Letting it All Out

The Next Day…

Elsa sat still on the sofa of her father's study. She took a sip of tea brought by Gerda at her father's request. Elsa was trying her best not to spiel her anxiety out of control about what would come next. She had second thoughts about doing this but quickly pushed them out of her head. Elsa knew she couldn't avoid this topic after what her father brought up yesterday and the nightmare.

She supposed this was inevitable. It was only a matter of time before her family and those close to them wanted to know more about the man who took & held her captive for the first five years away from home. While she would rather spend the rest of her life not thinking about Fritjof, Elsa knows she needs to do this.

The door to the study opened and closed. Elsa looked up to see her father, Storstrand, and that councilman guy Gad. They each gave a friendly greeting as they took their seats. Agdar sat beside her as the other two men pulled some chairs directly infront of the king and ice wielder.

"Now, Elsa. I'm sure your father has told you the importance of what we're about to discuss," Gad laid it out to her.

"He did," Elsa responded meekly. Gad picked up on this.

"I understand if you're reluctant to talk about your captor. I can't imagine what he put you through during those years you spent under his grip. But you must understand we're doing this so that we bring this ruffian to justice if he's still around."

"I understand."

"But we will stop if it's too much," Agdar assured her.

"Thank you, papa, but I think I can do this."

"Alright then." Agdar turns to Gad & Storstrand. "Take it away, gentlemen."

"Excellent," Gad expressed. "Here's what we're going to do. First, I need you to tell me about the man who held you captive. To start, could you tell us his name?"

"His name is Fritjof," Elsa answered.

"Just Fritjof? No last name?" Elsa shook her head.

"That doesn't exactly narrow it down. Fritjof is a popular name in this country," Storstrand pointed out.

"Sorry…"

"Do not fret. We're not giving up quite yet," Gad encouraged. "What about what he looks like? Did you recall that?"

Elsa took a moment to think. "Fritjof was tall, had dark hair, and maybe a beard... That's all I can recall. I doubt that can be helpful. He probably changed his appearance in the last ten years."

"That may be, but there are things that one cannot change. Even the smallest details can help."

"Something as minor as a scar, birthmark, or a physical abnormality can be keys to finding a criminal," Storstrand added. "Flynn Rider was never caught because nobody got his nose's description right. That one detail alone kept him from getting captured for a long time."

"Is there anything else you can recall, Elsa?" Gad pressed on.

Elsa went to the deepest part of her memories, one that she had kept locked up for so long. Images of her captor raced through her mind. As they did, the picture got clearer.

"I…I think Fritjof may have an eye injury," Elsa revealed.

"What kind? What caused it?" Gad pressed.

"I…might've caused it." Elsa bit her lip. "I threw some icicles in his left eye when I finally escaped him."

Nobody noticed that tiny proud smirk on Agdar's lip.

"And you're certain that it didn't…kill him?" Storstrand asked, trying to be gentle.

"Fritjof was still standing, so I think he survived that. I don't know how bad it was, but there was a lot of blood pouring out."

"Serves him right for what he did to you…" Agdar thought to himself.

"Possible scarred eye, or maybe even a missing one. That may help narrow the search," Gad wrote the details onto a notepad. "Criminals do tend to wear eye patches. Why one half of the Stabbington Brothers Duo is known for such a thing." Gad finished his scribbling. "One more thing I would like to ask, Elsa. Do you know Fritjof's age?"

Elsa hummed in thought. "I think he might be around the same age as…Papa." She turned to Agdar. "The more I think about it, he has some other traits that remind me of you."

"What?" Agdar wondered.

"You have a similar build, and I think he was your height." Elsa tilted her head. "And his face shape reminds me of yours."

Gad writes in his pad to add that detail. "Excellent. Maybe this should be enough to conjure up a picture for a professional to make. Hopefully, we could find him easier if he's running rampant here or in any other kingdom. Assuming he's not already dead."

"If we're done with that, we can move on to the next topic of discussion," Storstrand expressed.

"What?" Elsa looks at the Captain.

