells to chime in Elsa's head.

That was a Sjoforsvaret officer's jacket I saw in the sacristy!

"Hans Westergaard!" Elsa pauses mid step towards this all too familiar 'Mother Superior'. Her shrill voice exclaims so loudly that it echoed through the small silent Chapel as she claps a hand over her squeakily uncouth mouth.

"What gave me away, min hviddue?" Ever the actor, a teasing Prince Hans flutters his eyelashes and then smirks as his talented voice switches in modulation from feminine Reverend Mother's sweet alto into his normal suave princely masculine tenor.

But the skilled at pretense performer completely had a speechless Elsa fooled as he smoothes with tender fingers her regal white high neck collar at her neck.

"So I see we men are not the only ones who were playing holy dress-up masquerade, my pretty Valentine." With a tickle to Valentina's chin beneath the veil coif and wimple Elsa had loosely placed on her chilled friend's head in a best attempt for warm hat, Prince Alonso totally blows his 'Sister Alanza' disguise that was not as jaw-dropping persuasive as his best actor buddy Hans' role as 'Reverend Mother Superior Magdalena'.

"Alonso Ricardo! What are you doing wearing that awful nun's clothing!" Choking out in a coughed whisper, weak voiced once again Valentina was not as amused as a smiling from ear to ear Elsa seemed to be to see her man cross-dressing as a holy sister.

Perhaps that was because awkwardly effeminate Alonso didn't make a very convincing nun as his consummate lead actor friend did with feminine airs and graces aplomb, complete with the winning voice-over that the Córdoban Prince considered beneath his dignified talent to even try to assimilate very well.

"Don't ask me, Valentine. Ask Mr. Genius Strategist Westergaard here." Alonso's twists his lip as he thumbs back at Hans while gladly stripping from his nunly veil. He chucks over his tunic in a very unladylike manner to the floor to reveal his normal male clothing, only minus his signature black and gold high neck bullfighter jacket which the third novice went to fetch from the back room sacristy clothing for Alonso and Hans both.

"If it was up to me, I would have simply revealed who we were instead of all this silly cloak and dagger charade stuff. We should have simply declared a Royal pardon for that troublesome Pryzmyslid guy and be done with it." A frustrated Alonso says, rolling his brown eyes with his advice while fluffing his gorgeous coif back to its proper shape in the shiny silver dedication plate where the Communion hosts were to be served.

The vainglorious Prince winks at his own once again sharp reflection that never tired of staring back at him.

Why ever try to costume this? It's perfection.

"And if we did, how would we then have explained who we were to that tough Comissário without him reporting us to the local authorities here? That would have gotten my nephew Eugene in major trouble with my brother-in-law King Fritz for messing up relations between our countries! Your Prince Hans did the right thing, Elsa." Backing up the winsome Vise Admiral's decision to pull out, Princess Wilhelmina too removes the white coif wimple veil from her head.

With a liberating shake, Aunt Willow reveals her freed longtail brown braid that was similar to Elsa's single thick platinum one.

"Hello at last, little lady! I finally get to meet my infamous Ice Queen niece in person! Ooh, how you look just like your mom when she first came to us! That quiet, enigmatic smile, those exotic eyes, so deep and full of magical mystery. Just not the blonde hair. Everyone's a brunette on our side of the family. Must be from that finicky Bernadotte end of the family tree. Oh Elsa, your mom was such a wild thing growing up! And hard to keep a hold of, in her sheer determination to catch her man. Not as wild as me, perhaps, but we kept poor Ari hopping growing up. Ah, that brings back memories! I see you're keeping a tight rein on your fella. That's probably a good idea, in my experience. Actually, I have practically no experience in lasting romantic entanglements to speak of. Your Mama's the expert at long suffering distant love at first sight kinda thing. So cancel any advice for your favorite MIA auntie, sweetie." Talkative due to her loner explorer career that often left her solitary for weeks on end, Princess Wilhelmina could not contain her enthusiasm to finally meet her adopted sister Iduna's eldest child whom everyone has been talking about yet not allowed to be talking about since forever.

"Um… Thank you so much? It is nice to meet you as well, Aunt Wilhelmina. Mama would sometimes tell us about your exploits as a world-famous explorer when Anna and I were little girls." Elsa smiles down at her small framed explorer relative while her laughing eyes were carefully watching her red-faced, handsome fiancé in the long black and white nun costume blush under her arctic gaze.

"'World-famous', huh? Iduna was always the imaginative, creative, inspired one in our family. She had such a spiritual aura about her when we brought her home with us. Maybe that's why you turned out so pretty!" Fearlessly touching Elsa's cool, ice pale cheeks, Willow fondly recalls her lovely middle sister who had offered to stay behindat home with their elder brother Charles when Arianna took littlest sister Willow to go exploring around the world over a season with their long passed, great Aunt Josephine.

Of course, they later found out that sneaky Iduna had taken off at that time to Arendelle by her wits and determination alone to reacquaint herself with that stuck-up and seriously baffling recluse Crown Prince Agnarr she was so ga-ga about.

Chasing after good-looking boys kind of romanticism must run in the genes…

"Your comely Prince Hans is a brilliant fellow, if I do say so myself! Just like 'Punzie and Eugene alleged he'd be! I can't blame you for snagging him, o amazing magical niece of mine! Even if he's a Dane. Nice equipment." Willow was not quite aware that she was speaking aloud as she was as Hans led the growing group outside the Chapel, where one felt one must speak reverently.

More than a little bold and crass, Princess Wilhelmina compliments Hans' prominent physique that was peeking out between his unbuttoned naval jacket as he was doing his best to discreetly dress back into his normal attire.

"Isn't this thrilling?! So, since you're here now, are you two ladies coming along to break Eugene out of prison at sunset with us? Make your daring Prince tell you all his brilliant plans, Elsa! Do you think he found that lock pick we put in the honey jar, Admiral? How long will it take for us to get back to Paraiso without traveling the main road? Will some of us need to go by horse or can this Carpet carry, let's see two, four, five, six—" Enjoying this revisited youth jaunt with relish, Willow was having the time of her life. She, for one, fully embraced this wild disguise and subterfuge escapade which the adventure seeking older woman had become deliciously involved in.

"Put a sock in it, Auntie. It's a waiting game now. So just cool your heels." Prince Alonso, grouchy for his mid-afternoon nap, snaps at the over-anxious older female, as he had been industriously hanging a hammock type bedding between two incredibly tall, split trunk branches of a sprawling Kapok tree.

"How 'bout some siesta time under a shady canopy of trees on a shared tablecloth hammock, my Valentine? We'll see what we can find for pillows…" Luxuriantly squeezing a pair of plump, squishy, large overripe papaya fruits he fluidly plucks from the dense overhead vegetation, Prince Alonso smirks wickedly as he holds the rounded elongated fruits to his flat chest.

"Tell me again why I agreed to marry you?" Valentina rolls her eyes and whispers saucily, after smacking away the hands of her jokester fiancé holding the bulgy fruits insinuatingly at her.

"Because I'm irresistible." Alonso confidently pronounces in Valentina's ear as he scoops up his bride-to-be and situates the two of them into the wobbling hammock.

"Alon-sy! Are you c-cra~zy?!" The lackadaisical prince had thankfully tied the makeshift hammock secure enough to bear the weight of the squeezed intimately together, arguing young pair of lovers as they swing inharmoniously to and fro, pawing one another mischievously as they do.

And that's just the way spirited Valentina, who would wrestle back, suited him. For Prince Alonso, soon-to-be married man or not, would always like to be free to have fun.

Recognizing that duty was the better part of valor and was not constantly all fun and games, Hans conducts his innocent Queen away from the playful, perhaps vulgar scene.

