#frozen tangled

Let's continue, shall we?

All Frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney, all I own is the story and some original characters.

Chapter 7: Decisions

Flynn had unwittingly grown used to a certain rhythm of life inside the chapel, deciding to help the priest with the upkeep. The priest was harmless and pleasant enough; always welcoming the people inside the church with an amiable face. His voice was always warm, never harsh, unkind or condescending. The priest was in his twilight years, but that didn't stop him from helping those in need; be it a confession or an act of charity, the priest carried out his duties with heart and without complaint.

Oh, Father is happy with his lot, mused Flynn as he went about his work. If only he could say that about himself. Sure, it had been a nice change of scenery from the grit and grime of the streets of the Rhinelands, but that was the life he had always known. Sure, he hadn't suffered want for the last two months, and the people had been kind to him, but that didn't suit him. He considered himself too hard for this two-mule town. Moreover, the place spooked him out. How was it possible for every grotesque and angel in the church to stare directly at him, regardless of direction or position? Was he imagining things, or was someone devilishly smart enough to place them this way, for people to face themselves in their guilt after committing a sin? One thing was for sure, he had to leave. He could not afford to feel so vulnerable all the time. How could one survive when pierced by such hard hitting notions of moral good? It wasn't a good survival tactic, especially for him.

The church was small but opulent. It certainly had a lot of gold that could set someone like him for life, but to him that wouldn't do it. The hustle never ends for the street rat, so they say. Flynn decided to steal a little and flee in the dead of night; for he couldn't face the priest and rob him, he would lose all conviction. Sure, he would break an old man's trust and heart by stealing from him, but that would be better than looking him in the eye and robbing him.

Now that was something Markus could have done.

Flynn's face fell as he remembered his departed partner in crime; now Markus would have had the balls to take what he wanted, and no god could have changed his mind. Unlike me, too emotional and too much of a wuss.

I threw my heart around for everyone, and it got stomped on, every time. Markus left me, that epic moron, to end up being killed himself. So did Mabel, poor wretch, she didn't trust me enough to let me help her, and she's gone forever too. To hell with the both of them and their 'ideals' and 'principles', they got what was coming to them.

It was a bitter lesson for Flynn to accept, but in that moment, he took it heart. There is no benefit in standing up for anything, as that is what the world uses to bring one down. The world runs on give and take, and his hands were meant to take.

He set his eyes on the two gold candlesticks. For some reason, they attracted his attention far more than the gem studded prayer basin. The candlesticks would surely be easier to carry, and he could escape without making any noise. So, he crept to the mass room in the middle of night, carefully lifted the two candlesticks and put them in the satchel he had taken from his living quarters. With that done, he made a beeline to the main door he had left ajar for this very purpose. He had already made sure his horse was untethered, so he could leave in as little time as possible. He was almost out when a familiar voice made him freeze in position.

'Flynn?'

Ah, the thing he had been dreading the most.

The priest was holding a gas lamp in hand, which was a recent invention in Europe. Long gone were the days, when candle lights were the only source of luminescence. And surely, the mass room lit up and unmasked Flynn as the thief he was attempting to be.

'What are you doing, child?'

'Forgive me Vater, but this is no place for me. I'm leaving.'

'With the candlesticks?' An old man with unusually sharp eyes at night, truly a miracle.

'Sorry Vater, I don't have anything else.'

'You could stay here, begin a new life and live in peace. You already congregate well and mix nicely with the local kids. Why ruin it?'

Flynn was starting to lose patience; Why can't this poor old fool see that I'm beyond rescuing?

'That's very well, Vater, but it's not what I want to do anymore. I must confess, it has been swell to be well fed and cared for under the watchful eye of the lord, but now it is time for me to venture out back in the open.'

The priest fell silent for a few moments. Flynn had never seen him deep in thought like this. Usually, the priest would always have a convincing answer to provide or question to raise. Apparently, this was not the case this time. At last, he spoke.

'Well, I'll give you two choices: either have a lifetime of learning, helping people, gaining contentment and giving back to the world, or have a lifetime of chasing the hustle, getting satisfaction and taking your piece. It is your decision to make, and I'll respect what you decide for yourself.'

Unlike the priest, Flynn had his answer ready.

'All due respect, I once had a friend who would have leapt at the first choice without bothering about the second. Alas, I ain't that gifted. Sorry Vater, I can't stay. My hands aren't meant to give.'

There was pitch silence in the church, but Flynn knew that the priest's hopes for him were shattered. Still, the priest had a solemn acceptance and resignation on his face when he said, 'All right, I accept your decision. But do remember, if you change your path midway, it won't be pleasant. Also, keep this document. It legally brands you as the owner of the two candlesticks. I may accept a crease or crack in one's belief, but I cannot let sin abide in my church. So, I have absolved you of your sin of theft, you may leave in peace. May these candlesticks help light your path to success.' Finished the priest as he handed a small piece of paper to the nine-year-old.

As Flynn took his leave and continued south in the early hours of the morning, he realized bitterly that he couldn't ever part with the candlesticks.

A similarly desperate yet vastly different figure in stature and physicality rode on in the starry Arendellian night towards the north to find answers about her fourteen-month-old child of destiny.

Queen Iduna was eight and a half months pregnant when she made the trip to Grand Pabbie's lair. The old rock pseudo human hermit was deep in his winter meditation, essential to keep the winters forgiving, but in that moment, queen Iduna didn't care.

'Grand Pabbie! Please help me! I'm in a desperate situation.' Queen Iduna pleaded.

The sage opened his eyes and welcomed her graciously, but Iduna could sense that he didn't appreciate the disturbance. Moreover, Grand Pabbie made his feelings clear in the very next moment.

'Your Majesty, I respect your concern for your family and your child, but you must understand that I am accountable to an authority far greater than the crown of Arendelle, or all the crowns in Europe for that matter.'

'Forgive the intrusion, oh great one. However, I'm at a loss for how to deal with my daughter Elsa. I love her with all I could ever give, but her powers are beginning to worry me a little. There have been multiple incidents where her powers have spiralled out of control. Her ice goes berserk at the worst possible moments. Just the other day, her cradle antics caused the entire south wing to be covered in snow. Thank goodness, there was no visitor in the palace, or our well-kept secret would have been out to the world. And another babbling child would not help the matter. Tell me Pabbie, should Agnarr and I be prepared for the worst?' Iduna finished in a panicky state.

'One must always be prepared for the worst, your majesty. Be it a genuine threat, or mere embarrassment in your case' Grand Pabbie replied quietly.

'Oh Grand Pabbie, you refuse to understand my plight. Elsa is our heir, and the days of witch hunts are not long gone. Must I remind you of the devastating division between the north and the south? Public knowledge of a child with powers does not bode well for us. All of Europe could declare war upon us from sheer terror, if the common people themselves don't make short work of her. I can never stomach the possibility of my little girl falling victim to such atrocities.' Queen Iduna wept vehemently.

'Everyone gets what is coming to them. Starting with you, you have made a very poor decision to travel to my plain in such a delicate condition. With this poorly thought out choice, you could have put yourself and your to be born child at terrible risk.' Grand Pabbie replied coldly.

'Please don't scare me further, I'm petrified enough. Early yesterday morning, I happened to come across of the written history of Agnarr's family dating back from the fourteenth century, how there was another like Elsa, how she survived the black plague, how her powers were discovered, and how she was burned at the stake for the same. I would die before I could ever let that happen.' Iduna finished with terror in her voice.

'Alright, I have decided to help you. However, I would advise you to be very careful with your one question.' Grand Pabbie relented and reassured her.

'Thank you so much, oh great one! Please tell me, how could my daughter avoid such a doomed fate that killed her ancient ancestor? Is there a way to know how to avoid that danger?'

Even as Iduna finished asking the question, she realized it was not the right question, and Pabbie's resigned expression upon hearing it confirmed her realization.

'Your Majesty, can you ever ask a river how to avoid drowning in it if you can't swim? Or ever ask a burning pyre how to avoid getting burned after touching it with your bare hand? Similarly, you can't ask how someone could avoid their fate. Every choice people make, ever decision they enforce in their life leads them somewhere they may or may not like. Sure, there is a way for Elsa to avoid her fate and live peacefully, but for that to happen, she would have to walk on eggshells her entire life. You still wish to know how she would do that?'

'Yes, it is better to know and to be prepared.'

'Well, I see three instances in her life so far where her life could change in a split second. First, when the time comes, she must not panic. Second, when the time comes, she must not abandon those closest to her, and finally, when the time comes, she must not give in to rage, fear, anger and hatred. Can you make sure she holds true to these instances forever?'

Iduna was dumbstruck; she could not fathom how she would fit in her daughter's split-second decision in these moments.

'I don't understand, Grand Pabbie, how do I help my child in this situation?'

'That is what I am trying to tell you. Your child may have the gift over a force of nature, but she is still a human child. Soon she'll grow up to be a lady who would be required to make her own life changing decisions. Such decisions are guided by instinct and experience, and many a times, one must make those decisions themselves. No one could influence them in that moment even if they wanted to. Therefore, you must trust your child to do the next right thing.'