"The location of where Fritjof held you."

Elsa lowered her gaze. "Oh, I see…I'm not sure If I can be helpful with that too."

"Tell me what you know. Like what Councilman Gad said, every small detail can be helpful."

"Alright…" Elsa breathed out. "The place Fritjof held me for five years was huge. There were a lot of high walls. The only way in was a large gate."

"That sounds almost like a stronghold," Agdar concluded.

"Because thats what it was," Elsa confirmed.

"Do you remember where this Stronghold is?" Storstrand pressed on.

"I know it's beyond the North Mountain. But for where it is, I don't know," Elsa answered dejectedly. "When I escaped, I didn't pay attention to my surroundings. All I remember were tall trees and a rock wall behind the place before falling into a river. That's how I got far from them. I don't remember how long I was in there. When I got out of the water, I found a nearby cave. I spent a few days walking until I made it to the North Mountain, and that's where I've been since. That's all I have."

Gad hastily wrote down everything Elsa had said. "Done."

"Why do you want to know the location? He could be long gone from that place," Elsa questioned.

"Better safe than sorry. You'd be surprised how prideful some crooks can be," Storstrand explained. "I'm also an expert on geographical locations. I can narrow some areas of interest based on what you told me and send some people to search them."

"You can do that?" Storstrand nodded in response. "But…what if he isn't in any of those spots? Or anywhere in the country?"

"I will write letters to the nearby kingdom's leaders asking if someone like Fritjof is there," Agdar shared gently.

"And if he's not in any of those places?"

"Then it would be best to assume that he's either dead or far away," Gad declared.

Elsa crosses her arms nervously, moving her gaze down to the ground. She wasn't sure if that was the answer she wanted. The mere idea of Fritjof not being found made her unsettled.

Agdar picked up on his daughter's worry. "If you both have no further questions, you can go, Elsa." The king walked Elsa to the door. He gave a gentle pat on her shoulder. "You did well, Snowflake. I'm proud of you for telling us all this."

"Thank you, papa," Elsa responded with a timid smile.

"Go along now. I got everything here. I'll see you later."

Elsa turned down the hallway. Agdar stepped back into his study, closed the door, and left him back in with Gad and Storstrand.

Gad was the first to speak. "With all that said and done, I'll get to work getting those pictures made. It shouldn't take too long. Perhaps I can get some posters to put around town."

"I wouldn't do that. Not yet, at least. If Fritjof is still in the country, we don't want to let him catch on that we're now on to him," Storstrand argued.

"I agree with you, captain," Agdar spoke up. "Best if we catch him if he's off guard. He possibly spent ten years thinking he could get away with anything."

"Very well then," Gad accepted. "I'll still get some pictures made. Should be ready in a few hours."

"That should leave me plenty of time to narrow down some locations where that stronghold could be," Storstrand voiced. "Once I get that down and you get me those drawings, I'll arrange for a team to send them out to search."

"I assume you already have some people in mind?" Agdar guessed.

"Indeed, Your Majesty. They're one of my best." The captain said with pride.

"I trust your word, captain. While you both do your part, I'll start writing the letters."

"May I ask, how many kingdoms do you intend to write to?" Gad questioned.

"I intend to send a letter to every kingdom from here to Agrabah."

"Quite the range, your majesty," Storstrand commented, clearly surprised.

"I know, but I'll do whatever it takes, pardon my language, to find the son of a bitch."

"Understandable, Your Majesty," Gad gave a pause. "You also know that includes The Southern Isles, right?"

Agdar put a lot of strength into suppressing a childish groan. "As much as King Westergaard and I don't share the same viewpoints, and how much of a pig head he is, I have to ask him, and he's obligated to respond."

"If you say so. Don't be surprised if he pesters you to marry Princess Anna to one of his sons again." Gad then muttered under his breath. "Honestly, after years of rejecting those proposals, you would think he takes a hint…"

"I'm fully aware, Councilman. But I can deal with it. I'm willing to do what it takes to find this Fritjof."