"While we wait for the sun to set in this beautiful locale, perhaps I will explain to you my plan to free Storbror and bring him to the palace in time to represent Corona at the wedding tomorrow." As they stroll arm in arm beside the lush green panorama, Prince Hans begins to explain, back in his normal, beautiful voice which Elsa so adored to hear her name spoken in.

Especially when it was spoken with such fond affection for her in Hans' thrilling, manly timbre.

"Perhaps you have some excellent ideas of your own to add to my original proposal. I will always look forward to hearing your astute input in whatever joint endeavors the future may entail."

"Is that so, Admiral? Are there still some choice openings in your theater game for a pair of real girls this time?" Elsa coyly asks her man after a giggle at her hilarious friends and a wave to her inquisitive Aunt who had taken an interest in some nearby rare specimen of plant to even notice the two sets of lovers at play.

Elsa pointedly uses her Aunt's mistaken promotion title for Hans, as she licks her finger to smooth back some of his mahogany red locks that the removed wimple and veil disguise had appealingly mussed.

"There's always room for you in whatever game I'm playing at, my Queen." Somehow the almost suffocating warm humidity of the nearby isolated rainforest also put Hans off his stoic guard, and Elsa at her most liberated. The result of which caused the pair to flirt with one another openly.

With a single tug, Hans strips an overheated Elsa of her starched white neckpiece which he comically raises to his throat as if he still dared to wear it himself.

"You look stunning in anything, my handsome prince…oh, how I've missed you." As she transforms before his enchanted eyes into her more summery aqua gown - the sheer ice cape of which was decorated with pink and lavender flora rather than silver crystals - Elsa gathers Hans' long pretty chin in her chilled fingers and kisses his surprised, but willing lips.

"Hans, there's something…I've been meaning…to tell you, that I think will ease your mind." Elsa huffs out after a long, slow osculation that left both gasping for air.

"Yes, min kæreste?" The Danish Prince pushes aside all other thought as he attentively gives his fiancée his full concentration, sensing what she had to say was vital.

"Prince Hans…my dear, darling Hans…" The introverted Ice Queen was never acclaimed for her frank openness when it came to spilling her true emotions as she carefully fashions her words now.

"Yes…?" Hans did not wish to appear too pushy, as he withholds his curiosity until the moment the lady was ready to divulge her thoughts, as a proper gentleman should.

"After much discussion with Princess Valentina of her wedding to Prince Alonso, I've been thinking about our own wedding date..." After spending some time in prayer, Elsa had collected her courage enough to utter the preamble to her prepared speech.

"What of it, my love?" Feeling near a breakthrough, Prince Hans tries to prompt without sounding too eager and perhaps frighten his delicate, skittish female off again.

"Well, as you know, Papa has agreed to our two year engagement, several months of which have already ticked by." Elsa pauses here to swallow hard the lump in her throat, while her exotic blue eyes were seemingly distracted by the covey of exotic birds that had landed near the dense Tijuca Rainforest entrance.

"Five months, twelve days, and…eight hours." Fastidious Prince Hans checks his pocket watch with a naughty grin and pop to his fiancée's wobbling chin. He had obviously been counting down not only the months and days, but the very hours since Queen Elsa had agreed to be his bride.

"Has it been that long? Heeheehee." Elsa nervously chuckles at how ardent her man appeared to be about the launch of their connubial date.

"But it's not enough for me anymore. You see, I know more of who I am. And I wish to—" The blonde young woman's angsty words which could easily be misconstrued from the beset way she stated them, were rustled along with the bevy of birds which suddenly take flight when a large set man comes racing out of the greenery at full steam.

The dark fur wearing man was shielding himself from being pelted by that same angry, bad-tempered monkey, now joined by the rest of his fellow capuchin ape clan.

The vindictive ape once again spotted Pascal jumping blithely through the rainforest when Hamuel had unintentionally blown the chameleon's cover of tree bark brown when the cast-eyed raven squawked to his master near the forest edge they had been patrolling.

Exhausted little lizard heart pumping at an incredible rate, Pascal makes a mad leap to land on Wilhelmina's shocked shoulder.

The color-changing chameleon had returned mondo rapido from trying to deliver a note that Willow had scribbled during her mad dash to find help. The harried letter was to Baron von Reichenbach, requesting the renowned scientist to lend any assistance to their recently cured, beleaguered somnambulism patient.

"There you are, at last, Wilhelmina! How long must my boy be tortured in this dense jungle wilderness without me to liberate him?! You had stated he was in custody at the local law enforcement station which I have been running tight surveillance upon since you left me here to do so. After surveying the armament of their meager forces, judiciously counting the number of guards and watching their movements tactically, I have conclusively labeled the most industrious methods to waylay their transport. In doing so, I have concocted numerous schemes to liberate my wrongly incarcerated son from his captivity. After waiting for the advanced period of time allotted, I was on the verge of putting the most advantageous of those schemes into action. That was when I had spotted daughter Rapunzel's victimized chameleon sidekick on the perimeter of the jungle and endeavored to implement his release from the disgruntled local wildlife. But now I must insist to take part in the plan to free my Horace without further delay!" King Edmund had been impatiently pacing the forested road leading between the Brazilian police station and this hidden chapel stop all the morning, stewing and strategizing on how to most gainfully free his son and heir, Eugene.

Watchful King Edmund and his pal Hamuel may have liberated Pascal. But the muddy, exhausted 'lizard' had only located the parted ways trail of the Yogi Master, Babaji. The old Himalayan sage, in his odd, curious way, had thought to supply a small packet full of some mixture of chemical powders to be wrapped around Pascal's spiky reptilian scales.

That, along with a return note to his favorite student Wilhelmina in his native Himalayan language.

"Everyone! Get back! Master Bababji's note says there're some extremely volatile, experimental colored sodium salts, mixed with magnesium, strontium powder, and potassium nitrate along with some local plant extracts in that pouch strapped to Pascal!" Willow announces in a panic, her arms outstretched as she backs away from a terrified Pascal.

In her many journeys to the colorful East, Wilhelmina had seen more than her share of flash powder danger by eager locals who had no idea of the friction sensitive materials they were playing with.

"By Jove! Incendiary devices! Those will come in handy for the prison break!" The clapping with joy older Bohemian monarch was the only one seemingly unperturbed by the appearance of chemical explosives strapped to the trembling lizard.

Maybe not the only one.

"Pardon me, my Queen. But it appears my services may be required. Please go into the chapel with Princess Valentina as extra precaution. We will speak of this subject again later, after this mission is at its successful conclusion, if you please." Hans excuses himself, his reeling mind choosing to put Elsa's unfinished declaration to the side for now while he dealt with more pressing matters at hand.

"Please do not allow you raven to touch the packet containing the powders, Your Majesty." Hans steps in to warn King Edmund off from his large bird from intercepting the dangerous package securely attached to a white-as-a-sheet Pascal's back.

Edmund's pet bird's claws fumble just centimeters away from Pascal's delicate load, nearly causing the tense reptile to stumble, and spazzed Wilhelmina to gasp aloud.

"Madame. Please stay calm and step back. I have some experience with experimental powders." Moving towards Aunt Willow, the Prince of the Southern Isles references his fearless days of naval service. Back then, the plucky young Lieutenant dallied at creating more expedient, deadly explosives and impact fuses for his ship's cannons than just stone or cast iron ball shells, merely to gain some favor with the ship's seniority.

Which the innate charmer generally did ingratiate himself for later purpose.

It was easy to risk your life doing dangerous tasks if you had no one to value it, and little care for yourself.

But you changed that for me, Elsa.

"At ease, Pascal. I am an expert with explosives. It is fortunate you are both light-footed and cold-blooded, because each of those potassium nitrate and sodium percolate powders in those packets may have reacted to impact detonate at even the most rudimentary heat source." Hans reassures the bug-eyed and trembling chameleon who had blanched white at Willow's translated note reading.