Iduna finally put two and two together 'I apologize in earnest Grand Pabbie. Agnarr and I will support Elsa no matter what happens, I promise.'

'Don't promise, just commit the deed. For you don't owe me anything, It is a debt you have inflicted upon yourselves.' Grand Pabbie warned.

'I understand. Thank you. ' Iduna finished as she moved to leave.

Grand Pabbie heard the call of the wolves harmonizing with the voice as he made a sudden statement ' Name your second born after the wolves, it is a name they'll carry well.'

'Alright' Iduna said.

The ride back home was a little more relaxed as the queen found her way back in the palace and into her chambers as she saw Agnarr and Elsa sleeping peacefully. She had just laid down beside them when she felt something wet trickle down her leg.

Iduna woke Agnarr up at once.

'What happened? Feeling sick?' Agnarr asked even as he was half-asleep.

'Agnarr, I think my water has broken.' Iduna replied.

The king was up in an instant.

When a new life announces its arrival, it always creates a hustle-bustle around it. It doesn't care how much pandemonium is around it, it will make its presence known. King Agnarr held Elsa close to himself. Now the young princess was excited; she was going to be a big sister, or so her papa was telling her. Elsa kept kicking around, sending ice in all corners of the corridor. Agnarr had gotten used to her shenanigans by now, and while he didn't mind her antics with her powers beyond a little embarrassment, he wished that she would go to sleep. But convincing Elsa to sleep when she could be getting a playmate soon? Easier to squeeze milk out of a stone.

Ah well, it will be over soon, the king thought.

It was a tougher birth than the first, with Dr. Klaus and his attendants trying their best to make the birth less effortful. Agnarr almost fell asleep leaning on the corridor walls when he heard,

'You tell that son of a bitch to get his ass in here!' Agnarr could recognize that shouting voice anywhere.

'But your majesty, the king-' the midwives began.

'I don't give a shit! If I must squeeze this watermelon out of me, I want him to see that, goddamnit!' Iduna bellowed from her chamber.

As Agnarr entered the room, he almost turned to leave to avoid being squeamish when Iduna called out,

'Where are you going, you devil?! I'm not doing this alone, understand?!'

The king admitted defeat, handed Elsa to one of the attendants, and replied, 'Of course, I'll always be there for you.'

'Your majesty, please breathe normally, keep pushing and avoid shouting, we're almost done. You may clench the King's hand if you feel abnormal pain.' Dr. Klaus the consummate professional, urged the queen to calm down.

Iduna clenched on Agnarr's hand, almost twisting it in the process.

'Oh Iduna, please be careful.' Pleaded the king through clenched teeth.

'Oh Agnarr, fuck you, you aren't squeezing this small animal out yourself, are you?' Iduna hissed back as she concentrated on her breathing.

'Agnarr, promise me something' the queen started after an exhausting session.

'What, love?' Agnarr asked.

'You won't let them trap Elsa, you won't let them doom her, do you promise?' Iduna asked expectantly.

Agnarr answered within a split second 'Of course, Iduna.' A decision that would be immensely important and tough, but he didn't know in that moment.

Then one final push and it was over.

It was a little bundle of energy, taking the dark hair after her mother, and her little nose and face after her father.

As the wolves howled in the early morning, Iduna knew what to call her second born:

Olva, Olva shall be her name.

As Elsa squirmed in the attendant's hands, she moved back to her father's embrace who introduced her, 'Look here Elsa, say hello to your little sister Olva.'

The princess hesitated for a minute, then spoke, 'H-Hi Olba.'

Iduna and Agnarr were besides themselves with joy.

Her first word and sentence!

'Congratulations your majesty! It is a girl! I am happy to report that mother and child are in perfect health.' Dr Klaus beamed with satisfaction.

'Thank you so much Dr. Klaus!' Beamed the king as he hugged the good doctor.

Iduna whispered to her new-born 'Welcome to the world.'

Hmm, another chapter like the previous one. Hopefully you people enjoyed it.

Well, the die has been cast, and Europe shall endure the consequences. Or will it?

Onward with the story :)

All Frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney. All I own is this retelling and some original characters.

Chapter 10: Felino the crooked nose

February the 5th, 1828,

‘You’re a frigid, wormy piece of shit, you know that?’, growled the recently anointed Tsar at the Arendellian Monarch. Not a good sign for the conference the concert of Europe had arranged; the Monarch of Arendelle was hellbent on closing his country yet again, and no one was willing to budge on their stance.

‘I care not for the impression you choose to have about me, your majesty. I have my reasons and my fears to support my decision. I have to do what I feel is best for my kingdom, as would you if you faced a decision of a similar magnitude.’ Agnarr stated his position calmly, even as he felt no genuine respect for the Russian Monarch. Unlike his late brother, Tsar Nicholas the first had no great capacity for empathy and understanding. He had chosen to keep himself and his people ignorant. After all, what could one say of the sovereign who treated his highest officials and closest advisors like the serfs he saw them to be, and the holy synod under him bragged openly about how it was their god given duty to keep the downtrodden as they were. Oh, how their man, Sergei Uvarov, the Tsar’s minister of education, openly declared: “If I can extend Russia’s childhood another fifty years I will consider my mission accomplished.”

Oh, the Tsar saw himself as a god, and a jealous one at that. Agnarr understood that and knew that as a fellow sovereign, the Tsar could do little but rant in his face for the insult. Even if he would want to wage war upon Arendelle, he wouldn’t wish to give up access to the only warm water seaport he had. Still, Agnarr’s worries were far greater than some disgruntled people in power.

Elsa had lost control of her powers and was crippled in her fear, Anna had been forced to selective amnesia from Grand Pabbie, leaving no trace of Elsa’s powers and Olva...well she hadn’t been so fortunate. Against the advice of Grand Pabbie, he and Iduna had insisted on the procedure of wiping her memory clean of Elsa’s powers and the accident. The hermit warned of the consequences he was facing now with Olva, but how was he to know in his panic and desperation? Now the poor girl had begun experiencing fits and severe headaches, along with bouts of fainting for several minutes. He hadn’t slept this past month properly in the worry of what could happen to his family. Now he had a solution, and he would not back off from it. He must protect his family in any way possible. He must.

‘Your majesties, please don’t antagonise each other. This concerns all of us. You’re not the only ones troubled here. King Agnarr, you’d best explain yourself.’, queen Sophia spoke firmly as she presided over the conference. Agnarr’s declaration had shocked everyone, and he was yet to provide an explanation.

‘Thank you, queen Sophia. I have no intent on stepping on anyone’s face or insulting anyone. This sudden policy of isolation is a measure of precaution. I have it on reliable sources and personal knowledge that there are elements of revolution and insurgency brewing up in my kingdom. I can’t ignore it like the previous bourbon king of France in his time, god rest his soul. I must deal with these rebels quickly and with extreme prejudice. Because if I don’t then Arendelle falls forever, and if Arendelle falls, all northern Europe shall sink along with it.

And before you decide on persecuting war against me, ask yourselves this. Haven’t we had enough of war? We saw 2 decades of war followed by a decade of relative peace. If you ask me, I’d rather prefer the latter. I make this tough choice for the safety of all Europe, please understand.’

He paused to size up the room, who could be his allies and enemies hereafter. Corona and Austria-Hungary were definitely his allies; he knew Reginald would support him in the end. Weselton and the English would be against it; his partnership with them and America would be at risk, he’ll have to accommodate them somehow. Same was the situation with Russia. Maybe the Ottomans had to be brought in to keep Russia in check? Spain and the Southern Isles could be neutral; the Spanish could not care less, their main rivals were the English and the French, they would only vote as a formality. As for the Southern Isles were represented by queen Paulina, for the king had taken ill. On the surface, Paulina looked pleasant and charismatic, yet Agnarr knew that she would be a formidable and dangerous foe if he didn’t play this right. He began to speak again but was rudely interrupted.   

‘And what would be these insurgent elements? The Northuldra?’, asked the duke of Weselton. The room tensed at the duke’s blatant attempt towards badgering the king of Arendelle. Agnarr had to fight a very strong impulse towards bashing the duke’s head on the wall. After composing himself mentally, he replied with barely concealed intentions ‘Why, yes. They have been neglected for far too long. I must attempt to bring them up with the kingdom. They are too obscure and are getting discontent.’

‘Just the language your father used, didn’t he? And where is he now? Lost like the rest of them. I’m telling you; this country is a lost cause. The Northuldra are ‘discontent’? Don’t make me laugh. They’re out for your and your family’s blood. They have been for years.’, the duke was clearly enjoying himself at Agnarr’s expense.

‘And if I hope to pursue a peaceful solution and keep Europe out of the mess, what is so wrong with that, duke?’, Agnarr nearly spat out the last part.

‘It’s always something personal. What, a problem with your kids now?’

