Meanwhile, a small coup had taken place on one of Arendelle's ships. But this ship was important, not because of any unique traits, but because it had contained Prince Hans of the Southern Isles.

Hans stretched his legs as he triumphantly strolled across the deck of the ship. It was now his. His loyal followers freed him from the prison he had been locked in, and now, there was nothing that would stop him from getting revenge on Arendelle. He smiled and looked out and over his men.

"Good work, men. Because of your loyalty to me, we are now bound together on a quest for redemption." He stuck a finger towards Arendelle's direction. "They believe they have seen the last of us. But they haven't. We will strike again, with full force, and show everyone just how powerful the Southern Isles really are." After the brief speech, his men were wildly cheering, itching for the chance to bathe their blades once again in the blood of Arendelle. "Now, we must prepare. We shall raid any small trade ships that are going to Arendelle and take what they would give to our enemy. Get ready. We strike tonight." The men cheered and busied themselves for the eventful night that was to come.

While he oversaw the men, someone separated from the rest of the group. He was a built man, around six foot, and he wore a scar on his left eye which closed it forever. "Your Majesty, we have a problem. The yacht escaped. Only the man survived."

Hans was a little worried. He didn't show it, but there was a small pang in his stomach that his quest for vengeance would be for nothing. But only if the man remembered. "Well, did you injure him at all, Martin?" Martin nodded, and Hans relaxed. "Knowing you, it was probably fatal. Dead men tell no tales." Hans and Martin laughed at the very thought. His plan would be a surefire success. He could feel it. And even if the man did survive, there was no guarantee he would remember it.

Jordan regained consciousness and examined his surroundings. He was in a dark cell, with water dripping from the back left corner. A small wobbly table with bread and cheese on it stood awkwardly next to the bars. One of the guards stood there, watching him like a hawk.

Jordan stood and stretched, or tried to. His hands were bound together. He ambled over to the table and struggled to reach the food, but eventually dropped his hips and squatted so his hands could grab the bread. He wolfed it down, and he did the same with the cheese. He hadn't eaten anything since, well, he couldn't remember. The guard raised an eyebrow at the sight, but said nothing. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Jordan could make out the faint outline of the bed he had woken up in, and the door to freedom was dimly lit by a torch.

As if he could read his mind, the guard said, "Don't even try to escape. You won't make it." Jordan simply nodded and sat down on the roughspun bed. He figured he might as well go to sleep, or have a staring contest with the guard. Jordan turned over so he could face the wall and closed his eyes. Yet he couldn't sleep. Jordan was busy contemplating what the reason was that he was in here at all. Nothing came to mind except a stormy dock. But that could mean a number of things.

Hours passed. Jordan lay there, staring at the wall, fruitless in his search for answers. Just then, he could hear clanking footsteps approach and stop. Whispered voices, then the clanking retreated. Jordan frowned. What happened? Would someone give him the answers he himself had failed to find? Jordan turned over to face the guard. He was putting a key in his cell door's lock. "Her Majesty is ready for your company," he said as the door unlocked and was swung open. Jordan stood uncertainly and stretched. His vision blackened for a short while, and he stumbled a little, but the guard helped support him until Jordan felt better. Then, they exited the dungeon. Hopefully, Jordan would never have to be in one of those cells again.

Elsa sighed as she sat on her throne.

She had to interrogate the man who attacked him, and interrogations were never fun. as she waited, she felt a small degree of sadness, not for herself, but for him. He must have had a legitimate reason for his behavior. But what legitimate reason was there to excuse oneself from royal homicide?

She sat up slightly as the prisoner was escorted in by her guards. He was in a sorry state. His fine clothes were replaced with an itchy cotten tunic, and rags replaced shoes. There was a deep black circles under his left eye, and he was bruised along the arms. Still, he held his head high, unfazed by the lack of body coverage and obvious abuse he had recieved. With a small cough, Elsa began the interrogation. "What is your name?"

The prisoner looked her in the eyes. "I am Jordan Dawson," he replied simply.

"Where are you from?"

"The Kingdom of Borlon."

Elsa was amazed. Not at the knowledge of an attempted assassination on her life -carried out by a forgeiner- but rather at the fact that he never called her "Your Majesty" or "Your Highness". The guard on Jordan's left must have noticed the same thing, for he cuffed Jordan behind the head. "You will address the Queen as 'My Queen', 'Your Highness', or 'Your Majesty'. Understood?"

Elsa was about to intervene, but Jordan spoke first. "She is not my queen, as I do not reside here. She doesn't look very tall, but she is a little majestic. Just a little."

The guard cuffed Jordan again. "Address your Queen with respect!" he barked.

Jordan smiled innocently. "She is not my Queen."

Elsa finally spoke. "Arthur, enough." The guard, hand poised to strike Jordan once more, nodded and stepped back a few feet. She looked at Jordan. "This is my kingdom, and you are in it right now. You must abide by my laws. Understand?"

Jordan smiled and shrugged. "I guess so." Elsa wondered if he was about to add her title, as was proper, but he didn't. Why would he? He had taken a position against calling her "Your Majesty", "Your Highness", and "My Queen". Why would he stop now when he was winning?

She shook her head, sighed, and continued the interrogation. "Why did you attack me?"

Jordan frowned. "I never attacked you. What are you talking about?"

Arthur had his hand raised to hit Jordan, but Elsa slightly shook her head no. "Yesterday, on the dock, you tried to kill me. Why?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe I wanted this whole place all to myself. Maybe I thought you were too pale. Maybe I thought I was bored and wanted to spice things up a little. Which, by the way, is not true. What could I possibly gain from a country that only exports ice?"

Elsa frowned. He did have a point, but there was something strange about his statement. "What do you mean, 'gain from'?" she inquired.