"Ahh, Horace was right to boast that you are a genius in many fields, Hans Westergaard. And also about the fact that you tend to show off that tremendous commanding intelligence more often when a certain female audience is present." Complimentary and tactless all in the same sentence pretty much described the open frankness of the formerly in exile King of the Dark Kingdom.

As Hans colors more than the pallid chameleon, poor Pascal looked about to faint after staring at the multiple pouches of identified and separated, yet still volatile, powders still strapped to his cold little body that Hans was deftly removing, slow but sure, one by one.

"Don't bombs need a lit fuse to go off?" Alonso peeks out from behind a big trunk ceipid tree where covertly armed Valentina was brandishing her pink tamborita magic spell-casting weapon. From a safe distance behind his bride-to-be's magically whipped out of her underclothing mystic device cover, the morbidly curious Prince of Cordoba had disentangled himself and Valentina from their shared hammock to inquire of the emergency abruptly upon them.

"There is no fuse required, as this type of explosive is set by chemical compound friction to induce combustion. Ah, final strap to free you, my chameleon compatriot. Now, all that is required is a moist, cold encasement for these valuable powder explosives to be neatly transported safely." Gazing fearlessly upon the powdered substances in each of the open envelopes filled with lab powdered, chemical ingredients within his grip, Hans had barely finished his sentence before several small, perfectly clear, ice glass containers had magically appeared in the palm of his other hand.

"Thank you, my Queen." Hans says in gratitude to his acquiescent cryokinetic mistress who supplied the neat little frost bottles, complete with easy load brush lid to secure each and every granule of the explosive material the Himalayan scientist had thought could be a useful distraction for a proper jail break.

"A lady to be reckoned with. She reminds me of my Auguste. Minus the immodest garb, startlingly pale hair, and witch-like mystical abilities. Treasure her, sir." King Edmund murmurs to Hans as he sharpens his great broad sword on a nearby boulder in readiness for the planned incursion. The tall, dark-haired ruler thoughtfully gazes at Elsa and the look of pure trust passing between the Scandinavian couple.

"Where'd you pick up this sappy old guy?" Alonso says sourly concerning the seventy-something old man who, if not saying something off-color aloud, was spouting overly romantic jargon nonchalant Alonso also found over the top.

"What're you gonna do with that stuff, O 'commanding genius' Master Strategist?" Rolling his eyes at Edmund, Alonso's curiosity as to what his fellow prince was up to had overridden his natural self-preservation fear as he joins Hans, who was industriously knelt on the dirt road ground.

"I will carefully mix these powders and then impregnate a minute amount of gravel with them to buffer the explosive charge before packing the ingredients tightly in moistened, chilled paper wrappers. In this iced stage and the minute amounts involved, its volatility is virtually harmless if implemented properly. I can show you how, if you'd care to help me prepare these frozen cherry poppers?" Hans offers Alonso the chance to play the hero, as both instinctively knew Valentina was listening carefully.

"Why not? I'm getting married tomorrow." The Argentine Prince correlates one death-defying feat with another he was soon fated for, causing Hans to smirk at his levity and Valentina to grimace at the underlying insult.

"You're fine now, my little comrade. This intelligent young soldier has extracted you from danger." Impressed Edmund says as Hans stoops down to pick up and reassure as Pascal's reptilian scales that were still all white and standing on end, The mute chameleon was trembling afraid from the sheer fear of not knowing that just agitating a grain of that explosive powder he had unwittingly transmitted for over fifty miles of romping travel could have set it all off.

"Ignorance is bliss, eh?" Wilhelmina smiles the tease as the tiny 'albino' chameleon in Hans' hand faints dead away.

"No, dear girl. I have found ignorance to be terrible, damning, and lonely. I do not advise ever wallowing in it." Literal Edmund chastises his relation in all seriousness.

"Right…" Willow smirks at Eugene's sincere Dad who still had to get the hang of sarcasm.

Hans glances up and holds Pascal out in the waning sunlight for his Ice Queen to magically whisk the distraught creature onto a soft bed of snow with her and a squealing Valentina – Ewgh! I can't stand reptiles! They're bad luck at weddings! - into the outpost chapel.

Then Hans, Edmund and Alonso industriously set to work for the last hour before sunset on these last minute additions to Hans' masterful stratagem to save poor Eugene from his latest captivity.


"Now is the moment we must all embark together on this valorous mission to liberate my innocent lad, your dear friend, Eugene Pryzmyslid, from his prison cell's unjust captivity! Are you men – and ladies - with me?" Strident voiced King Edmund, on the back of a beautiful silvery white Moab steed that rears on its hind legs, makes the defiant declaration as loudly as he, raring to go, rallies the group on the outskirts of the town the erstwhile thief was being kept.

At the helm of a coach, Hans merely nods respectfully over his shoulder to the older sovereign, though he knew it was his less direct plan of action they would be actually following to free his cousin Eugene. The Dane hefts Elsa—who was looking particularly serene and angelic in the full Mother Superior nun's habit Hans himself had sported earlier—into the wagon bench seat beside him.

The long black nun's tunic was more loosely fitted around her slender sylphlike form, with her pleasing platinum hair totally obscured under the three piece coif, wimple and veil. On her left hand wearing the large silver ring of the bride of Christ was hidden Elsa's delicate snowflake engagement circlet Hans had given her.

But the long white cape of the Mother Superior certainly suited his Ice Queen better than it did he, as the Prince of the Southern Isles' breath was still taken away by his fiancée's beauty.

"Are you certain you want to participate, my Queen? I still say it's too dangerous and underhanded a mission for a pair of vulnerable ladies." Prince Hans recalled his future father-in-law's explicit order to keep his daughter safe at all times on this ocean-hopping journey.

"Don't worry so, my love. We'll be very careful. The guardsmen you spoke of are too reverent of holy sisters to investigate too deeply into our true identities. We'll do our best to be as convincing as you and Alonso were as the Reverend Mother and her novice nun. Won't we, Valentina?" Elsa's eyes, under that severe white coif, were laughing at this thrilling new adventure with her impressive leading man as he had gentlemanly escorted her to the buggy seat.

Hans had proficiently hitched the buggy wagon to the large, but gentle, black Morgan stallion and the Palomino paint at his side, as the team for the 'holy sisters' rides into town behind Hans' team.

"I suppose. But why do you get to play Mother Superior, while I'm just some unimportant novice? Your outfit is much more stylish than mine." Unhappy at her covered hairdo and hidden style, Valentina complains, trying to twirl around and look at her shapely backside in the restricting dark tunic.

"I wouldn't mind this view on our honeymoon. You can be my novice anytime, Valentine." Alonso flirts as he scoops Valentina up and plants her into the rear wagonbed like she was a sack of potatoes.

"Alonso Ricardo Fernandez Córdoba! Is this how coarsely you'll treat me as your wife?!" Valentina indignantly scolds her smirking faced fiancé, using his full name.

"Nah. I'll be just a little bit more rough then." Alonso was trying to gall her by living up to the ultra macho Argentine attitude of showing his woman who was in charge.

Though, deep inside he knew Valentina would always rule their royal roost together.

"If you two lovebirds are finished with your mating ritual, can we get this show on the road? Edmund is itching to go and Eugene may have already figured out to pick the lock and be waiting for us in the street!" Aunt Wilhelmina may have been a woman of the world, but she had the tendency in her midlife crisis years to stress out and panic.

Especially when she watched Eugene's headstrong father take off in the direction of the police station, and perhaps blow their clever plan right out of the water like a bull in a china shop.

