There was the initial shock, a moment of blankness before she could register the look on her sister's face. Like a timid rabbit with darting eyes, backing away towards the door.

You're not running away so easily this time.

"I'll tell you what!" she called out, above the panicked murmur of the crowd. She caught her sister's attention and grinned, needing to interrupt the moment before it careened beyond control. "Why don't you go up to your room – the one you spent the last thirteen years in – and I'll clear this up" she motioned to the mess that nearly impaled her. "And then we'll have that talk alone. Sound good?"

Her sister paused then nodded, still looking unsure. Anna broke off a piece of ice and dropped in her drink before lifting her glass as…as a toast. To you sis and to revelation! Hopefully, that'll calm her down. She took a sip, still smiling while her sister backed out the door to her room. Once she was gone, the room erupted into chaos, it was so loud, and the voices were indistinguishable while their tone was accusatory, fearful, and even angry.

"Monster!" cried that grasshopper of a duke. "She's a monster!"

Anna turned to look at him. She could have picked him up and smashed his skull over the ice, right through the eyeball and – No! "My sister's not a monster." She said quickly instead. "She didn't mean for any of this to happen. She has no ill intentions."

"But you saw what she did, she nearly murdered us!"

"Yes well, that would've been kind of a bitch to clean up wouldn't it?"

Anna paused. What the hell? She thought. Did I just say that?

For the words seemed to leave her mouth before could think. It didn't sound like her at all. She downed her drink, perplexed and uneasy while the duke stormed off in disbelief. It took hours to calm everyone down enough to clear them out. She had to stand on the podium, the epitome cheer and regality and offer reassurances - bullshitting through her teeth – "We'll have this all under control, allow me to compensate for your troubles…" etc, etc…..

All these years, she thought as she watched the room empty. All this time and not a word from you. Why in the world didn't you say something? Anna sighed as she refilled her glass to the brim with a dark coloured liquor. She was getting drunker by the minute, her limbs feeling progressively heavier while her mind seemed to be lifting out of her head. It was a peculiar feeling that stopped her in her tracks; she wasn't expecting drunkenness to feel like this.

"Fucking hell!" she yelled suddenly to the empty room. For a second, she was shocked at herself until she felt a sharp pain in her temple and a flood of unnatural anger that seemed to secure itself out of nowhere. Thirteen years of suppressed guilt and resentment were finally on her tongue but words were too two dimensional to articulate the barrage of emotion exploding from her being. She took a gulp of her drink that felt like a blow to the back of her head.

"Fuck fuck fuck fucking fuckity shit godamnit!"She leapt up from her seat, pointing viscously at the empty space in front of her. "Fuck you to hell ! Thirteen fucking years you piece of shit fucking motherfucker!" She felt the presence of her rational mind as if she was watching herself in the Third Person, disconnected and observant.

"Oh I know bloody well I'm not being fair." She said in a quieter voice. "This must have been harder for you than for anyone, it's triggered a mammoth case of agoraphobia, I know that but I can't help it right now – I could fucking kill you! Maybe. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuckity shit!" She took another gulp. "It's not your fault, we were raised all wrong but it don't change the fact that you're a fucking batshit crazy piece of fucking work! Fuck you! - I'm not going to feel this way forever, it'll pass and you don't deserve it but for now - fuck you to fucking hell!"

She had to take a breath.

"I could bash you over the head with a candleholder." She muttered, suddenly quiet. She could hardly believe she was saying it out loud. So she was a talkative drunk. "I could take a hammer and break your ribs one by one by one, I could shoot your knees out, I could sever your frontal lobes with a pencil, I could take an axe and…"

Anna had to pause. Could she do it? Everyone has their fantasies and intrusive thoughts are fairly common but actually doing it is something else altogether. My god, she had never felt this close to the surface before. She searched for a sense of revulsion but could find none.

"….What is wrong with me?"

No answer. She shrugged, almost amused and staggered out the door to find her sister.

Anna could never appreciate castles. It was a huge inconvenience getting around – the storage room was in itself a ten-minute walk from the ballroom while the storage room to her sister's room was twenty-five minutes. Her arms were killing her.

"'Hey!" she called out. "So 'how bout that talk?"

"You should go." Replied her sister. "I don't want to cause any more damage."

Anna laughed in disbelief. "Are you kidding? It's a little late for damage control, open the door!"