‘Why, your uncouth son of a-‘

‘ENOUGH!’, the presiding queen roared. ‘That’s the second time you have tried to lay discord in the concert on purpose, duke. Once it was over my kidnapped child and now this. I swear, if it happens again, you’re going to meet your maker without warning, in front of everyone!’

‘I can’t believe you’re still going on about your bloody kid. She’s fucking dead! I always get enraged how the kings of Europe are disturbed about such trivial matters, and I’m to be punished because I call out the bullshit for what it is?! Fine. Hang, draw, and quarter me all you want, that does not change the fact that once again, some people are sullying the good name of the concert for their own interests.’, the duke spat venom without a care.

‘I’ve heard enough. Marshals, break the duke’s kneecaps.’, an enraged Sophia gave the cold order to her personal guard. The duke’s bravado melted away instantly, and he shrunk in his stature as the marshals came to deal with him.

‘Sophie, stop!’ King Reginald shouted.

‘Pray tell, what now, Reginald?’ his spouse was beyond annoyed by now.

The king of Corona whispered in his spouse’s ear ‘We’ll get the coward some other time. I need to talk sense into Agnarr somehow. I advise you to break for recess.’ A rare sight for the usually tempestuous king to calm down his calmer, more pragmatic wife.

Queen Sophia sighed heavily and announced a recess.

Once they were alone, Reginald confronted Agnarr ‘What’s gotten into you, Agnarr? You’re supposed to be the sensible one amongst us two.’       

‘I’ll tell you what’s sensible. I should invade the fucking duchy of Weselton, lay it to fucking waste, burn it to the fucking ground, and salt the fucking remains barren forever!’ Agnarr snarled with uncharacteristic murder in his eyes.

‘Oh, calm down, crusader. I hate the duke much more than you do, believe me. Nevertheless, even I must agree with that poltroon over your course of action. It’s drastic and uncalled for. Tell me honestly what’s bothering you. We’ll make it right. Tell me.’

‘You don’t believe me? I told you every reason I have for doing this. My kingdom has only just recovered from the previous war. I can’t risk another. I certainly can’t afford it to become a pan-European conflict. At the end of the day, I just want my heir to inherit a stable state. An agitated group of people is not the hallmark of a stable state. Even if it takes me years, I must resolve this once and for all.’

Reginald spoke empathetically ‘Alright, but it still is a visceral reaction to the situation. I think foreign aid would only help more. Are you sure about it?’

Agnarr thought about telling the truth to his best friend, but ultimately decided otherwise; he couldn’t let the secret get out in any circumstance.

‘Yes I am. I also believe that those so-called insurgents are supplied by foreign powers themselves; they would like nothing more than to make my kingdom their colony. And that fucking Weselton shill... I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s behind the whole damn thing.’

‘That may be true, but without solid evidence, we can’t deal with him effectively. We must be sure.’ Reginald advised him.

‘Alright, but I can’t back down from my position. Yes, my kingdom will suffer in the short run, but I know we’ll be secure and united eventually.’

Ultimately, the concert decided that Arendelle would only keep one point of access open to the outside world; the main port. Only diplomats and special traders would be allowed. Every other traveller, from tourist to student would have to be barred from entering the country. It may cause uprising among the international students in his kingdom, but he’ll have to deal with them on his down. To preserve the security, the red tape for the traders and businessmen became very harsh. All, in service towards protecting my family; Agnarr thought.

A week later

A craven figure along with half a dozen guards floated in a rowboat towards one of the northern shores of Arendelle, beyond the mist. A hooded figure in silhouette waited for them on shore, heavily dressed to protect them self against the bitter February cold. Upon reaching the shore, the hooded bowed in respect and said ‘Welcome, honourable duke of Weselton. I hope your journey was pleasant enough.’

‘As pleasant a trip I could hope in stormy, waning winter, thank you for asking.’, the duke removed his cloak and coat to make his face more visible, and gestured his guards to disembark and stand around. The scrawny man took a moment to stretch himself, and at length, spoke ‘How many instances of forbidden people wandering into your grounds?’

‘Not as many as before, however a group of the Iceni tribe were intercepted in the valley of death during patrol two months ago and dealt with without exception. No survivors that we know of.’

‘Good, the illegals are dwindling, soon they would be no problem. However, as long as Arendelle stands, you’ll never be safe. We’ll have to confront them once and for all.’

‘Let’s continue our discussion on the way to camp, honourable duke.’

The Northuldrian camp was twenty-five kilometres inland from the seashore, but the spirits had grown very erratic in recent years, so the Northuldra had to find new routes to their homes every few weeks. The latest incident was particularly severe; a landslide had destroyed the usual detour they took, so they had to take the tributaries by another boat, a slower but safer way of travel.

‘Forgive me, honourable duke. I know travel by water does not agree with you.’

‘I’ll live. Tell me, how is everything holding up north of the mist?’

‘We’re eking out a living somehow. As you know, the rivers have been gradually changing course towards the south, our arable lands are going barren as a result. Adding to the problem, the rains are becoming scarcer with every passing year bit by bit. I regret to inform you that the poppy plantation is facing a loss, the raw material for the heroin would be short this time.’

‘It seems you’ve lost the plot, haven’t you? How will I get you your weapons if your end of the bargain is low? Weapons, armament, lumber and steam technology for ships don’t come cheap, you know?’ the duke said with the faux humility that masked grave threats underneath, and the hooded figure knew well what those threats were. Nevertheless, a low yield was not the biggest problem.

‘There’s more, honourable duke. Arendelle has tried to sue for peace and is willing to cooperate.’

‘Yes, I heard. We both know it’s nonsense.’

‘I’m not so sure. The terms they have offered seem rather reasonable.’

‘I’m sure they are. They may be too reasonable, I’m afraid. Implying something between the lines. The implication being disastrous for the Northuldra. If you ask me, I would never take any terms Europe offers at face value.’

‘I’m a fair sceptic of the south, just as you are. But since the rise of the mist, they have not engaged in any big skirmishes.’

The duke sighed and said ‘It pains me to say it, but you lack an ocean of imagination. There are uncountable ways to fight a war of attrition, and Arendelle has chosen the most insidious way.’

‘What do you mean, duke?’

‘I’d rather tell this to everyone at once, instead of making it a poor game of translation errors.’, with that, the duke fell silent, knowing full well that the hooded figure’s doubts had been flared up.

After a voyage of two hours, the party reached the camp. A huge crowd had gathered upon the riverbank where the canoe stopped. The hooded figure removed his hood and stood beside the Northuldra leader as her most trusted vassal. The Northuldra leader went by the name of Yelena, a woman moving towards middle age, standing barely above the duke in stature, but those aged eyes had seen many ups and downs. The leader slightly prostrated herself before the duke; the Northuldra way of showing respect towards authority.

‘Welcome, o duke! I hope your voyage was pleasant.’

‘As much as I could hope it to be. I must say, the Northuldra’s native lands grow more beautiful every time I venture up’ the duke said.

‘Your grace flatters us. I believe my trusted vassal has given you the lowdown for everything that has happened in the past three months. We’ll be happy to discuss a compromise for the goods you need.’

‘Thank you, your excellency. However, my worries include the survival of the Northuldra as well.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘You may have received terms from the king of Arendelle for a peaceful cessation in the past few days, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, they are more reasonable than I expected.’

‘I feared so, for if you paid attention, you’d realise that the terms are too positive. They’re willing to overlook the massacre of the group of Iceni that happened two months ago. Not to mention the fact that they may have stumbled about the truth about our trade operation as well.’

‘Speaking of the trade operation, what we may be short of in terms of goods, we’ll make up in plunder in the North Atlantic. I have sanctioned three fleets for the same purpose later this week.’

‘That is encouraging, but I must warn you, the plundering operation would become very difficult very soon. What with the king of Arendelle sealing the kingdom’s maritime and overland borders.’

‘Excuse me, come again?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you knew.’

‘No, I didn’t. Please enlighten us, your grace.’

‘Well, your excellency, the king of Arendelle has decided to isolate the country, and I quote his speech: “This sudden policy of isolation is a measure of precaution. I have it on reliable sources and personal knowledge that there are elements of revolution and insurgency brewing up in my kingdom. I can’t ignore it like the previous bourbon king of France in his time, god rest his soul. I must deal with these rebels quickly and with extreme prejudice. Because if I don’t, then Arendelle falls forever, and if Arendelle falls, all northern Europe shall sink along with it.” Now you tell me, is this the language a man would use while suing for peace?’

Yelena became quiet for a moment, taking in al the information. At length, she asked ‘What are the possible ramifications of this declaration?’

‘They could be numerous, but I’ll tell you the most obvious one. Within a month at the latest, the coasts would be dotted by the Arendellian navy, putting a blockade through which nothing except their own ships could get in or out. You can imagine they would be only too happy to hunt down your pirate ships before you’re able to secure any loot at all. You can’t raid through the land, as the mist is your most powerful jailer. It will surely be a stifling experience; I won’t deny it.’

‘What if we do sue for peace? If we sincerely send an envoy to the south?’