"Ahem." Prince Hans winsome face goes a deep shade of crimson red at the older woman's explicit words before he responded. "You are correct, Madame. Timing is of the essence. And you need not concern yourself over the King. He has a particular job to do." Hans quietly confides to Willow with a look of reassurance she appreciated.

"Shall we commence 'Operation: Rider Independence Day', team? You all know your parts?" He then directs his gaze to meet that of each of his 'teammates' in this intrepid prison break onset.

Elsa was under the cover of darkness in nun's clothes taking on Hans' role as 'Mother Superior Magdelena' in the front seat; Valentina stepping into Alonso's shoes as young, impatient novice 'Sister Alanza'.

Finally, the last member in the wagon train, 'Sister' Wilignatius, asserts herself to jump up from behind into the driver's seat, playing herself once again in masquerade as a holy sister of the order of St. Sebastian as she relieves the departing redhead.

"Yes, Sir!" With excited nods from her two fellow passengers in similar disguise, Elsa sings the affirmative to her 'commanding officer' from down below in the wagon whose horses were ready and rearing to go.

"Alonso?" As he fluidly steps aboard, gallant Hans glances over his shoulder to where the Prince of Córdoba had lounged himself quite comfortably across the saluting-at-attention, dutiful Magic Flying Carpet that had picked Hans up.

"Whatever." Alonso was already tired of this whole hero gig, especially after being cheated of several of the forty winks of his afternoon siesta as he lets out a yawn.

Unbeknownst to the ladies below, the bold Danish Kommander and his confident Córdoban partner had filled their pockets with the intriguing cold 'frozen cherry' packets of detonation powder. Together they had mixed and wrapped the chemicals that Wilhelmina's researcher friends had uncannily provided, as all involved were to be destined for some fireworks tonight.

On Carpet's plush pile, not far above the treeline over the wagon rumbling quickly below, Prince Hans tries to look determinedly forward. But his attention was unable to entirely stray far from surveying his beautiful Queen of Arendelle below, her radiant glow still undeniable beneath the sober black and white uniform of a holy Sister.

Oh, my sweet angel in disguise…What have I gotten you into?

Though regretting insistent Elsa's role in this farce, the Danish Prince recalls the immediate purpose at hand for being out here in the foreign rainforests of Brazil.

Hang on, Storbror. The cavalry's coming. Just imagining what torture his favorite brother from another mother may be suffering, Hans trains his attractive green eyes towards the southeastern sky where the quiet little rural Policia de Segurança Pública (Police guard station) stood.

With vigilant Pascal on his shoulder and new sidekick-in-training Prince Alonso at his back, Hans' quick mind was already conjuring every possible scenario that may await this audacious group in their daring plot to set Flynn Rider free.


As the sun sinks below the Brazilian skyline…

"Hmmmmm. Nommmmm. Hmmmmmm."

Despite the yoga technique of facing east, sitting cross legged, fingers pinched, proper arm position he had spent the past month being trained in and out of his somnambulism by his scientist headshrink and Yogi master when he felt the need for self-calm, Eugene was becoming restless.

Sure, he was one big, tired ache after a full morning on the job of picking thorny pansies in this baking sun south of the border, complete with a full afternoon tethered in this stifling hot enclosure by harsh metal fetters to the cell's filthy floor. So much so, Flynn Rider would probably prefer never to see another pink wildflower again.

Even if the Bougainvillea's deep purplish fuchsia hue is close to my artsy gal's favored paint tint, I'm off pinching free floral bouquets permanently! Definitely time to call in ole Thor whenever flower arrangements are necessary!

And Eugene was pretty certain that the delegation of nuns who had visited this prisoner earlier was led by his stupendous Lillebror Hans.

Didn't know you had that much kinkiness in ya, Kid. Eugene smirks to himself at the well-acted ruse, as he stares up at the cracked and distressed concrete ceiling over the cell's dirt floor he had been sitting upon.

Gotta be grateful for the hayfever-laced, fluffy weed thingys that those lovely guardas fellas provided to spice up my swell Valentine's Day floral exhibit.

"Ah-choo!"

"God bless me! Don't sweat it, guys, I'm not dyin' or anything unpleasant in here as I wrap up my magnificent – if I do say so myself – floral wedding arrangement. Didn't know I had all this creative genius in my veins! Must have rubbed off on me from my sweet little bride. And our two wee toddlers weeping for their Daddy to come home! Not that any of you nice people care." Jose Bezerra was the most verbal prisoner this jailhouse had ever seen.

"Cale a boca, fazendeiro de vinho! (Shut up, wine farmer!) The four guardas had sat through an earful of their whiny prisoner's babbling. They'd taken turns looking in on his cell from time to time, as Eugene had furiously worked to complete his bridal flower wreath task with the hope they'd let him out for good behavior if he did.

"My innumerable bramble wounds don't feel as on fire anymore, thanks for asking, gents. Guess I could recommend this sticky-gooey manuki honey stuff the holy sisters kindly passed on to me. I don't know what's in it, but the stuff sure…does the trick…?" While he was more wallowing in self-pity of cooped up solitary confinement, Eugene's mouth had been running off all afternoon where he was playing with flowers behind bars, much to his keepers' annoyance.

That is, until Eugene suddenly realizes that the tannish yellow beespit not only held gluing petals and miraculous medicinal qualities. But also it obscured within its sticky squishy, squelchy folds, another hidden golden secret the thief was very familiar with.

"Woo boy, Sideburns! You are more brilliant than you are good-lookin'. And that's saying something, since you obviously resemble my side of the family." It was just then, in the last rays of light streaming through the tiny barred window, that egotistical Flynn Rider discovered the applicator of the honey bottle had a strange quality to it.

The metal tip screwed into the bottle top that he'd been applying the honey to his scars with, now that he could see with the medicine supply running low, was no ordinary applicator.

That's what the son of a gun was trying to relate with all those lofty, biblical words about 'liberation' and 'freedom' in the 'land of milk and honey!! I knew he was up to something! My very own lockpick with all the nifty tumbler features covered in this gummy sweet stuff that Handsome even had the forethought to send me some vinegar to clean off. Figured the spray bottle of vinegar I found in my 'craft basket' wasn't for my artistic health! That brainy Kid thinks of everything!

Savvy Hans, incognito in that Sister act earlier, had a secondary plan worked out if the nun gig didn't convince them, on how to spring Eugene from this stringent hellhole. And without raising a royal ruckus that'd get him busted with Rapunzel's easily uptight Dad.

"Hey, Lord? Remind me to kiss my Lillebror next I see him!" Eugene's talkative tendency had the guards so used to Jose Bezerra's nonstop voice swearing or prattling banalities as he banged on the cell door. So, Eugene had a hunch the card-playing group of delgados in the other room of the holding facility would pay little attention to the more discreet rustling noises to the metal locks of the fetters at his feet.

Okay, this vinegared fresh (Ouch, stingy fingers!) nifty screwed off bottle top is one quick click away from buying my freedom from this cell. But how the hell am I gonna tiptoe past those loud and laughing police guards without some distraction—

"Boa noite, senhores. Deus esteja com você por todas as suas gentilezas para com este pobre homem. Nosso Senhor e Salvador Jesus Cristo certamente irá brilhar bondade sobre você através de sua benevolência ao menor de Seu aqui para trazer algumas pomadas curativas para acalmar as feridas do seu prisioneiro. E então minhas irmãs santas e eu coletaremos nosso arranjo de flores buganvílias para nossa visita ao Palácio."

("Good evening, Sirs. God be with you for all your kindnesses to this poor man. Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ will surely shine goodness upon you through your benevolence to the least of His people. We are here to bring some healing salves to quiet your prisoner's wounds. And then my holy Sisters and I will collect our bougainvillea flower arrangement for our visit to the Palace.")