Storstand walked into the main barracks of the Arendelle Army. He saw three men, Falk, Daniels, and Adams, waiting for him there. Upon seeing their captain, they stood firm and saluted him.

"Hello, you three. You're probably wondering why I have summoned you here, correct?" Storstrand spoke directly to them as he paced in their view.

"Sir, yes, sir!" All three responded.

"Good answer. I ask you all here because I have an important mission. One given directly by King Agdar himself. That is how important it is."

"What mission is this, Captain?" Falk asked.

"Your mission…" Storstrand pulls out a poster with a printed sketch of a man's head and large text, 'Fritjof,' on the bottom. "...Is to find this man."

The three soldiers gave each other confused looks. "Permission to ask you a question, Captain?" Adams stepped forward.

"Permission granted."

"Why are we looking for this…Fritjof?"

"He's a person of interest that the King wishes to look into."

"You wish for us to apprehend him, then?" Daniels spoke up

"No. We have…reason to believe that Fritjof is potentially dangerous. We don't know if he's alone or with others."

"So he's a criminal of sorts?" Falk guessed. "For what crime?"

Storstrand wanted to tell his men the truth, but he couldn't—not now. As much as he wishes to spread the news of Princess Elsa's return and send them to locate the man responsible for her capture, something the captain is certain they would take seriously, Storstrand made a promise to her and the king. That didn't make withholding information from his soldiers any easier. The captain prided himself on his honesty and openness. And while there was good reason, he felt like a hypocrite.

"I'm afraid that information is…classified." Storstrand expressed firmly.

"I see…" Falk responded.

"I wish I could say more, but I am not permitted to say more. What I can say is that the King has concerns about this man. And I need you to locate him if you could."

"Do you have any places for us to look, Captain?"

"Indeed I do, Falk." Storstrand handed Falk a map. "On this map, I have circled locations where this man could be. I need you three to scout these areas to determine whether this man is there or not."

"Most of these places seemed remote," Adams commented as he and the others too scanned the map in Falk's hands.

"Which is why I ask you three. I've seemed to recall each of you having camping experiences," Storstand stated.

"We do," Daniels answered.

"Then I think this should be easy for you three then. You are to search these selected spots for a stronghold. Fritjof could be hiding in them."

"A stronghold? Interesting place to look for," Falk pointed out.

"I know this may sound sketchy, and I could end up sending you on a wild goose chase, but this is a matter that the king is serious about. He would not ask me to do this if it wasn't."

"We understand, captain."

"If it does end up a wild goose chase, at least we'll get some time away from the castle," Adams declared.

"Don't treat this as a vacation, Adams." Storstrand reminded sternly

"No, sir. I didn't mean to insinuate otherwise."

"Good. Another thing I should bring up is that you all should travel as normal civilians, not as Arendelle soldiers. We don't want to risk him catching on to the fact that we're on to him."

"Don't worry, captain. We got this!" Daniels promised.

"Good. You three leave at first light tomorrow." Storstrand turned on his heels to walk away. "Oh, and another thing."

"Yes, Captain?"

"Bring Hall alongside with you.."

"You want us to bring the rookie? Are you sure that's a good idea?" Adams questioned.

"He's shown great improvement since you started helping with his training. I think this would be good for him. And I'm sure you three wouldn't mind his presence."

"I think he would be a good addition to this mission. Plus, he's fun to have around. Reminds me of all three of us when we first joined, eh boys?" Daniels went on happily.

"I guess having him come wouldn't hurt…" Falk pondered. "Alright, Captain. We'll let him come."

"Excellent. Relay what I told you to Hall. You are dismissed."

"Sir, yes, sir!" All three saluted.

Storstrand exited the barracks. All he can do is hope that this expedition will end up successful. Yet, a small part of him hopes Fritjof is nowhere in the country. The mere idea of a man like him slithering around in the same land made Storstrand feel uneasy. The thought of Fritjof bringing harm to his men even more so.