‘Aye, you could try that. In fact, I suggest you try that without fail.’ Interrupted a tall, dark man as he made his way inside Yelena’s tent.’

‘Mathias, just because the mist forces me to tolerate and learn to like your presence doesn’t mean you interrupt me in meetings about the matters of state.’ Yelena bristled with annoyance.

‘Believe me, once the mist lifts up, I’ll ride south, first thing on my to-do list.’

‘Mathias, you look familiar. Tall, dark, muscular, good posture. Does your Ethiopian father still till the grain and tan the leather shoes?’, making harsh, cutting remarks was a talent the duke used well.

‘No. Does the honourable duke take me for his wretched bastard slaves in the Congo?’ Mathias growled.

‘Gentlemen, please. Your grace, please don’t mind Mathias. Yes, he’s a southerner. He was in king Runeard’s personal guard from what I gather. He may look brutish and imposing, but he’s harmless and dare I say, a halfway decent man. He doesn’t usually interrupt one of my meetings, so this instance must be special. Tell us big boy, what should bother us?’ Yelena finished as she turned to Mathias.

‘I’m sorry. I’m not willing to entertain the stories of a deserter.’, the duke said nonchalantly.

‘As if your pip squeakiness has ever been in a battle to judge a trapped prisoner of war?’ Mathias seethed.

‘See, even he agrees, we’re at war.’ Oh, they were all playing right into my hands, the duke thought with glee.

‘Yes, and now peace must be made. Yelena, this is not the time to go on the offensive. Trust me.’ Mathias faced Yelena as he settled down beside her.

‘Maybe, but it is a peace we would be forced into. We want it on our own terms, Mathias. I understand you’re homesick, but we haven’t had a home to go back to for decades. We will assert our terms onto the king, and he will have to accept it. If he doesn’t, it’s war.’

‘Lofty words, your excellency. Alas, there’s no substance or weight to back your words. You’ll be blockaded soon, and travel by land is impossible anyhow. I suggest you make a permanent settlement here and be done with it.’, the duke laid the bait.

‘And perpetually disturb the peace of the spirits by claiming their sacred forest? Never.’, and Yelena took it.

‘Well, I can’t negotiate such a big difference in your quantity of goods. You’ll have to offer me something if I must continue supporting your struggle. What about lumber from the forest?’

‘You must be reading a fucking comedy. When we refuse to make a permanent settlement in the forest, YOU PROCEED TO SUGGEST SOMETHING FAR WORSE?!’, Mathias had half a mind to strangle the duke right there, when he was stopped by Yelena.

‘Sit down, Mathias! We’re in desperate times. We’ll have to do what we must in order to survive.’

‘Making a bad situation worse is survival?! Can you imagine or fathom withstanding the rage of the spirits if we cut down the forest?! How can you even consider this, Yelena?’

‘If I may ease your concerns, I’ll vouch for the fact that a sacred relic commands a lot of value in the market. Especially amongst those who are powerful, proud, wealthy and don’t ask too many questions. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll introduce a tiny amount in the market. People would recognize it as sacred or magical with plenty of history behind it. Once I do that, I can manipulate the price for it and bring you all the money, all the weapons, all the ships you need.’, the duke reassured the Northuldra leader.

Yelena spoke at length ‘Alright, I agree to the venture. Let’s begin with ten logs.’

Mathias hung his head in defeat and nursed his forehead, which had begun to throb. This is not going to end well.

Yelena tried to comfort him after the duke left ‘Listen, for every tree we cut down, we’ll plant ten, I promise.’

‘Even if you do that, it won’t be the sacred forest of the fifth spirit anymore.’ Mathias said ruefully.

As the duke made his way to the ship waiting off the coast on his rowboat, one of his taciturn guards asked him ‘Your grace, why do we need these bunch of sheep worshippers?’

The duke grinned darkly ‘When a rival nation is at war with itself, best let it consume itself.’

Around the same time, somewhere in northern Greece

‘Rider, move your ass and get over here!’ A portly man called out as he wiped a greasy hand on his apron.

‘Coming, Elios!’ Flynn came running in. He was now a man of seventeen; having seen a fair bit of the world by now and had been working with Elios for a few months. Elios had hidden Flynn to save him from ‘The Hawk’, a notorious smuggler who had trapped him in his ring. In return, Flynn agreed to work for him in his front business.

‘Why must I go through this fucking chore every time? To have to call you up like a fucking parade float to just do your blessed job?’

‘I’m sorry for being two minutes late. I already did the prep for tonight; the bar has been cleaned and stocked. I just took a nap, calm your tits.’

‘I’ve heard that many times, give me something new Flynn’ Elios rolled his eyes.

‘What do you think I’ve been doing? Making merry around the city square? Come on, I know better than that.’

‘Don’t bother lying to me. I swear, one of those women is gonna make you the sacrificial goat someday.’

‘Alright, I heard your speech. Got it, can we move on?’

Elios wiped some sweat off his forehead and asked, ‘You know who’s coming tonight?’

‘Yeah I do, friends loyal to the Greek cause.’ Flynn answered without faltering

‘Not just any friend, mind you. The Gent is coming along with the Sicilians.’

Flynn’s ears perked up at that piece of news. The Gent was a legend in Northern Greece, almost singlehandedly forming the on-land resistance against the Ottomans in the Greek war of independence. He had been involved in the resistance for nearly seven years now and was lobbying for foreign support.

‘Wow, that’s a hero if I ever saw one.’

‘I told you I’ll introduce you to him soon. Today’s the day.’

‘Now, why would he visit an affluent restaurant filled with Turks day in and out, I’m sure I don’t know.’ Flynn stated incuriously.

‘Hey Flynn, let his people worry about it. I’m sure his people would be clever enough to figure it out.’ Elios was a practical man who knew the streets well, however, forethought was not his strongest suit.

‘No, Elios. Hear me out. If the Gent is ambushed here, we’re done for. Everything will be up for grabs and I know neither of us would like the prick of the cold sabre chopping our necks. And if we know The Gent is coming, the officials certainly know. And if the Sicilians find out, you’ll end up wearing concrete shoes, old boy. You may know the gutters and the roads, but I know loyalty.’

‘What do you suppose we do now? We can’t really serve them in public view.’

‘That is true. Tell you what, let’s clear the cellar for their dinner. I’m sure they don’t want any outsider to hear what they are discussing amongst themselves. Also, I think you should serve them personally, Elios.’

‘No can do. I’m the front. If I don’t stay there, they’ll investigate. You’ll have to serve them yourself. I’m sorry Flynn. The Gent trusts me, if he sees that I consider you worthy, he’ll be comfortable.’

But I don’t know the first thing about him and the others. What if I offend them without meaning to?’

‘Don’t be stupid, Flynn. We both know you know better than that. If the service is good, they’ll fill your pockets with enough dosh to set you up for years. If I truly know you, you wouldn’t miss this opportunity for the world.’

‘Alright, I’ll do it. Say Elios, what if I warm them personally first about the last-minute change of scenery?’

‘No. I’ll have to warn them myself. Set the cellar up. I did contact them two days ago; I’ll do it again.’

‘Just make sure you’re not followed.’

‘Hey Rider, who knows the street better?’

‘You do, clearly.’

‘Yup. I’ll be back soon.’

A few hours later, a party of people showed up. There was the Gent, a tall slender man, worn down by the hiding and fighting. His face was warm enough, save for the green eyes that could bore holes through the Earth, and a crooked mouth that had a scare across the top lip. Still, he felt like a man who could fight forever. As for the Sicilians, they were something else entirely.

It was a band of seven people. The man most fancily dressed, along with the ruby ring on his little finger and the gold watch and chain, was obviously the leader. The six were presumably his bodyguards, each one burlier and more imposing that the last, looking like killers happy to kill a priest in the middle of a sermon. Ruthless and royal. Dressed to the nines up to their plug caps.

Flynn suddenly felt dwarfed and puny.

‘Gentlemen, this is Flynn, he’s been working with me for a few months, he’ll be serving you tonight.’ Elios gave a short introduction and left. Flynn gave a short bow, not sure how to address these powerful men.

‘What’s your name, green boy?’ The Gent asked.

‘Flynn.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Going to be seventeen next month.’

You’re not from around these parts, are you? Your accent tells me....Austria Hungary?’

‘No sir, Corona. The Rhinelands, to be exact.’ 

‘Uh huh. How’d you end up in Greece?’

‘War orphan from the Napoleonic wars, pushed around all of Europe, ended up here.’ By now, Flynn knew the story by heart.   

‘My condolences. Ok Flynn, you’re going to undergo something unpleasant. Forgive me, just the nature of these times. I need to be sure of your loyalty.’

Before Flynn could reply, one of the goons was upon him, almost choking him with his weight, pressing down on his spine. Even if Flynn had any wind left him, he couldn’t yell.

‘Answer me, why was the room changed at such short notice?’

‘When the Gent asks, you better fucking answer, figlio di sfagato!’

‘Get off him, let him speak.’ The goon got off at once.