The deep voice acting performance of 'Mother Superior' was a bit more feminine than Eugene gave Hans credit for before, but never was there so welcome a sound to the thief.

"Psst! There's a rear door to the corridor to your right that we've unlatched from the outside. Make haste!" But Prince Hans' apparition hovering at the miniscule air hole window bars was a close second.

"How the hell are you in here jawing with the guards, and out there at my cell window?! You some kind of magician now, Lillebror? Wouldn't put it past ya, all the crazy stuff we've seen due to our respective fairytale enchanted ladies." Startled by his confused senses, Eugene incredulously glances back and forth between Prince Hans' indisputable voice addressing him from the ceiling slit window above and that of his red-headed Danish cousin's holy nun alter ego holding court with the blustery Comissário down the hall inside.

"Storbror. I'm surprised at you. Haven't you learned, being a happily married man for over nine years now, that a man's other half, compensating with charm and intelligence for a more diminutive size and less muscle mass, can generally accomplish everything he can, but with far more aplomb?" Hans proudly extols his (hopefully) soon-to-be bride's virtues as a proficient actress who easily matched his skills in the theatrical field.

"Huh? You've totally lost me now, Lillebror." Eugene felt once again flabbergasted at how this yet unmarried younger prince could always school him on the heady subject of women. "Brr. The temperature doesn't normally drop this significantly when the sun goes down here in tropical Brazil."

My Queen simply had to let her creative juices flow. She has resourcefully employed her newfound aurora borealis Winter Queen magic's ice coloratura quality to alter the tone of her soprano voice to more assimilate my tenor in feminine mode. She persuaded me to coach her, so we practiced back at the little chapel for the past hour. It may have been a tad embarrassing, but well worth the effort. It was somehow enjoyably stimulating to discover my surprisingly convincing ingénue Elsa is nothing short of a performing genius.

Hans mentally smiles at the unforgettable, memorable time spent with his eager lady who had raptly listened to his voice acting of his strict and staid interpretation of older holy Mother Superior, and so skillfully mimic it.

"Eugene. Suffice it to say, that is my Elsa inside that Reverend Mother costume now, not me. Against my better judgment, my Queen insisted on facilitating your escape alongside myself, your Aunt Wilhelmina, Prince Alonso, Pascal, as well as your father, King Edmund. So you must hurry and pick that lock, Eugene, so as not to jeopardize the contingencies of our efforts to liberate you with no international consequences." Even as he spoke, with keen eyes darting around, Hans was vigilantly ready to flee should a guard happen to pass by this side of the holding cells in the after dusk darkness, while Flynn Rider's dexterous hands were already busy.

"You were saying, Sideburns?" With a cocky head tilt that said 'Yep, still got it', Eugene, in a matter of the few moments Hans had been whispering through the window bars, already had the cell door lock picked and open while the Vise Admiral chatted.

That honey jar lock pick his Danish buddy had ingeniously planted in the sticky medicinal substance was swinging arrogantly on his finger. Show-off Eugene simpers back at his jailbreak buddy proudly as he stood in the open cell doorway, one hand placed on his braggart hip.

However, it was just then that Eugene realized all of what Hans had just stated in that hushed whisper.

"Did I just hear you say my extremely loud and virtually tactless old man is in on this jailbreak too!? Lord preserve us!"

C-CLINK!

In his vexation, the metal lock pick still had a tinge of honey on its handle end and gets stuck on Flynn's bandaged finger inopportunely, causing the helpful catch tumbler aid to clatter to the hard concrete floor of the holding cell center corridor.

Eugene's amber eyes connect with Hans' green ones for one shared, terrified second before the two men spring to action.

"Did you just hear something metal falling to the floor in the jail cells, Sisters? Have no fear! I, Comissário Contudo, will myself investigate if there is a prison break attempt and shoot the treacherous hombre Jose Berrara down if he is attempting to leave without finishing his assigned task for you three sweet ladies! That scoundrel had better be humbled to be working on that big and beautiful, wedding wreath arrangement for you good sisters to take to the wedding of our dearest Princessa Valentina!" The blowhard police chief was just about to swing open the door that led to the holding cell interior.

"Oh no! Good gracious! My sacred Cross has fallen from its chain! It's missing! I must find it!" Willow abruptly exclaims in her scratchiest voice impression as she had been prompted by Elsa's frenetic eyes and fingers glowing with ice energy to transport the silver metal holy necklace to noisily clatter away without the policeman seeing it behind his back.

"Oh, Heaven forbid for my pure of heart novices to see any violence this day, Señor! That was merely Sister Wilignatius' precious, genuine silver cross necklace that had fallen to the floor. Its clasp has been unreliable of late. Please put your firearm away, Sir. And step lightly, lest Wilhelmina's sacred crucifix is trampled in the interim. We will patiently repair the holy necklace chain as the policia officers give Brother Bezerra a few more minutes to complete his charitable mission, Sister." That's when 'Sister Wilhelmina' takes 'Mother Superior's' eye-raised note to dramatically gasp and feign looking for her holy pendant which a strange gust of cryo-kinetic ice wind had carried the silver Crucifix across the jail office floor.

"José Bezerra has had ample time to complete your flower wreath, Holy Mother. You and I go, while your novices stay here to scour for her crucifix." The impatient Comissário insists on going to examine his prisoner now, his distracted eyes falling upon the oddly more lovely at eveningtide Reverend Mother.

"Oh, I feel ill, Mother Superior…" 'Sister Alanza's' naturally scratchy voice was not hard for Valentina's weak throat to emulate as the over-the-top actress Princess exquisitely and suddenly 'faints'. In dainty, overcome 'fear', Valentina gracefully drops into the big man's obliging grasp, halting his eager alacrity into entering the prison ward to no doubt punish his favorite prisoner further.

"Please help Sister Alanza to that setee over there, Señor! She often has fainting spells as this in the hot summer weather. Perhaps you can find some fans we can use to cool her down?" Quick-thinking Mother Superior Elsa bargains to buy some time for her cousin Eugene to flee his jail cell.

"Si, si, Señorita. We will look. Delegados! ¡Ven a ayudarme a reunir algunos abanicos para las monjas, rápido! (Come help me round up some hand fans for the nuns, fast!)" Trying not to show his annoyance, Comissário Contudo loudly barks out the order. His deputies – who were just about to make their half hourly rounds to check on the prisoner – soon come racing out to supply the hard to locate cooling devices from their desk drawers.

Grateful for the nuns' timely save as he was hiding against the wall, the jailbreaker nearly had gotten himself caught and cornered in the cell area if not for the ladies' fine theatrical skills in the other room.

My hat's off to you, sisters. With a small salute, Flynn Rider makes a silent dash run towards the cracked open back door at the end of the stone corridor where his freedom lay.

"Yeesh. You're a mess, in major need of a bath, Fitzherbert. Let's get some wind on him, Carpet!" In low whisper and turned up offended nose, Prince Alonso helps a muddy, sweaty, sticky Eugene onto the magic rug's helpful back.

"Oof, my back. Gee, thanks. Jail cell floors are not known for their ergonomic benefits. What about Hans and those Amazing Grace girls?" Eugene complains of his aching back as he leans against his friendly Rugman's accommodating folded up pile supporting the thief's sore posterior and back.

"He'll escort them back to the church outpost with that pink flower wreath monstrosity you slaved over, once the dust settles. Okay…Westergaard, hope you're in position, 'cause I'm gonna let 'er rip! Here, hold this." To Eugene's wonderment, spoiled brat Prince Alonso seemed in high spirits to veer Carpet up into the sky.

The Argentine royal then starts chucking little wads of paper from the cold bottle he had shoved in Eugene's hands into to the horse corral behind the guardhouse below.

BANG!

POP!

BOOM!

