This... ahem... beauty came from a picture by AKApost on Tumblr: post/94464744786/color-practice-a-ka

I'm thinking this will eventually be incorporated somehow with Our Aunt, although I'll have to work with the ratings.

Anyway, fair warning- graphic descriptions and some swearing ahead.


The rope around Elsa's wrists dug into skin unused to such abusive treatment, chafing the skin below until she was sure the bone was showing through. Two heavily muscled guards shoved her to the unforgiving cobblestones and stood a foot away, watching for any sign of escape. Beneath her knees and feet the stones were rough and abrasive, cutting at her skin through the pathetically thin fabric of the skirt they had allowed her to wear. It might have been cold as well, but Elsa couldn't feel it. What she could feel was the sting and burn of the numerous wounds throbbing across her entire body. Rivulets of blood ran from a cut above her left eye and one on her lip, and as she watched, a globule of blood fall from her chin- a bulbous, glistening drop that splattered into the cracks between the masonry, slowly spreading across the grit, turning it from dusty grey to a deep red, nearly black, clay-like substance.

A shadow crossed over her body, and Elsa looked up to see her tormentor, his handsome face twisted by a sneer, saunter up to her stooped body. A naked blade rested easily in his right hand, the near-white steel gleaming in the intense sunlight. Once he was within a foot of Elsa, the man lifted his sword and let it rest against his cheek almost caressingly. The edge caught briefly on her skin, slicing the skin and sending another line of blood down her skin. She was too exhausted, too beaten, to even try to move away. Noticing this, her captor laughed, a sharp, mocking sound the cut the air around them. He struck her cheek with the flat of the sword, leaving a stinging bruise before turning to face the soldiers spread in a half-circle around them.

"Behold, the great and powerful Snow Queen!" he roared. The soldiers joined in his mockery, many adding lewd comments about the clothing that provided little covering for her body. With another barking laugh, the man drew his foot back and sent it slamming into Elsa's side. With a gasp, her upper body dropped to the ground, her breathing suddenly becoming much more painful- she was certain at least one rib had been broken. Another sharp laugh and her captor began to pace in front of his men, letting his sword swing easily with each stride.

"Yes, look upon her, the great Queen Elsa, monarch of Arendelle, hero of the Great Thaw." The last two words were spat out as if they were a bitter food, their speaker accentuating them with two kicks to the queen's unprotected stomach. She doubled over, coughing and groaning as more blood was forced from her mouth. "Of course, this Great Thaw would have never happened if it were not for her. And as her country grows, ours weakens. Who wishes to trade with us when Arendelle has the great queen of ice and snow? This ice bitch is the reason our people have gone from revered to reviled, from powerful to powerless."

"They attacked…"

"SILENCE!" Elsa was able to roll away from the kick enough to avoid another damaging injury, redirecting the blow to her hip, rather than soft tissue. Her tormentor growled when his boot failed to connect to anything vital or easily broken, but settled his loss by reaching down to grab at her braid. Elsa tried to move away, but the guards noticed her movement and stopped her. Their leader wound the braid around his hand as if it were a rope and yanked the queen upright, forcing an agonized cry from her battered throat. His too-perfect face drew close to her own, a mad light glinting in his nearly black eyes, his breath hot and fetid against her skin.

"You don't get to talk, ice bitch. Not until I tell you to. You have no power here, no authority- you do nothing unless I decree it." To emphasize his point, he freed his hand from her braid and thrust her backwards into the waiting arms of the guards, who caught her and forced her roughly back onto her knees.

More blood fell- this time ribbons rather than drops. Abstract splatters decorated the rock beneath her and she swayed, grey eating at the edges of her vision. Elsa wasn't sure how much more her marred body could take before it simply gave up. The man turned back to his followers.

"Now it is our turn. Now we watch Arendelle fall with their 'beloved' queen. Of course, it will not end there. Her filthy line continues with that harlot spare, her husband and their mewling brats." More raucous laughter filled the air as Elsa gritted her teeth, attempting once more to reach for her powers. Oh, how she wanted to impale this snarling bastard for his abhorrent words against Anna, but the familiar feeling of frigid power that had always been coiled, waiting, surging for release just beneath her skin had completely vanished for the first time that she could remember. Still, she tried, tried so hard to do exactly what she had avoided for years, and still she could only summon a few minuscule snowflakes that almost immediately melted. The effort exhausted her, and she sank forward, her forehead nearly touching the ground.

The hot, putrid breath of her abductor wafted across her once more, and she looked up to see his face drawn close, his twisted grin widening. "What, no snow? No ice? Not even a bit of cold? How… disappointing. I would have liked to see your pitiful attempts to fight." His voice had gone from loud and boisterous to low and contemptuous in a manner that sent a shiver throughout the queen's body. He was done playing to his audience. He got to his feet in an easy fluid movement and made a quick, subtle movement to the guards, who responded by pulling Elsa over to a waiting dark stone block crisscrossed with numerous light, perfectly straight lines. They shoved her down so that her neck lay on the flat surface of the boulder, her head hanging a few inches above the ground, and held her there. Their leader turned to the soldiers once more and raised his sword high, the light of the sun sending a blinding beam across Elsa's exhausted face.

"Now, we have our revenge!" His exalted cry filled the courtyard as he turned, gripping the hilt with both hands to bring the sword down.

A tremendous cracking sound filled the air, followed by an explosion as the courtyard door was ripped apart by some blast. Something hissed over Elsa's head, followed by a meaty thwak as something sped into the chest of her tormentor. A strange, gurgling groan emanating from his throat as his sword dropped from nerveless fingers and clattered to the ground. He clutched desperately at the crossbow quarrel buried almost up to its fletching and sank to his knees.

Dozens more quarrels and arrows buzzed overhead, accompanied by the most welcome cry- "For Arendelle!" Behind Elsa, the guards slumped as the deadly projectiles struck home, killing them before they were able to draw their own weapons. Using what little strength was left to her, she pushed herself away from the gruesome boulder to see a wave of green-and-violet clad soldiers rush the enemy. Her relief at the sight was so great it brought tears to her eyes. As she watched, a familiar willowy figure surged to the front, holding his sword aloft and bellowing, "To the Queen! To the Queen! Defend your queen!" The tears blurred her vision too much to make out features, but she knew one thing- she was saved.

"NO!"

It was just a single word, rasped from a dying throat, and yet the utter determination and loathing in that one syllable sent terror blasting through Elsa. Her mind screamed at her to move to move, to turn, to do anything to avoid the unknown yet inevitable oncoming danger, but her battered body could not respond in time.

The fire started low in her back, just below the left shoulder blade. It blazed its way through her body, borne by the desperation of a man with one last mission, and penetrated her chest just under her breast in. The agony seared throughout her entire being, stealing her breath and sending clouds of grey across her eyes as she stared in shock at the dripping sword blade jutting out of her chest. Behind Elsa, there was a near-inaudible bubbling chuckle as her muscles gave out, sending her crashing mercilessly to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

The pain was fading, along with the rest of her senses. The last sense that she was aware of was a voice howling, "Elsa! Elsa, NO! ELSA!" It sounded strange, distorted, as if she were listening from a great distance.

Then all went dark, and she knew nothing more.