Flynn coughed and gasped for air. When he could breathe normally, he said weakly , ‘Mr. Gent, it was Mr. Elios who suggested it.’ Flynn barely finished his sentence before receiving a punch in the gut, knocking the air out of him.

‘That’s a lie. Elios is not that big a thinker. You seem to be smarter than you let on. Why’d you try to protect us from the Turks?’

‘I didn’t want them to kill you here. That would be underhanded and filthy. I’ve heard....heard that you believe in engaging them head on, I didn’t want them to ambush you. You’re a hero around here, would be a shame if I couldn’t do my bit for your cause.’ Flynn was hit yet again by the goon, this time in his nose. Blood had begin ebbing from his mouth and nose.

‘You’ve said enough. I can guess the rest of the story. Either betray the Turks and face the sabre or betray us and face getting shot in the face. Why choose us over them?’

‘I gambled here.....I’d rather be loyal to someone fighting the slavers for freedom than the slaver themselves.’ Flynn braced himself for another hit, but the hit never came.

Instead he could hear a chuckle from the Sicilian leader, who had gestured his goon to stand down. He approached Flynn and held him by the cheek, saying in thick accent, ’Felino. That’s your name from now on. Felino the crooked nose. Drinks on the house, all night. Keep the drinks up, you’ll be richer than the sultan come morning. Good boy.’

The leader, or don as they were calling him now, lightly tapped his cheek and went back to his place, settling down with the Gent and the other goons. Flynn left the room and almost crumpled on the floor. I could’ve died there, he thought for a second. Nevertheless, he composed himself and put on his charm; Felino the crooked nose had a job to do.

Ha, the duke of Weselton’s such a bastard, always stirring up shit wherever he goes lol. I love the potential his character has.

Our Man Flynn is serving the big boys now! What could happen?

Thanks again to those who continue reading this silly story :P

This story goes more complex as I write it :D

Building from the cliff-hanger last time, I have a major responsibility of bringing this story justice. We shall meet a lot of new people this time, some of them we know from the movies, some we don't. I hope it turns out as satisfying and gripping as I intended.

All frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney, all I own is this head-cannon and the original characters.

With that, let's continue!

Chapter 5- Of parents, their children and the legend of Flynn Rider

Even as the king and queen of Arendelle announced the arrival of princess Elsa, they were more worried about the kidnapping of princess Eva Rapunzel, which was a scandal that was starting to make the crown of Corona look bad. King Reginald deployed a massive force to look for the princess and her abductor across Europe, which was christened 'The Golden Knights'. While The Golden Knights were supported in Corona by the backing of the king, they were seen as invaders in the rest of Europe, as a legitimate threat to the sovereignty of various kingdoms in the continent. Things came to a head as The Golden Knights grew throughout Europe, with some opportunists recognizing the possibility of grabbing power. The kingdoms feared that The Golden Knights would enable the local people to hedge more power, instigate revolution and crumble the hard-earned peace after nearly three decades of war. Such was the state of early 19th century Europe, rapidly industrializing and rife with mistrust and caution even among royal families related by similar blood.

It was left to Iduna and Agnarr, who had already conceived their second child, to come to Corona's rescue; who promptly called a conference between all the European nations in the only non-aligned country on the continent, Switzerland. Nearly every country's monarch came, except for the Tsar of Russia and the Emperors of France and Great Britain, as their respective health had started to fail. They had sent their chief advisers. As for the Ottomans, they refused to attend as a gesture of defiance. With queen Iduna presiding over the meeting, king Agnarr began to speak. "Your most royal majesties, lend me your ears." Said Agnarr, as he addressed the conference "The pope has been kind enough to grant us this neutral ground in order to decide how the business of looking for princess Eva must be conducted in the continent, or beyond. Now, king Reginald saw it fit to summon a huge force to look for his daughter. It is our moral duty to help our fellow monarch in this time of distress." The Arendellian king proceeded to continue his speech when he was rudely interrupted.

"This is such a crock of shit." Spat the duke of Weselton "I personally cannot believe the energy put into searching for a lost girl of a godforsaken kingdom."

"What are you trying to say, honourable duke?" snarled king Reginald, even as Agnarr tried to calm him down.

Ignoring the implied death threat in the question, the duke continued " Every time a problem arises in Europe, it always comes from fucking Corona. Be it Napoleon deposing the former king or queen of Corona, or the king threatening war in the middle east either for restitution in Serbia from my biggest partners there; the Ottomans, or for exotic medicine for his cursed fucking wife, or now, when he sends an invading force into my fucking fief to look for his damn litter. It has been two months already, give up, let us live in some fucking piece already, and conceive again. It's not as if the princess was to be the heir anyway. Moreover, you and your wife obviously know how to-" the duke's rant was cut short as king Reginald lunged towards him, kicked him once in the gut and once under the belt, and then proceeded to throttle the life out of him.

"I'll POUND YOU TO FUCKING PIECES, YOU FUCKING WEASEL!" roared king Reginald, the six-foot three king more than a match for the five footer duke. He would have made good on his threat, had he not been held back by the kings of Arendelle, the Southern Isles and Austria-Hungary. Agnarr finally managed to pull Reginald away and slapped him in the face "What the fuck is wrong with you, Reginald?!" Agnarr screamed to Reginald in the face, and Reginald was ready in sock him in the face, when-

"SILENCE!" thundered queen Iduna and banged the dais with her hands, which stunned everyone into being quiet. "WE WILL NOT REACH AN ACCORD IF WE CONTINUE TRYING TO ANTAGONIZE THE KING OF CORONA WHEN HE FACES THIS TOUGH TIME! MOREOVER, SUCH UNPARLIAMENTARY LANGUAGE AND VIOLENCE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED IN THIS SOLEMN GATHERING!" Iduna finished her tirade, then began again "I shall at once direct king Agnarr and king Reginald towards a period of recess, during which time they shall settle their differences peacefully and reach common ground again. As for the duke of Weselton, his disgusting behaviour and efforts towards instigating discord in this meeting, are grounds enough for me to expel him from the conference with prejudice." Iduna finished as she settled down.

The duke was beside himself with anger "I get kicked out of the meeting for calling a spade a spade?! All right….in front of all the kings of Europe I say this, your kingdom will regret this decision, Iduna."

"Leave of your own volition before you are defenestrated." Iduna said with a voice ice-cold, as the marshals prepared to throw out the troublemaker. Anticipating a painful recovery if he were thrown out from the windows, the duke beat a hasty retreat.

"Swine" muttered king Christian of the Southern Isles under his breath.

The gathering continued more or less smoothly after the duke's departure as Agnarr and Reginald were able to calm down and join the conference again. To remove any troubling feudal implications from the Golden Knights, it was agreed to change it from an armed force to a humanitarian one; a landmark decision as no prior organization like that had ever existed. While its primary objection was to still locate the lost princess and hopefully bring her kidnapper to justice, the Golden Knights now became a proto salvation army, setting makeshift camps, soup kitchens and clinics in princess Eva's name all over Europe. Resistance was still met; but it never broke out into open revolt.

Some questioned where queen Sophia was in all this. European society expected her to be the distraught and helpless parent praying for her child's safety, rescue and return. However, queen Sophia was not most people. She had been down this road before, wallowing in her misery and praying for fortune to reverse its unkind ways. But now she knew better. As Iduna and Agnarr went to support her dear Reggie, she stayed back in order to care for baby princess Elsa. It was she who nursed the curiously cold child. When she discovered her secret as Elsa's emotions became more prominent, she embraced her presence even further. The baby ice princess was unusually intelligent for her age, always understanding when Sophia was sad, or happy, and acted accordingly, making snowflakes and loud gurgling noises, which melted the queen's heart. As for the public, queen Sophia turned her attention to public welfare, instituting public laws that protected the wages of the emerging working class in the cities, and creating a vast chain of clinics, hospitals, and orphanages and institutions, all this in princess Eva's name. Soon, it led to Corona having the most public-centred and public-friendly policies in Europe, which brought both the king and queen respect from across the continent. When asked why this sudden change, she simply answered,

"When a mother loses a child, all that love has to go somewhere. And what are the citizens of this great kingdom if not my metaphorical kids." It was a masterstroke of an answer that endeared her to the public, along with adding princess Eva's name in all her ventures. Princess Eva soon acquired a mythical status, a figure who was sacrificed to bring prosperity to the people of Corona.

As good natured and effective Sophia's take care demeanour was, it couldn't keep away the outside world from drastic change. In this din and pandemonium of all these things, the thirteenth child of king Christian was born without incident. It was a young boy, who took after his polish mother in terms of hair and eyes and took after the king in his nose and general face. His mother planned to name the prince Janus, after the great Polish king Jan Sobieski, who had led the charge of the winged hussars, ousting the Ottomans out of Vienna and protecting Europe from Ottoman dominance and suppression back in 1683. However, the king of the Southern Isles didn't care much for the name, believing it was too effeminate and silly for a prince, and had him christened to the more publicly acceptable Hans. His mother seethed at this utter disregard for her culture and identity to such an extent that, even as the baby prince was only beginning to recognize those around him, she decided to make sure prince Hans was raised Polish first. The fact that the Russian Empire, Corona and Austria-Hungary took every opportunity to carve out new territory from her ancestral home of Poland didn't help soothe her rage.