Jordan scoffed. "What else? I'm a prince."

So that was why he refused to call her by her titles. "However, as the ruling monarch of this kingdom, I am your superior, and-"

He raised his binded hands for silence. "Your Majesty," he emphasized dramatically, makng Arthur stiffen, "are we here to discuss your respect or is there something more important?"

Arthur growled. "Nothing is more important than the Queen's-"

"Did I ask you?" This simple question sealed Arthur's mouth. Elsa was a little grateful for that. Jordan looked at her again with a defiant smile.

Elsa nodded. "You attacked me, and you tried to kill me. Why?"

Jordan sighed, the smile vanishing. Elsa leaned forward, wanting to know what the rebellious prince would say to defend himself. He looked up at her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Elsa sighed, closed her eyes, and opened them again. "Yesterday afternoon, you stumbled about like a drunkard, and had a serious head wound." His fingers went up to the bandage. "You were escorted to our finest apothecary, and you were treated. The healer said that you might have had amnesia. I went to find you, and I did, on a yacht that was crudely placed next to the dock. Then, you attacked me." Jordan looked down. "So, answer my question. Why did you do it?"

Jordan contemplated this, leaving the room in a complete silence. The room started to feel a little colder. He looked up at her. "You tell me. Why would I want to attack you?"

Elsa sighed. "I'm not going to play this game. Arthur, take him back to his cell."

The guard happily obliged. Jordan turned, and as he was escorted away, he said loudly, "Fine. But how am I to answer your question if mine isn't answered first?"

"Arthur, bring him back." Elsa was intrigued now. The guard pushed the prisoner back to where he had stood previously before. "Why must I answer your question first?"

In total seriousness, he answered, "I want your opinions and thoughts. What you think the answers are. Makes it easy to eliminate the stupid ones and defend myself. You get what you want, I get what I want, Arthur gets paid money, so he gets what he wants-" Elsa wanted to laugh at his small joke, but restrained herself. Jordan looked at her. "Well? Why would I attack you?"

Now it was Elsa's turn to be contemplative. She sat there, on her throne, and he stood there, waiting for her response. "More power? Revenge? Someone asked you?"

Jordan laughed. "Really? You think I'm a power-hungry and vengeful assassin?" In Elsa's mind, that wasn't too far off. "Nope, nope, and nope. Sorry."

Elsa groaned and looked at him. "Well, what is the answer to my question?"

Jordan shrugged. "I don't know. I remember looking around for something, and then I found it, then nothing until I woke up in the cell."

Elsa sighed and rubbed her eyes. He had amnesia. "You can't remember anything?" Jordan shook his head. "All right." Now, what was she going to do? "Can you remember anything from before you were looking around? Before the yacht?"

Jordan frowned, then nodded excitedly. He seemed like he really wanted to help her. "Yeah, yeah! Uh, uh... A ship! A big ship. Bigger than the yacht."

Elsa leaned in. Now they were making progress.

"The ship, it, oh." His excitement vanished in that instant. "It attacked us. They killed Allison and tried to kill me."

Elsa was horrified. She was not going to endanger the lives of her people when murderers and pirates were out there. She was going to identify the ship's home country, then demand the ambassador from wherever that place would be to come to Arendelle. "What did the sails look like? Can you remember?"

Jordan nodded. "Uh, blue with a, uh...green cross." He lifted his binded hands in a pointing gesture. Elsa and Arthur followed, and both were apalled.

It was the flag of Arendelle.

"Impossible," Elsa declared, her eyes still on the flag. "I would have known about it. Are you sure you didn't mistake the flags for some other country?

Jordan shook his head. "I know all of the flags in the surrounding areas. Hell, I know everything about the surrounding areas. There is no mistake. That was the design on the sail."

Elsa sighed. Jordan waited. Arthur still looked at the flag. "But how?" the guard inquired. "How and why would Arendelle attack you?"

"I don't know. Ask the captain of that ship." Jordan looked up at the ornate ceiling and admired the patterns. He had told them the truth. What would happen now? He hoped he'd be able to bury Allison soon, at least before he was thrown in prison.

Elsa looked at him, and he returned the gaze. "Well, what can I do? On one hand, you attacked and tried to kill me, yet on the other, it appears we attacked you." She thought for a moment, then stated her verdict. "You are free to do as you please in Arendelle. However, you will not cause trouble for me or the guards. You will be polite and respectful. If you object to these terms, we have an empty cell. Is that clear?"

Jordan nodded. Arthur growled quietly. "Say, 'Yes, Your Majesty.'"

Jordan looked at Arthur and smiled. Then, turning to Elsa, he said, "Yes, Queen, uh...hmm..."

"Elsa. My name is Elsa."

"Ah. OK, Elsa. I've no objections to your terms." Arthur growled, and Elsa stiffened. Jordan didn't have to wonder why; he had addressed her on a first name basis.

Elsa sighed. "Release him, Arthur." The guard nodded and soon, Jordan's hands were free.

"Thank you very much." He rubbed his sore wrists. He turned to leave.

Arthur grabbed him. "You do not leave the Queen without her express permission."

"You're too overprotective. Work on that." Jordan shrugged free and continued down the hall before opening the door and leaving Elsa and Arthur staring at the barrier, silent as he walked calmly away.

A/N: Hey, dudes! Me again! All right, large number of words! If you haven't noticed already, more words are added to the chapter as more stuff happens. It's gonna be awesome! I can't wait, so, I'm gonna upload this, then get to work on the next chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it. Please, if you have any comments or concerns, feel free to PM me or leave a message in the reviews. Don't sit there, reading and going, "Elsa would never do that!" This is the first major piece of mine that has been updated consistently since November 2013. Yeah... Well, now I'm embarrased, so bye bye!