One after the other, the homemade firecrackers Alonso chucks over Carpet's side noisily explode on impact with the empty road. The small cherry bombs caused little to no property damage to the ground they smack detonated upon, but the livestock horses, burros and colts housed in the stable and corral were startled enough to rush away from their deputies who had been ordered to give chase to the just discovered escapee jailbird.

"Okay, did my part to scatter the search party horses down there and divert attention from any trail you left to the southeast's total opposite direction away from that chapel checkpoint. There we'll wait for Hans and the girls and relax. We've done our part in this nutty escapade." Back to being bored, Alonso states in the blasé way of wiping his hands from the exhilarating cherry bomb toss he quite enjoyed before he returns to his calm conversation with a jaw-dropped Eugene.

"Our part?! That's it?! Where's my Dad?!" 'Horace' had not forgotten to enquire of his father in all the melee.

"That nutter? He's down there on some wild, silvery white steed he picked up, racing around like the speed of lightening in his own disguise…hehehe…You got some genes in you, Pryzmyslid. I pity your kids." Alonso seemed to be as amused as he was in bewilderment while he gave the unstoppable King of Bohemia's proposed antics down there a snigger.

"Excuse me?! You gotta get me down there, Carpet! Edmund is gonna get himself in deep doodoo if I don't—" Good son Eugene Horace does his level best to sit upright and commanding on his Magic Flying Carpet. But the multiple backaches and deep wound scrapes and bruises he was enduing kept the thirtysomething cat burglar less than pliable for such a rescue endeavor.

"You just chill for now, brother. Your Dad will be fine! He's a big boy, with an even bigger sword that he's not afraid to use. Anyway, that brilliant 'Lillebror' of yours has got his back if all hits the fans. Which it probably won't, with that powerhouse Ice Queen and my pretty Valentine secretly packing her tamborita's punch, just in case. We got this all under wraps. You wouldn't want to mess up ole genius Hans' grand undercover scheme, would ya?" Alonso smirks sardonically at the complimentary way he was talking about his ex-rival.

"Right. I trust Hans." Eugene states to convince himself with a quirky twisted lip.

Not so sure about my old man…Hope he doesn't run into that sadistic Comissáriojerk. Wonder what my Pop's up to back there…

"And soon as our gang all get back to the chapel, we'll book it back to Paraiso, just in time for supper with Val's fun Dad. I've already seen enough of him to last a lifetime at the wedding rehearsal." Alonso's mouth twitches at the idea of wasting his whole last afternoon as a swinging bachelor cooped up inside the ornate Brazilian Cathedral in repetitive practice of what would have to take place the next day anyway.

"Rehearsal? My gal and I just stuck around for the star in Corona palace, and skipped most of the stuffy, old formality – that's mostly for the benefit of training the old folks to not freak out at the real shindig, by the way – to let our uptight hair down – no pun – to go on one last sunset gondola ride before we tied the knot. My Princess is a hopeless romantic, but I put up with her whims, 'cause I'm a nice guy." Eugene, talking married man to man, left out the little caveat that the quixotic last ditch gondola was all an idea set up by romantic him, not Rapunzel.

"It was a perfect intro to show my blushin' Prussian bride the honeymoon yacht I got ole ex-seaman Hookhand and Hookfoot to commandeer – legally, of course – so Gunther and the rest of the Snuggly Duckling gang could work with our whiz kid inventor Varian to fix it up with all the modern amenities for our month-long private excursion alone as husband and wife."

"So how did that work out?" As he steers Carpet towards the rainforest outpost, Alonso makes conversation with the older, supposedly wiser in the ways of wedded bliss, former thief.

"Fantastic. If your freedom-loving girl doesn't get cabin fever less than a week in. I'd stick to long walks on some exotic beach, or other scenic land address, if you want my advice, Toreador." Ever the nickname aficionado, Eugene awards the cocky Argentine with one of his own in a taunt at Alonso's striking black and gold bullfighter attire.

"As if that's up to me. I'm at the end of my days of being free to have fun." Alonso murmurs with a longing glance back to the polizia station where he watches his pushy Valentina, who was currently posing as a holy nun, come trotting out of the jail.

"Believe me, Kid, as a lifelong loner and rogue thief, I know how you feel about the loss of a man's personal liberty. But being married to my sweet, indomitable Liebling princess over these memorable seven years together was well worth every iota of the bumps and bruises along the way. You'll know someday what I'm talking about holding her heart as your most precious treasure, if you just stick it out on the bad days, because the reward of the good ones will be incredible. A loving marriage is worth the cost of a little freedom in the end." Not at all experiencing the infamous 'Seven-year-itch' that many married men complained of, Eugene pleasantly surprises Alonso with his contented smile. Even if the man was dirt-covered and exhausted, wracked with painful cuts and bloody abrasions all over his hand and arms and torso, he still could proclaim his love as sure and true.

Alonso smirks at the older, married man's cogent and timely advice. Recalling their argumentative, spicy relationship to be full of those bad day bumps and bruises as Eugene specified, he gazes upon his vivacious beauty in an enlightened way he never did before.

On this revealing night's darkness where she was undercover in a nun's habit and he a jailbreak accomplice, the formerly wholly self-centered Prince could actually look down and think he was the luckiest man in the world to be married to his pink flower of a Princess by this time tomorrow.


Down below at the rural policia station front entrance…

"Oh! Even a little bit more amazing than I thought!" Valentina was rather un-novice-like, cooing over the pretty pink bougainvillea floral wreath a certain prisoner fashioned for her wedding that Elsa and Wilhelmina together had been carrying to their wagon.

The bride-to-be was looking as fresh and innocent as the preserved pink blossoms she adored when she emerges from the jail cell Eugene had left in an uproar.

"Obrigado, Senhor! (Thank you, Sir!) I—ahem—The Princess of this land will never forget your sweet wedding contribution!" Almost forgetting her Sister act in joy to receive her favorite flowers from this quaint little community, Valentina sings and practically dances across the police station threshold with a wave to the irate, fat chief of police.

Then she checks herself and joins her other two, more severe-faced 'Catholic nuns', as Elsa and her Aunt were trying to appear shocked and appalled by her loose behavior.

Above suspicion in this jailbreak, the convincing women in black had just come from the empty cell, and had followed the angry Comissário Contudo into the dusty road.

The refraining from cursing aloud Comissário was too busy, furiously looking up and down the street to notice Sister Alanza's attitude and definite voice shift, as he shook his fist in the air at this problematic prisoner's inexplicable escape.

"Wherever you are, I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth! You belong in jail, Jose Bezerra!" The livid Police Commissioner, who seemed to have some perverse motive for desiring this wanted felon back in his cell, cries out into the dark vacant street to the invisible criminal menace.

That's when the left alone in his vacated police station outpost ComissárioContudo turns to fetch his rifles and other armory to doggedly track the thief down.

But not before the superstitious south of the equator man was in for the fright of his life.

GR-ROOAR-RWWLL!

In a blinding flap of ebony feathers and talons, emerging from the darkness, covered in black furs, bared claws and jagged sharp teeth, comes the massive figure of a fearsome creature known in this part of the world as the 'Mapinguari'.

The few seguranças guardsmen left who had gathered to collect their already frightened away horses were instantly scattered by the wild bird attack and petrifying sight as their stray bullets glance off their seemingly impenetrable target.

Glowering with each step forward towards him, the vicious, monstrous entity had been said to stalk the Brazilian Rainforest during a full moon, as it was tonight. The hairy humanoid Cyclops was feared for generations by South American children, rumored to wander the night in one-eyed lust for human flesh, and which the boastful police chief had secretly been terrified of since his youth.

"Mapinguari…You have come to claim me…" And here that frightened young boy who had only become Policia Comissárioto be able to arm himself with a firearm to someday hunt down and vanquish the beast, was standing, face to face in the fowl breath of the giant, one-eye ground sloth of legend.