As for Sophia's policies, while they did a lot to bring the ever-increasing middle class out of poverty, it brought new problems along with them. Consider the Rhineland, the new industrial heartland of Corona. Even as the kingdom was modernizing, the climate of Northern Europe had started to change. As a result, the rains in the kingdom had started to dwindle, leaving agriculture not a very viable option for the populace. The cities of the Rhineland had started to burst at the seams with new arrivals from the countryside as a result, and the cities had become saturated with people from all walks and varieties of life as a result, from artisans, scholars and philosophers to the bargemen, dockworkers, other various blue collar jobs and veterans from the Napoleonic wars. There were a lot of orphans from the Napoleonic wars in Rhineland, and the cities had various orphanages built to accommodate them. However, while it was comparatively easy to build new spaces for those orphans to live in, trying to raise them into model members of society was a different beast all together. Soon, there were scores of kids doing odd jobs like selling trinkets, sweets or little items like candles and matchsticks on the street, sometimes sneaking into factories and demanding work from the factory owners, who readily gave them work, quietly ignoring the child labour laws the Monarchy of Corona had set up. Some found their real home on the street, joining a gang to get a piece of the action.

Two such children with these stories were Eugene and Mabel, a couple of nine-year olds who had become friends in one such orphanage. However, the two couldn't be further different from each other. Mabel believed in the good in people and honesty, raising money on her own in order to afford to go to those new-fangled schools being set up in the country. To raise said money, she often sold odd titbits on the road to pedestrians and passers-by. Eugene didn't believe in such lofty ideals, choosing instead to believe in standing up for himself and being on the never-ending hustle. Eugene was part of a gang of 10-year-old robbers led by a brutish eleven-year-old boy named Markus, and they regularly held up carriages and coaches inside and outside the city. Eugene got into the gang through his presence of mind and wit, and his ability to look innocent. It was Eugene who came up with the shivering dodge, the lucifer dodge and the scaldrum dodge. The shivering dodge was bit of play-acting, making oneself shiver by bathing in cold water, when one could get their hands on it, or wearing their thinnest clothes to make sure they shiver. Then one would go around the streets of the city, pleading for money for a warm coat or a hot beverage. As for the lucifer dodge, one carried some trinkets, and pretended to be pushed when a rich toff passed by, throwing one's merchandise on the ground. Looking at their ruined shop, they would pretend to bawl their hearts out and people would throw some coins in sympathy. Lastly, the scaldrum dodge, which Eugene found disgusting, but fell back onto in desperate times. It involved bruising oneself, by rubbing vinegar open soapy arms making them look like nasty blisters. It was uncomfortable and dirty, but at least one could get to spend a few days in the hospitals that were set up recently. Moreover, one could lay low in the hospital to stay away from watchful eyes of the law, which was beginning to crack down on gangs like theirs.

It was a clear contrast to what Markus preferred to do; garrotting. A typical garrotter used to hide in the horse-drawn carriages that carried people around. During the ride, the garrotter choked the passenger by his knuckles, being careful not to crush the windpipe and kill the unfortunate sod but enough to render them unconscious, then robbing the unconscious passenger and paying the carriage driver who was in on it. Another favourite money-maker of his was to nick purses at a public execution, to disappear into a crowd of spectators and ending up with enough wallets and cash for weeks. Last but not the least, there was always the smuggling of tea, China and other such valuables along the shipping routes of the Rhine river into all of Europe, and into Arendelle's canals and the dark sea up north as well. Markus' ways were rewarding but dangerous, as it was clearly a crime punishable by death.

Eugene's scams were far safer and as a result ,they were decent money makers, and soon a lot of kids were doing it for some pocket cash, but they had to pay tribute to Markus and Eugene, who were the clear two leaders of the gang. It was a strange camaraderie between the two of them. For to the world, Eugene went by his own name, but for Markus, he was Flynn.

"The fuck kind of name is Eugene anyway, huh? What are ya, bent?" Markus cackled once during such a talk. "The fuck does that mean, asshole?" Eugene grinned.

"It's not just the name, the whole damn act that you put, you know." Markus said.

"Brings in the dosh now, don't it? And without the noose threatening me neck" Eugene replied.

"True, but that's the street life I chose." said Markus. He loved the streets and saw no future for himself beyond that.

"You make me sad, you bastard. I see myself living in a big house, with the love of me life beside me, and an army of servants to lord over."

"Like the mansion at the outside the city huh? With your little trick?"

"Sure. However, she ain't no trick. Her name is Mabel."

"I know who she is, and I also know she don't like me."

"Well , you ain't no choir boy, punk."

"Yes and thank fuck for that."

"Ha! You twat!" Eugene laughed.

"Right back at ya, fuckin' romantic actor!" Markus laughed back.

Markus may have been an oaf, but he was right about how Mabel felt about him "That guy's a bad influence."

"A 'bad influence'? The fuck does that mean, Mabel?"

"It means he's rubbin' off you the wrong way, Eugene. In addition, if you want to cuss like a sailor, go to the barge and earn your keep."

"Bad influence, in addition, money well spent on books, eh?"

"It's our job innit? To become better and rise up?"

"Aye, that's what I'm doing, Mabel."

"Yeah, for the big house, huh?"

It was well-known throughout the orphanage how Eugene claimed that he would own that mansion one day. He used to get starry eyes when he started talking about it. If there was a child in Eugene, he came up in times like this.

"Hmm" rued Eugene.

"Speaking of that mansion, I got a job there, as a seller from the mansion." Said Mabel with a smile.

"Fuckin' result, that's damn neat!" shouted Eugene excitedly as he hugged Mabel.

"Eugene!"

"Sorry, got excited in the moment."

"That's all right, I think it's swell too. But if I want to study, I got to earn quick and stop working." finished Mabel.

"Don't worry about dosh, I always have some."

"Sure, but no more scams alright? They're cracking down on stuff like that."

"I swear I'll be sharp, Mabel."

"As for Markus, look I don't think he's that bad, but he's certainly an idiot. You gotta take care of him, make sure he doesn't land in any scuffles."

"Okay. I'll do it."

"Promise?"

"Sure"

"Look at you, taking charge." Mabel grinned.

"Look at you, moving up and caring for Markus." Eugene laughed.

"Hey Mabel, call me Flynn from now on."

"No" giggled Mabel as she gave him a small peck on his cheek.

This happy mood was not to last, as it became clearer to Eugene that Mabel was becoming miserable a few months later, towards the end of the year. It was a mansion in all but name as her employer was a hard-hearted taskmaster, resorting to abuse if his targets were not met, and poor Mabel suffered the worst of it, both physical and emotional. As for Markus, his life had become tougher as the law was coming down on his operation, and it was becoming tougher to buy off the bargemen, the carriage drivers and the law as a result.

"Those sons of bitches, they dare PISS IN MY HAT?!" screamed Markus on one such day.

"Zip it Mark" Eugene tried to calm him down.

"If those bargemen don't straighten up, I'll set their fuckin' ships ablaze, you hear me, Flynn?" Markus growled.

"You realize that they can wring your neck in one go, right? Don't be stupid. Talk to them, reach an accord and put this shit to bed." Eugene spoke.

"Reach an accord? Another expression from Mabel, eh Flynn?" Markus snapped

"Don't joke about her right now, she's in terrible shape. I gotta help her too somehow."

"Then go with her, don't worry about me, I'll talk to them." Markus said

"Yeah, burning their fuckin' ships?!" Eugene exclaimed incredulously

"Hey, I was just hurtin' and blowin' off some steam there, alright Flynn? Even I know better than to engage those seven-foot giants in a mosh pit." Markus replied.

"Alright, fine. I'll go with Mabel. Just don't blow your head open, Mark." said Eugene as he went on his way to Mabel.

What he saw Mabel, it wasn't a pretty sight.

There she was, in torn rags, bruised all over, beaten half to death and possibly molested, or worse.

"Eugene!" she cried as she collapsed into his chest, his vest quickly becoming wet from her tears and her blood as she sobbed.

"Who did this?" Eugene growled, even if he had half guessed who it was.

"They abused me and….threw me out in the middle of winter to fend for myself." Mabel wept, as she caught her breath.

"The people at the mansion?"

"Yes"

"I had to do something I never thought I would do, even in the direst of situations." Mabel cried.

"What?" Eugene asked, dreading how she might answer.

"I stole a week's supplies, planning to escape from that torturous place. I thought I could get out of the city, after selling what I could, then go as far away as possible from there. But I was caught. Those bastards, they beat the life out of me, and stripped me naked and-." Mabel couldn't finish her sentence as she crumbled into sobs again.