But Storstrand had faith in his men. They will succeed or, at the very least, come back in one piece. Maybe they won't find any trace of Fritjof. After all, if Storstrand had been him, he would've fled this country when Elsa had escaped.

One would either have to be stupid or too prideful to stay. What other reason could this man have?

Elsewhere. Far North...

Inside a vast room almost as big as the average ballroom lie a few dozen people. One group, in particular, had several bags filled with various types of riches. They were all talking about their loot, each with giddy expressions, claiming about how their clutch was more impressive than the other.

As the chatter continued in the vast room, one man strolled down the hall leading to it. His footsteps echoed heavily in the halls. He moved his hand through his slick dark brown hair as he walked. Then he scratched his face where a thin beard and mustache resided along with some scars. Right at the door, he adjusted the eyepatch covering his left eye and tightened the knife holster on his belt. With a deep breath, he walked through the doors.

The room fell silent as the man strolled in. On the end lay a large chair on elevated steps. It was painted in gold to emulate a mock golden throne. Every man in the room looked at him with respect. The Man kept his head up regally until he sat on the mock throne. Once settled, he turned his gaze to the group with the loot.

"Welcome back, gentlemen."

"It's a pleasure to be back here." One of the men bowed his head. "Lord Fritjof."

"I trust your thieving expeditions all went well?"

"You betcha, Boss!" Another one of the thieves spoke up.

Fritjof leaned forward. "Then I shall hear how they went. Would you care to go first?"

"Oh yes! The stuff I got are from Weaseltown-"

"Weselton! It's Weselton, you dolt!" A voice barked annoyingly.

"Oh right, my bad!" Fritjof could only roll his eyes in annoyance. "The stuff I got is from Weselton. I managed to get it from that pompous Duke…"

And so each thief gave their accounts of their thievery and how they managed to pull it off. Some were impressive. Others Fritjof could tell were exaggerating details in a desperate attempt to impress him. He'll commend them all, for they were each successful in their tasks, and their dedication was unquestionable.

After the last thief shared his tale of his task, Fritjof stood up from his chair. All eyes turned to him.

"My dear friends, you've all done well with your tasks. The riches you manage to steal show your dedication to my cause! With the loot you have stolen, we can finally get back on our feet after a decade of struggle!"

Several cheers bounced in the room.

"The past ten years have not been easy for us. Especially after our…Icy Incident."

Few of the men looked down at the mere mention of the word.

"Every day since has been a struggle. Many left our cause because they lost faith. They fled like cowards!"

"BOOOOO!" A couple of the men shouted.

"But you all remained loyal. No matter how tough things got for us, you stayed. For that, I am forever grateful. And because of your efforts, we have returned to where we were ten years prior. If we keep it up, we can return back to glory! Soon we will be strong enough that our mere name will strike fear into the mightiest Kingdoms in all of Europe!"

"Yeah!" A few men cheered.

"At this very moment, far beyond here, these Kingdoms LIE to the world. They act like they care for the people, but we all know the truth! Right?! They only care about those who benefit them! Us? They gloss over us like we're nothing! Treat us worse than dirt! Act like we don't exist! One day…They must see us after we bring them to their knees! And it will start with that pathetic, loathsome kingdom only south of here!"

Everyone in the room cheered in agreement.

"After that, others will follow! Corona! Equis! Dubroch! Tirulia! Maldonia! Weselton! The Southern Isles! And many more! We'll make sure…THAT THEY RUE THE DAY THEY WRONGED US!"

The room boomed with claps, cheers, and other celebratory sounds. Clearly, they were pleased with the prospect of this promise. All the while, Fritjof could only smile a firm grin.

The rest of the day was spent with the thieves either partying up, singing songs, telling dumb stories, getting drunk out of their minds, or all three. It was the ideal recipe for a good time for ruffians like them. But even then, at least one is bound to break away to get a break.

Fritjof sat in his private quarters at his desk, trinkets of items he had stolen over the past many years littered around the room. Fritjof had his gaze out the window. Outside, he saw the blankets of sunset covering the wilderness. Even in the sturdy walls of his quarters, he can still hear the festivities throughout the stronghold. As long they don't cause problems, he'll let the men have their fun.