And it was now staring him down hungrily, growling and glowering all the while it moved towards the man singularly frozen in fear.

GRRROWWLLL! GLOWWERR!

BANG! P-CHINK! BANG P-CHINKK!

In the moment of his most mortifying fear, his loosed bullets fruitlessly bouncing off the unfathomable beast's hide, the corrupt Comissáriodoes what most blustery cowards do, as the be-fanged and razor clawed monstrous monster with the gaping extra mouth full of teeth at its abdomen looms nearer.

Holding his useless guns to his chest protectively, the large, imposing man tucks tail back towards the Policia headquarters before he trips over himself and the trail of bougainvillea vines his captive had dragged from the prison and faints dead away in a crumpled pile.

GRRROW-? RRWLL?

"Hmm? Where did he go, Hamuel? It's difficult to see through this coconut shell one eye. That was no fun. He didn't even put up a fight." The thick fur, swathed with armor plate beneath over his wide chest, expertly fashioned with a coconut shell innards for a massive one-eye, tall and undaunted, large framed ruler of the Dark Kingdom grumbles beneath his furry helmet.

He had once again put his ages-old bear costume he had packed to successful use, though feeling a bit deflated by this easy victory, his hidden, sharpened sword falls to his disappointed side as King Edmund of Bohemia lets out a sigh. In his hours spent left here at the edge of the rainforest jungle, the King had well-researched the costume menace of the fearsome 'Mapinguari'. So, for this incursion, he had brainstormed to dress the part of the legendary creature to strike fear in the hearts of the local guards.

"Which serves our incognito purposes even better than expected. Well done, Sir. I could not have played it more expertly myself. When he comes to, that blowhard Comissário will no doubt try to forego the whole episode so as not to embarrass himself even further before his men." Unseen in the shadows, Prince Hans moves his vehicle from the forest edge after peering into the police station to see its chief out cold.

Hans gives a topped hat nod to the older man who performed his role as confusion interference well, as Edmund removes his performing furs back over as his cape before resuming on horseback.

"Yes, indeed! A fitting sentence for this coward who has treated my son so ill! A lesson to all bullies! Let us be off! Hiyah!" King Edmund loudly pronounces before he signals his steed to leave.

While the supernatural fright was going on at the station, Prince Hans deftly had moved through the shadows from the stables in a dark cape of his own over his naval uniform, to mount Valentina and Willow into the bed of the wagon he had circled 'round to be ready to quickly depart.

"Now, you all belong at a wedding in Paraiso, where I will deliver you to represent your nations with pride." The Prince of the Southern Isles almost inaudibly comments, save for his single listener—the invigorated Ice Queen he had picked up and lifted into the wagon bench seat beside him.

"Is that not correct, Reverend Mother?" As he prompts the pair team of horses to quicken their steps once out of sight, Hans coyly remarks in Elsa's ear that was hidden somewhere beneath that strict white and black cowl and nun's veil.

"Yes, Señor. But I prefer to be called 'my Queen', as you represent our country with honor." To which an excited Elsa banters right back, as she, full of performing exhilaration and undercover thrills during this liberating full day, yanks off her habit coif and runs a hand through her pinned up hair until it was loosed and free.

"My brilliant, beautiful, talent-knows-no-bounds Queen of Ahtohallan." In a toast as he drinks in the moonlight streaming down upon her, Prince Hans gratifies the Queen of Arendelle with a soft kiss to her pale brow.

Unaware of what was actually going on in the Enchanted Forest and Ahtohallan during this time, Elsa leans her contented head against her man's strong shoulder with a pleased sigh under the bright Brazilian moon evening.

"How wonderful it is to be together like this, sharing, enjoying, living and loving each other in every way like a normal young couple, my darling." Smiling freely as the elementals had shielded her from thoughts of the North Winter upheaval on the other side of the world. Elsa murmurs, her heart full of a wondrous day spent with her fiancé instead. "I want everyday of our love story to be always like this from now on, Hans. I don't want to wai—" Caught up in the high dose close intimacy of Hans Westergaard's pervasive scent and encapsulating eyes, Elsa Bernadotte was just about to explain her wedding-date ready viewpoint when her Aunt Willow's voice abruptly intervenes.

"Sorry to interrupt your romantic heart-to-heart with your hunky hero, Niece, but I need to talk and Valentina's drifted off to sleep back here hugging her wreath. Interesting pink thing." Willow had an uncanny way of speaking at the wrong time, somewhat reminding Elsa of her baby sister Anna's loose tongue. And the worst part was, the Arendelle Queen wasn't even sure if Willow was talking about the flower arrangement or the young woman attached to it.

"So, now that Eugene's free to attend the wedding tomorrow to represent Corona with you Edmund, I'd love to get back to show the Baron and Master Babaji all the important samples I collected during my tromp through Tijuca Rainforest. Tell Eugene that I hope he feels better soon after all those pricks and cuts from those nasty vines, and to give everyone my salutations at the wedding if I don't get back in time. Oh, Elsa! You can do that, too! No one will miss me there! So, once we get to the nun's outpost, it'd be great if you guys could leave me with this horsedrawn buggy. Then I can head up to the Iguana waterfalls where Baron von Reichenbach is studying the sleep patterns and effect of water pressure on fish going upstream to mate." Driven by curiosity and love of adventure and discovery, Princess Wilhelmina was still full of enthusiasm for her latest pet project fad.

"That sounds…interesting." Elsa could not, in her wildest dreams, ever imagine the study of fish in the hot, wild outdoors, to outweigh attending a royal wedding of a friend in a golden cathedral the likes of breathtaking Paco Imperial Cathedral.

But, I suppose, once upon a time, I would prefer hiding in my room all day to stepping a single foot outside in nature. Now look at me, my Hans! I run free with the spirits of the wind and the earth and the fire and the sea!

"After we return to Paraiso tonight, may we take a walk alone together tomorrow morning? Valentina has invited me to explore her beaches early as the tides come in, where the weather's fine and the landscape beautiful. So, I very much would like to do so before we must begin our return voyage home. I…There's something I must tell you." Elsa never felt more freethinking and liberated to speak her mind than she did right now as she stares up at Hans under the moonlight with such utter honest yearning that it was palpable.

Prince Hans stops the horses pulling their wagon around the obscured rear of the small little chapel, clearing his throat as he could sense that same underlying, deep anxiety still overwhelming him from his girl.

"I am but your dedicated servant, my Queen." Hans dutifully bows as relentless lover dismounts the carriage to escort Elsa from the front passenger bench.

Speaking of dedicated…

"Whoo-whee, ya got me out, with no strings attached to the palace for Fritz to fry me when I get back home, just like you plotted, Handsome! Ooch-ouchy! Pernicious plant! Hey, Queenie! Are you a sight for sore eyes, your Legginess! That fine acting job probably saved my bacon! A good-lookin' dame like you posing as some old nun couldn't fool me – Although , I must admit, my Lillebror had me going when he first showed. Hmm…that's disconcerting — Imagine the two of you hiding that ambient light of yours beneath a nun's bushel! But it worked on that big fat tub of a cop! What a pincer movement double-teamup power couple you two are! All my stinging cuts could use some icing, when you get the chance, Queenie." As Elsa and Hans enter the chapel, Eugene's gregarious voice rings out from where he had had Alonso prop him up on the narrow church pew with multiple pillows and seat cushions for his sore bum and painful aching muscles.