Eugene tried holding on to her, tears ebbing out of his eyes, but Mabel pushed him away, clearly hiding something she either couldn't tell Eugene out of shame, or at a loss to explain what had been done to her. Eugene considered going to the law, but decided against it, as it wouldn't change anything. He was jolted out of his thoughts when Mabel began again,

"Eugene, you've always been good to me, thank you so much for that. But I'm afraid I must get out of this city, and never come back."

"Wait, don't go! I'll make sure they pay, I promise." Eugene pleaded.

"I can't stay here after what happened, I must leave." Mabel pleaded back.

"Eugene choked back a lump that threatened to become a bawl when he said "Alright, but at least take some cash." He gave her his day's cut of his operation, two Corona Marks, which would have been enough to sustain someone for a month.

Mabel embraced him in gratitude before scurrying out of sight. Eugene sighed "Maybe, someday, she'll come back."

Alas, but there was no joyful end to Mabel's plight, as a rival gang member, jealous of Eugene, followed Mabel and beat her up again, and robbed her at knifepoint. He didn't even spare her shawl, which she used for covering herself, leaving her further bruised, in tatters and only a few matchboxes to keep her company as it started snowing on Christmas eve.

Eugene was ignorant of this misfortune as he scurried back to Markus, who'd been done for.

It had started well for Markus, as he had managed to find common ground with the carriage drivers and most of the law enforcers, but he made the mistake of going alone without muscle to back him up. The bargemen took the opportunity to anger Markus, who lunged at them with his razor. But it was over in an instant for poor Markus, as the bargemen broke his neck with one smack of their hand, and law enforcers shot him in the head for good measure. There Markus lay dead, his face blackened and bloody onto the snowy streets.

Eugene stepped back from the corpse in horror at the realization; he'll have to turn rat to save himself.

And so he did, in the snowy, dark night of Christmas eve 1820.

He went straight to the magistrate's office, cut a deal with law enforcement to let him go, after ratting out everyone from the three rival gangs to the corrupt law enforcers and bargemen. It was mayhem in the city that night, as the rival gangs were dealt with extreme prejudice, and the other bargemen, law enforcers and carriage drivers were arrested and dealt with savagely. Even the smuggling cargo ships were set ablaze or sunk.

It was an emotionally drained and tired Eugene who started to arrange for his departure from the city on Christmas morning when he glanced at something, or someone that would stand as a sheet of flame in his memory forever.

There lay Mabel, cooped up in a street corner, under nearly half a foot of snow, frozen to death.

Evidently, the poor girl had burned up the few matchsticks that she had left to keep warm. She had also tried in vain to knock on the doors and beg to be taken in for the night. Tragically, the Christmas spirit of giving didn't apply to a supposed bottom-feeding orphan like her.

But now, a crowd had started to gather around the frozen corpse, the people now showing sympathy to the lost soul according to their convenience. Eugene moved away from the scene in disgust. He hated it, he hated them all, he hated this fucking city. Fuck them, fuck them all.

As he moved towards the outskirts of the city, his aggrieved rage renewed when he saw the big house again. It all started here, for him, for Mabel, for all of them.

Once, staying in that house was all that he ever wanted.

Now, the mere sight of that monstrosity made him retch.

He sneaked into the house's kitchen, lit some coals alight, and let them loose onto the flammable powdered flour. As for good measure, he barred all the escape routes once he came out, cut loose one of the tethered horses, and rode off into the dawn as the house started burning in earnest, and the screams of people being charred to death could be heard in the distance.

It was pandemonium with all this chaos in the city, with rumours of a certain Flynn Rider exposing the criminal gangs, the corrupt officials and the bargemen. It was further rumoured that it was the same Flynn Rider burnt down the house that rumoured tortured little children for amusement and made them work almost to death, directly in violation to the Monarch's laws.

And thus, on Christmas day 1820, the legend of Flynn Rider came to be.

Whoa, this was a painful chapter to write.

As I can see, this is shaping up to be a neat Tangled-Frozen crossover, I promise I'll get to everyone in time.

Hang in there, people!

Me after reading the latest chapter (3) of

The Queen's Thief:

I hope you're all doing well! I have to say, I'm enjoying writing this far more than I thought I would.

For those who were confused as to who the giants of Europe were in the previous chapter, they were namely Great Britain, Austria-Hungary, the Russian Empire, and the Ottomans, to an extent. I forgot to add that detail in the previous chapter, sorry 😉.

All frozen characters belong to Disney, all I own is this head-cannon and the original characters.

Let's continue :D

Chapter 3: A Collapse, some friendships, a wedding, and possible parenthood

Agnarr sometimes had a habit of zoning out and biting his lower lip while listening to Iduna sing, a quirky quality Iduna found adorable, and always ribbed Agnarr about it in good humour. Agnarr on his part, always found it fascinating and endearing how Iduna was always drawn to nature, and how a nice cup of brewed hot chocolate always lifted her spirits. He also felt a sense of pride when he saw how quickly she learnt the ways of the European royalty despite being a mere commoner. Sure, the beginning was a little rocky with Iduna making small mistakes in conducting herself, but what she may have slightly lacked in conduct and tradition, she made up for it in emotional intelligence and choosing her words carefully, and most importantly her good humour and candour. Ah, the things lovebirds discover and like about each other when they court. While the people were wary of her northern ancestry at first, they soon warmed up to her due to her kindness and sincerity of her desires to want the best for them.

But, while these two were building their own corner of paradise, big changes were happening in Europe. The Emperor of France was finally cornered in a defeat two years after that damned invasion of the Russian Empire. Napoleon was finally ousted from power and exiled to the island of Elba. Fair enough, Europe agreed, for the troublemaker to be kept away from the mainland, like the naughty kid punished to stand outside and think about what they have done. France came to Arendelle for help again, however by now Arendelle was done with them, having reached an understanding with the Russians and the crown of Corona, and the Southern Isles and Weselton only too happy to fill up the vacuum left by the French.

Still, the king was wary of the Southern Isles and Weselton, what with the Southern Isles royal family being notorious for their bonds of blood thinner than air, their tendency to breed like rabbits, and their famed history of going at each other's throats. As long as Arendelle didn't get injured in the crossfire, the King didn't really care, but he could have done without the acrimony, as the present king of The Southern Isles was a little eccentric, but he was fun to hang around with. As far as Weselton was concerned, it was a royalty of crooks and gangsters to king Agnarr. They had little class, lesser respect, and both the duke and his successor never found an opportunity to turn any event into a money-making machine, as they worshipped their riches, and no people, land or race was sacred enough to not sacrifice for them to achieve their ends. The Russians Tsars on their part were never very popular among their own people, and they were regular subject to assassination attempts and revolts, so the Russian empire too couldn't be the definitive reliable ally. Moreover, Alexander was closer in age to his father, so while their interaction was always warm and cordial, king Agnarr always felt distant from the Tsar. The one true ally and possible friend to Agnarr was King Reginald of Corona and his queen to be, lady Sophia of Southern Austria, who bonded with Iduna over their mutual good fortunes and friendship. When the friendship between the kings was on rocky terrain back in 1812, it was the two ladies who made the peace;

"I have all the respect in the world for Agnarr, and the way he has tried to manoeuvre his kingdom through this crisis, but I can't see my husband to be turning the other on this one, Iduna. Reginald feels betrayed, and he's not too keen on being forgiving yet."

"I understand and that position Sophia, but Agnarr didn't have the luxury of making a good decision from that mess. He tried to please everyone, as was expected of him, and everyone has taken advantage of it. He has bent over backwards trying to make amends for his father's harsh stance and the former French emperor's megalomania, for which he was gotten nothing but ridicule and contempt. He and I are desperately trying to find someone in this moment of chaos and trying to escape the witch hunt."

"It's not just a witch hunt, it's also restitution. The European monarchy has had an axe to grind with king Runeard, now they feel cheated and angered by how he's ignoring them to fight his own countrymen. I can't say I blame them, what with how the 18th century ended and the 19th began." Said Sophia, with the horrors of the Napoleonic wars fresh in her mind.

"They may have their reasons, that doesn't mean we don't have our own. Agnarr also has his own father to contend with. Do you really believe he wanted all this to happen? His father was backed into a corner by his French friend, he couldn't refuse him after what happened in Spain. Agnarr tried to minimize the ensuing forest fire, but his efforts were not appreciated." Iduna defended her beau.

"Don't get me wrong, we fully appreciate his endeavour in that direction, however it was an admission of weakness on his part, and as we have both come to know, weakness is not received well in our circles." Sophia said empathetically.

"This is all moot, as Agnarr is not being given a chance to correct his father's errors, and he wants what's best not only for Arendelle, but also for the stability of Europe. He is making sincere attempts at reconciling with his friends, spending far more effort at retaining those who are close to him than acquainting and dealing with strangers." Iduna put her foot down.

"The strangers being Corona's immediate northern and western neighbours, correct?" Sophia inquired with a faint smile on her lips.

"Yes, and he would appreciate and hold the true friendship strong through thick and thin." Iduna replied, making her point here.

"I have a couple of observations to make." Sophia started after a few minutes of ruminating on the subject. "Go ahead Sophia" Iduna pressed on.

