Summery: What happens when there's a prince hiding among the Joes ranks? Chaos, that's what. Enjoy this fun tail of hardships and weirdness as our favorite heroes try to figure their new problem out. Renegades verse.

Disclaimer: I don't own G.I. JOE or the Norwegian Royal Family.

Words: 459

The Past

~June 1st, 1996~

This had to be the worst day of his life. His parents were making him go to a foreign country called America. He had wanted to stay and go riding with his friends, but no, he has to go on this trip with his family. Just because he was the Crown Prince of Norway, didn't mean he wanted to go on this stupid trip, man, he hated his lot in life!

His butler was holding 'worst day of my life' thoughts as well. "Master Nathaniel, Master Nathaniel, where the blazes are you?!"

"Go away, Harold!" Nathaniel shouted at his butler, Harold Pettersen.

"Nathaniel Schlesvig-Sonderborg-Glucksburg, get out from under your bed." Harold said sternly.

Nathaniel came out and looked up at Harold with the saddest look the butler had ever seen on a five-year-old. "B-but Harold, I-I d-d-don't want to go." Nathaniel sobbed.

"Come here." Harold said, kneeling and holding his arms open. Nathaniel instantly ran to him, sobbing. "There, there little one." Harold whispered. "It's alright, look you'll be back soon, but only if you're a very good boy. Okay, can you be a good boy for me while you're away?"

"I-I think I can." Nathaniel said, his back straightening. "Yes I can Harold, I'll be the best prince ever!"

"Atta boy! Now, shall we get ready? The sooner you go, the sooner you get back."

"Yah, what should I ware?"

"How about something nice and comfy." Nathaniel's father, Haakon said with a smile. He loved his little boy more than his father his own father had loved him.

"Okay! Well what about this…" they then got to go through helping a five-year-old pick out clothes and dress.

~July 2nd, 1996~

"Sir, SIR!" a page called after Harold.

"Yes, young man. What can I do for you?" Harold asked politely.

"Sir," the boy started in a shaky voice, "we just got news about the royal family."

"Oh?" Harold prompted.

"They, they're d-d-dead s-sir."

"They're what?!" Harold shrieked.

"Dead, sir." The boy said brokenheartedly.

"How?" Harold asked weakly.

"Terrible head-on collision in their car. The King and Queen's bodies were found, but no sign of the Prince." The page's voice was barely more than a whisper by the time he got to the end of his speech.

Asbjorn, the brother of the late king, then took the crown saying, "I shall keep this country in order until the prince is found, but if he's dead I'll keep it for I'm next in line behind him." Everyone knew he was hopping for the latter, for he had wanted the crown for a long, long time. They were also afraid, for Asbjorn was not a kind man.

It had been nineteen years, and the prince had yet to be found, dead or alive. Everyone had given up hope, except old Harold. He clung to that hope like a lifeline. No one knew that 'crazy old Harold' was right all along. To be continued…