"As I was explaining to your new sidekick here, Sideburns, it's gonna be a bit crowded as we book it to your palace. Mainly because my wounded - but still stunning - bod probably needs some extra reclining space on Carpet. But you two skinny couples shouldn't mind the close quarters. Gives excuses for some moonlit, late night lap dance intimacy, right? I won't complain of the show from my lonely corner on the Rugman. If he doesn't mind, that is. Ouchy. What's that noise?! Have they smoked us out?!" His spitfire chatter had everyone's head spinning, Eugene's calming yoga therapy obviously having some stored up energy reserve side effects.

"It's only your Aunt, Princess Wilhelmina, taking the wagon to meet her research friends at the Iguazu waterfalls to give them the plant samples she collected from the Tijuca Rainforest. She sent kind words for your recovery, and will try to come to the wedding." Elsa explains to her prone cousin and apologetically smiling to Valentina and Alonso too for her rash younger Aunt's rude behavior.

"I forgot all about 'ole Wills! No problemo there, your Legginess. One less seat to fill on our Magic Carpet bus, right? By the way…where's my…Pops in all this? What the hell?!" Eugene's continual smirk is wiped off his face when, upon being helped outside the quiet chapel by Hans and Alonso's shoulders, he spots his Dad.

King Edmund had already outfitted Carpet to be extended by the tightly strung across and sewed on crookedly by Hamuel, extra fur cloak of his bear-upgraded-to-Mapinguari ape-like monster strategically pulled taut to provide extra passenger room onboard the Arabian Rugman's willing pile.

"You have got to be kidding me! Why on earth have you added some ugly black fur menace section to my sleek ride, old man?!" Eugene spazzes out as he is carted towards the elongated mystical rug that Elsa had already reassured her cool winds would keep safely aloft on their skyward journey.

"It is suitable fur bedding with ample cushioning room that your good friend Carpet had assented to, Horace. With cushioned pillows to rest my poor infirmed boy's bumps and bruises while these kind nurses have offered to treat his wounds during the flight. Have I not done well, Son?" At times, strangely gruff and tactless King Edmund, after his long years spent in self-imposed solitude for the good of his people and land, exhibited a soft spot for his one and only beloved son that no one could deny.

"Yeah, Dad. It's great. Thanks." Amid all his own hurts and anxieties, Eugene had grown a heart of gold that felt for the older man. He wouldn't hurt his lonely father – who had missed out on so much in life, all to preserve the safety of others in the outside world from that dark crystal protected kingdom of his – for the world.

"So shall we beat it on my newly redesigned for comfort and flexibility Magic Flying Carpet before the entire countryside of rural bumpkin guards chance upon us? Ooh, snazzy extra soft pillows provided at no extra cost on this flight. Nice touch, Pops." With a hand on his father's big, helpful one offered to help him onto the now plush ride, the on-the-run thief smiles up to his pleased father, despite being antsy to vacate the local area.

Eugene did not relish the idea of spending another minute in that dirty rotten-smelling cell with a thick scented pink wreath flower bowery of doom surrounding him.

"Yes, we must be at the palace in time for supper, or my Papa will send out the entire national guard to find me!" Valentina begins to panic at the unpalatable prospect as she forgoes a lady's private decorum and starts stripping in public from her black and white sister habit to reveal her tight traveling purple pantsuit beneath.

"Allow me, my Valentine. Good practice, eh?" Alonso offers in his most gentlemanly air, with a winked aside to Eugene in that crude male manner as he 'helps' his fiancée wriggle out from the unbefitting to her, rest of the religious clothing.

Valentina's nervous coughing wheeze was halted by the cool breeze which Elsa insightfully directs her friend's way. It causes the hot and bothered, dark-skinned princess to remain somewhat calm.

Even when Alonso - having positioned himself onboard a choice spot on a hovering Carpet at the chapel rear doorway after Eugene's Dad had already greedily staked his son and his own claim diagonally across most of the center of the securely stitched fur section added to the plush rug - invites Valentina to sit so close on Carpet's right side, she was indeed practically seated on her fiancée's lap.

"Hey, Westergaard! We've got a fur-lined golden peso waiting on a silver reales!" The impatient Prince of Córdoba makes a taunting Argentinean monetary comparison as he starts tapping his finger on Valentina's shoulder with a whiny neck outstretched backwards, beckoning into the chapel's last straggler holding the show up.

Making a hastened sign of a Cross before exiting the quiet Catholic outpost, Prince Hans had been respectfully folding and fastidiously stacking back in the chapel's backroom sacristy the borrowed nuns' clothing and veils, before joining the others assembled on Carpet outside.

"Yes, we are prepared to swiftly return to Paraiso as soon as you are ready, my Queen." The Prince of the Southern Isles nimbly alights onto the remaining triangular front quadrant where Valentina and Alonso left room for Hans and Elsa, who would monitor the fur addition to be icily infused for Eugene's cooled wound preference during the trip.

Then sleek Prince Hans, dressed so dashingly in his form-fitting Sjoforsvaret naval uniform, extends his hand to Elsa invitingly as Carpet was hovering at her level.

"Do you trust me?" Hans poses the multilayered question to his love, his eyes saying so much in their entranced gaze.

"Of course I do. Anywhere you go, let me go, too." Queen Elsa of Arendelle adoringly answers with proud conviction, as she takes his warm hand to be confidently squeezed in her cool one.

Prince Hans of the Southern Isles then lifts his lady as if she were weightless, with Carpet's deft help to rest upon his welcoming lap at Eugene and his father's left side.

Together, the two royal couples and the liberated pair of recluse King and injured, but grateful, thief make their return to the place where an amazing wedding would take place, all in the pursuit of a life full of happiness.

The refitted Magic Flying Carpet's rainbow of rich colors added a certain flair to the daybreaking skies of the rainforest they were departing.

And a nocturnal creature hidden within the wood's depths, about to turn in for its daytime nap in a secluded cave just a few meters from the Policia Station, looks up in wonder at the Cyclops-eyed, dark fur face of the legendary Mapinguari staring over the edge of the rug, down at its quizzical mirrored image.


Seguranças - security patrol in Portuguese

Guardas – police guards in Portuguese

Delegado –police investigator in Portuguese

reales – Argentinean currency of early 19th century, worth approx. 100 centevos


Happy First week of Spring, Frozen Again friends! :)

BA-BOOM!

How's that for some much needed comedy combined with some love-love fireworks as we mark the seasonal change, dear friends?

After this final romp's fun cross-dressing/ subterfuge impersonation/ cherry popper/ legendary local monster filled jail break for our always-in-trouble Flynn Rider including his Father King Edmund in this undercover episode, there will be the promise of some hot Rio beachtime excitement for Elsa and Hans to share in the next one, when our fiery Hispanic couple of Princess Valentina and Prince Alonso finally tie the knot!

Now that this South American wedding warm-up arc is almost complete, it's time to start the wedding march for Elsa and Hans to soon enjoy some marital bliss of their own when they get back together in Arendelle as this Frozen Again saga winds down the aisle!

After all the danger and angst over the years, I can't think of a couple who deserve wedded happiness more! :)

But there may be a power shift as the winter changes to spring awaiting them back home in the mysterious land of the Midnight Sun.

I hope you enjoy each of the ones you love and cherish your times together the Lord has given you. Let us pray for one another, please.

God bless you all.

HarukaKou

P.S. Please review! I'd love to hear what you thought of Hans being in drag hijinks! (I must admit it seemed Santino Fontana, with his Best Actor award winning, cross-dressing 'Tootsie' performance, gave me the okay for the idea for our stiff hero Hansie to let a little loose with his excellent, in-touch-with-his-feminine-side acting skills too!) ^o^ What Hans won't do for his Storbror Eugene! :)

P.P.S. Did anyone catch Flynn Rider's official Portuguese dub name alias in this chapter? Of course our roguish thief must've sported many names in his travels before he met up with his Princess, whose true love and forever happiness may have cost 'Jose Bezerra' his freedom. :)