"Agnarr is lucky to have you, and you have learnt well a trade completely alien to you." Sophia grinned. Iduna blushed despite getting used to the praise and replied with a smile, "Thank you, Sophia. I have a very good and supporting companion whom I'm fortunate to have in return. I also have come a long way from tripping over the coattails of the king of Bavaria, and almost setting him on fire. I have on good authority that he still doesn't like me." Iduna added with a smirk. Sophia laughed heartily at that for some time, remembering the pandemonium that had happened at the Bavarian king's wedding anniversary four months ago; in the May of 1812.

She calmed down at length, and assured her, "Alright, you've made your point Iduna, leave Reginald to me. I'll convince him. Soon, this problem wouldn't be a problem anymore." Iduna beamed at that "Thank you so much, Sophia. You don't know how much this means to both Agnarr and me." Iduna said with genuine gratitude and relief in her voice.

"You are most welcome, Iduna." Sophia beamed with satisfaction. "So, when are we all getting the much-awaited wedding invitations for the romantic, noble and adroit couple?" Sophia teased.

"Well, we are romantic, arguably noble and rumoured to be adroit, but we are still fourteen or fifteen at best. You tell me Sophia, when shall Europe see Corona and Austria-Hungary join hands in matrimony?" Iduna asked cheekily in return.

"Ah well, I'm ready now, but we both know there are other things at hand first." Sophia sighed.

"True, but at least we can put this particular business behind us" Iduna assured.

"Yes, and just in time for both of us to leave" Noted Sophia.

The two friends embraced and wished each other safe travels.

Iduna remembered the conversation that had brought the two nations together two years ago, quite fondly, and had grown very close to Sophia in the meantime. As King Agnarr and King Reginald forged the new order of Europe post Napoleon, European society keenly baptized them as ' The northern brothers '. As for the queens-in waiting, they maintained a healthy correspondence, discussing all joys and tensions, and forged a nigh sisterly bond. It wasn't surprising to for Iduna to be the first person to know about the wedding date and being Sophia's maid of honour, and it was inevitable for king Agnarr to be king Reginald's best man.

It was a happy and lavish affair in October 1814, with royalty coming from as far as the Ottoman Empire, Macedonia and Egypt. Sure, now Corona had ideological differences with the Ottomans, but that didn't stop the Sultan from helping himself to the finest offerings of king Reginald's palace kitchens. The then-king of Great Britain sent his regrets, but that could be forgiven as the poor monarch was already half-mad and blind with age. As for the ever-dignified Tsar, he blessed the union with prosperity and a long lineage. He may have been a party mad youth in his time, as were all the Romanovs, but his Tsarina had tethered him to a dignity that he quietly enjoyed. The king of The Southern Isles was particularly interested in the lineage and advised king Reginald to secure the succession as soon as possible.

"The Tsar's blessing is good and all, but I'd wish king Christian the eighth of The Southern Isles had more time to educate me on the subject." Reginald said glibly to Agnarr after making sure the father of nine children was out of earshot.

"I don't know about the king, but Sophia would definitely fucking kill you when she hears that." Laughed Agnarr.

"Hey, Iduna taught you to have a brutal sense of humour! That lady is magnificent" ribbed the king of Corona.

"I agree wholeheartedly. Do you think king Christian will reach double-digits with his kids?"

"He's definitely getting close, even if he's up there in age. I'll wager at least eleven before he's done." teased Reginald, before his queen quietly twisted his ears.

"You two clearly have way too much fucking time on your hands" scolded the inebriated queen; well, it was her night too. "I'm sorry, dear. It slipped out; I didn't mean anything by it." wailed the king. "Yeah, we'll see about that." challenged his Austria-Hungarian better half.

This silly exchange lightened up the ballroom, with The Southern Isles King and the Duke of Weselton cackling in the distance and even the stoic Tsar grinning good-naturedly.

"Hear hear, the true power of Corona!" Proclaimed Iduna, appearing as if out of nowhere with her signature mug of hot chocolate.

"Hey darling, you got your way after all" said Agnarr, graciously admitting defeat to an earlier bet he made with his belle.

"Damn right." Iduna replied, holding her hot chocolate mug high up. Then she spoke "I'm so happy for them, the whole thing was textbook." "Yeah me too, they are a fine couple, we are good at this, we should do this more often." Agnarr said.

Then Agnarr turned wistful and grim and said, "I wish the French leader came, they have been our longest supporting allies, even if our relations have soured in the last few years."

"The surviving bourbon king is old and obese; we can't expect him to travel such a distance without incident." Mused Iduna.

"Still, he could have sent a representative, would have meant everything. I know from experience that this can't end well." Agnarr said quietly "Now why didn't he send any message?"

As if to answer his question, a messenger entered the ball room and made a beeline for the centre "Pardon me for this ugly interruption but listen all. Napoleon Bonaparte has escaped the island of Elba, has garnered support back in France and has usurped the bourbon monarchy again. King Louis the eighteenth is on the run, requesting asylum in Corona."

The European royalty may have had various grim reactions to this worrying news, but the Tsar summed it up best "That fucking devil."

It was a tough few months for the northern brothers ahead, along with the rest of Europe. Napoleon, the crazy genius that he was, had managed to find the backing of the crown of Spain, the Italian peninsula whom he had promised freedom from Austria-Hungary upon his conquest, and some nominal support from the Ottomans, who were only too happy to stick it to their problem neighbour up north.

But Napoleon's star was on the fall, suffering terrible losses despite some early victories. Despite that, it took the combined forces of the Russians, the British, Corona, Austria-Hungary, The Southern Isles and Weselton to destroy his presence forever in the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. The kingdom of Arendelle chose to maintain the supply lines for its allies instead of sending actual soldiers. Upon Napoleon's defeat and escape from the battle, the Tsar called for his head once and for all, but the duke of Wellington and Iduna intervened to exile him to St Helena's instead. They reasoned to avoid making that statement by rationalizing that France would be better left intact than scrambled by Napoleon's Execution.

Three weeks after the European powers decided Napoleon's fate, king Agnarr married now queen Iduna in a simple private ceremony, worlds apart from the celebration at Corona months ago. Of course, the close friends and allies were invited, and even though they had the odd Duke of Weselton grumbling about the lack of pretence and grandeur, king Reginald and queen Sophia lifted all spirits by announcing that they were with child.

"You magnificent bastard, you did it!" shouted the king of Arendelle as he gave the king of Corona a bear hug. "Right back at you, you scoundrel." bellowed Reginald.

"Well done both of you, but remember, this is but a beginning." The Tsar grinned.

"Oh your majesty, you're making us nervous" King Reginald replied in good humour.

"Thank you for taking my advice to heart, king Reginald" said king Christian, clearly pleased with himself.

"I suppose it makes the paltry Arendelle wedding ceremony worth it" grumbled the duke of Weselton.

"You make me sad, duke. I think you might either be clinically insane, or drunk on an empty stomach. Seeing the empty glass in your hand, I guess the latter." teased Christian, to which the duke merely grunted.

"Come with me, I'll introduce you to a poison far better than money" winked the king of The Southern Isles.

Agnarr merely laughed as Reginald relaxed his fisted hands after the duke left with the king, and within the span of a few minutes, was dancing his best impression of a chicken.

"He's clearly forgotten all his troubles"

"Good for him."

"Ah lighten up Reggie, I doubt you'll remember in the morning either."

"Hmm, I guess."

Agnarr grew serious and put his left arm over Reginald's shoulder, who returned the gesture.

"All the best for your parenthood."

"All good fortune for your married life as well, brother."

Agnarr gave a big smile before calling out: "Iduna, sweetheart, come here and bring Sophia with you as well."

"Here I am" Iduna warbled, clearly enjoying the first time she had ever been drunk, hanging onto Sophia's shoulder, who merely found it adorable. By this time, king Christian had also managed to calm the duke down after thoroughly enjoying the duke's dancing and 'mating calls' himself.

"Let's make a toast" Agnarr raised his glass as he collected Iduna in his right arm.

"To the lost" Agnarr said at length.

"To the lost" echoed the queen and everyone else.

"Skall to that" king Christian being himself, followed the duke shrieking "Caw Caw!"

Overcome with emotion and love, king Agnarr kissed his bride Iduna, who was so emotional at that point that she let out a long kulning for the occasion and buried her face into Agnarr's chest. She said with her voice cracking from tears, "If only my family could see me like this." King Agnarr whispered back kindly, "I know, I miss my parents too." The king held his bride close till she was well again, her eyes shinning with tears of joy. Reginald and Sophia watched the pair fondly coming closer themselves.

"I love you, Agnarr." "I love you too, Iduna"

"Not fair" Sophia remarked, trying to lighten up the mood, "she gets drunk then sings like an angel and tells people that she loves them, I get drunk and get into a quarrel with Reggie."

"We all have our charms, love." grinned Reginald.

Hmmm, this is getting somewhere, well thank you for sticking with this story!

Next time, we will see the sisters we have been waiting for :D