No answer. Like always, even now after the jig was up, after all these years. Anna stood there for a moment marveling at her frustration for the amount of frustration coursing through her was ridiculous. And it was misplaced but there was nothing that could be done about that. She gripped the axe with both hands and raised it high above her head before sending it crashing through the thick door of her sister's room, listening in delight to the cracking splintering of wood. Filled with adrenaline, she yanked and managed to dislodge the axe, stumbling backwards from the momentum and nearly falling over. She righted herself up, swaying drunkenly and was about to strike again when the door opened.

"What the hell are you doing?!" exclaimed Elsa indignant at first before she noticed the state of her younger sister who standing in the middle of the hall, swaying from side to side, her eyes unfocused but bright, gripping an axe tightly as if using it for balanced.

"Well fuck me, look who decided to open the door!" Anna grinned and staggered forward.

"Anna what's happened to you?" said Elsa, stunned as she backed away into her frost covered room "Are you drunk?"

"Oh drunk, what's drunk? I'm more myself right now than I've ever been, you should try it sometime!"

"I'll think I'll pass." Elsa eyed the axe worriedly. "Now…you said you wanted to talk?"

"You ever wondered what'll happen if you cut off your hands?"

Elsa's eyes widened and she stared at her sister, speechless. "I…..what?!" Good lord what have I done to her?

Anna burst out laughing and explained in a slur, "Well I….I jus' noticed that your frozen output or wha'ever seems to be emitted from the extremities. Like your hands which leads one to wonder: what would happen if we cut them off?"

"…..I've never thought about it….."

Anna continued. "Well I think it would move from the next available spot like the wrists. BUT THEN – what about blood? Would you freeze your own blood? How does that work? How come your fingers don't freeze and fall off from gangrene every time you shoot ice?"

"I…I don't know. Look I think you need go and sleep this off."

"Well of course I do, but I've got an important task here! We could make some real significant observations – do you have a third circulatory system running with endothermic activation energy? If that's the case, then what the hell is insulating it? Like how have you not died from the inside out? Or is it derived from a superhuman overdrive in your metabolism where the excess energy is just expelled? Or maybe it's being absorbed from the environment like plant absorbing CO2 and emitting oxygen? " Anna looked at her sister, holding her axe outward. She imagined the impact of the blade hacking through bones, cracking and splintering like wood, the blood spurting then solidifying. If she held a light to the wound, she may be able to distinguish abnormal structures, a hidden artery or discoloration due to cold. And how would you feel about that? She asked, thinking in the third person. "Only one way to find out."

Elsa looked be at a loss, completely astounded but not yet fearful, as if she didn't believe Anna to be capable of such mutilation. "I am not going to submit to an autopsy," she said authoritatively.

"What if I just cut off a finger?"

"No Anna."

"What if I cut off my own finger in solidarity and then yours? It should be reattach able, I'll make a clean cut."

"You're being ridiculous….." Elsa trailed off as Anna zigzagged across the room to a desk where she laid out her hand, fingers outstretched. She gripped the axe near the blade and was about to bring it down when a gust of frigid air swirled around the room and ice shot up walls. "Oh my god, Anna stop!" cried Elsa, with rising fear and disbelief. "You can't be serious about this, put down the axe!"

Anna turned to her sister with that familiar optimistic, carefree look. But the eyes shone and her lip curled up in a smirk. "You don't have to protect me, I'm not afraid. I'm too drunk for it to hurt much." With that, she brought the blade down on her index finger with a crack - thud, barely audible over Elsa's shrieking.

At first she was amused by her sister's reaction, then mesmerized by the sight of her blood dripping into the carpet. Then –

"Oh fuck! Oh shit motherfucker fuck!" Her nerves were still intact, she had cut it too short and there was pain, a fiery unrelenting pain radiated down her hand and outward where her finger used to be. She picked up the severed digit, breathing heavily. "Fuck fuck GODAMNIT! Fuck you Elsa!" her voice was thunderous, pain feeding anger, feeding pain. "Fuck you for all of this, fuck you to hell and back, you're mad! You're stark raving mad!" Her third person self looked on disapprovingly while she groaned, forcing herself to speak quieter as she turned to her sister, glowering as blood dripping down her arm.

She whispered, "Now it's you're turn."