A knock echoed on his door.

"Come in." One of his trusted underlings entered the room. "What have you got for me?"

"Message from my contact in Corona."

"The status of the Stabbington Brothers?" Fritjof asked, his gaze still lingered to the window.

"Still in Corona custody, milord." The Underling answered.

Fritjof let out a disappointed breath. "I supposed that shouldn't be a surprise. A shame. I would've loved to have them back in my service. They've been helpful with acquiring things before..." He turns to The Underling. "Are you enjoying the festivities?"

"Absolutely, milord! Your speech was also wonderful!" The Underling responded hastily with cheerfulness.

"I'm glad you think so. I do my best to ensure those under my hand are well-motivated and taken care of. You let me know if there are any problems."

"We are all forever grateful, milord." The Underling bowed his head.

"As long as you keep your nose clean, do your job, and more good things may come."

"Of course, milord."

"Good. You have my leave to go."

The Underling turned to the door but stopped. Fritjof instantly could tell there was something on the man's mind. "Is there something else you wish to discuss?"

"Actually…I do," The Underling answered almost nervously.

"Out with it then."

"Do you…truly intend on bringing down the kingdoms?" Fritjof could only give a quizzical look to the man. The Underling started panicking. "Please don't take this as me disrespecting you! I'm merely curious!"

Fritjof lifted his hand. "No need to fret."

"Oh, thank God…" The Underling let out a relieved breath.

"Now to answer your question…I'm going to be honest: I didn't initially start with that goal. Over time, the addition of other kingdoms became an unexpected bonus. My goal was fixated on one particular kingdom's downfall when I first started this."

"What kingdom would that be, milord?"

Fritjof stood from his desk. The Underling watched him walk to the side of the room. There, a large wall lay with the Emblem of a Crocus Flower, with several knives sticking out of it.

"That kingdom would be Arendelle."

"I guess that makes sense since it's the closest kingdom." The Underling let out a pregnant pause. "May I ask, what did they do for you hate them that much?"

Fritjof turned his eyes to a frame on a table below the Crocus. The frame had a printed picture of four large stone pillars, each shaped differently and bearing diamond symbols. Fritjof grabbed the frame in his hand, stroking it gently with his fingers, his expression longing and…painful.

"Lord Fritjof?" The Underling's voice snapped Fritjof back to reality, stiffing his expression.

"The Arendelle Royal family took something from me. Because of them, I could never return to my home." Fritjof explained calmly, gently setting the picture frame back on the table. "The only thing that kept me going for the past 28 years is my desire to crumble the Royal Family."

"I see. And…how do you intend to take Royals down?" The Underling questioned.

Fritjof reached his hand to his knife holster, pulling out the weapon. The knife was sharp, but it was clear that it had been through a lot in its time. He gazed at the tool for several seconds. With a loud slam, he shoved the knife into the heart of the Crocus.

"Does that answer your question?" Fritjof asked with a casual, calm tone.

"Yes, milord. You made your point," The Underling masked his nerves.

"I want the royal family to feel the same pain I felt. And I would've accomplished that by now…" Fritjof's fingers graze his eyepatch. "...if I hadn't let that little snow brat slip through my fingers! She would've made my revenge perfect. Because of her loss, I had to spend the past decade getting back on my feet."

"And your efforts are seemingly finally paying off. If we keep it up, we might be back on our feet quickly."

"I promised myself that I wouldn't let anything stop me. No matter what it takes, how many obstacles, I will have my vengeance on the Arendelle Royal Family." Fritjof gives one more angry gaze at the Crocus symbol. "For it is all that I have left…"

I really got to update this more often like I used too...Well at least its a tad longer than the last chapter. But after so long we finally got introduced to our villain of the story: Fritjof. I hope he left a good impression on you guys

Minor note: couple months ago I took a trip to Disney World and finally got to ride Frozen Ever After at EPCOT.

Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews.