A/N: So this is a story I had an idea for when I watched The Huntsman; Winter War. What if Anna had the same ice powers inside of her, just waiting to come out? It's just a one shot and pretty dark, but I really enjoyed writing it.

Her fingers were past hurting. She was past feeling anything. There was only cold and numbness and unending white. White as far as she could see, swirling around her in beautiful, deadly patterns.

Elsa had a gift. A tragic, destructive, dazzling gift that was slowly killing Anna from the inside out. Her very heart hurt, a dull and aching pain worse than anything she had ever felt before. Worse than every time Elsa rejected her, worse than her parents dying, worse than Hans revealing his true colors. Worse than a breaking heart, a frozen heart was pumping ice through her veins.

It seemed foolish to still rely on love now. Even as she stumbled against the wind atop the frozen ford, Anna knew that Kristof couldn't save her. She doubted that true love even existed, at this point. Yet she pushed on anyway, one last flicker of hope refusing to die in her soul, that last little flame of warmth that refused to die just yet. Standing firm against the howling of the wind and the blizzard that tried so desperately to snuff it out.

She was going to live. She was not made to be weak, she was not made for two days of adventure after a lifetime of being trapped in the castle. Even now as it felt like her body was turning to stone against her will, while her mind stubbornly insisted that she wasn't dying.

"Kristoff." She breathed the name, knowing it was the only hope she had. One foolish, childish hope spurred on by desperation and a lifetime of belief. The word floated around, tossed about by the wind and echoing in her ears. The wind that tossed her back and forth, to strong for her to stand firmly against.

But there was no way he could hear her. Not through this terrible blizzard, like a blanket of snow over them. She took a few more faltering steps forward and felt the ice creep up the sides of her face. Her time was dwindling, the icy air not even burning her lungs any longer.

Then just as suddenly as the ice invading her heart, winds drove the snow and ice away, nearly blowing her to her feet. She saw Kristoff first and said his name again, a little louder this time. She stumbled towards him, fresh hope sparking up again. Maybe it wasn't the end just yet. Maybe she still had a chance. He said her name and he was running towards her, closing the distance.

Then there was the faint metallic sound a sword being drawn from its sheathe. It pulled her attention away from Kristoff, across the ice to Hans standing over Elsa. Her sister was crumpled on the ice, like all the life was completely gone out of her. Any of the hope, the fragile light nearly blown out in Anna's own heart, it was gone in Elsa.

Anna shifted her feet as fear struck through her. Elsa was her person. It didn't matter what she had done, it didn't matter what happened, Anna would always fight for Elsa.

But her feet weren't moving. They twisted up together and weighed down like they were glued to the ice. She wasn't going to make it to Elsa's side in time.

The sword rang again and crimson spilled across the ice. A cry tore from Anna's throat and she crumpled to the ground, feeling her frozen heart shatter. The ice was already beginning to crack and diminish and draw into Elsa's lifeless body, but the cold in Anna's body wasn't receding at all. In fact it seemed to be growing, intensifying.

Her life flashed before her. Her parents faces before they left, Elsa's closed door. Hans breaking her heart, Elsa's severed head with blank eyes staring back at Anna. Her hands dug into the ice below her as cold burst through her veins and the ice that had just covered her fingers and face cracked off to gleaming white skin.

A cry of agony and rage ripped out of her and ice erupted inside of her. This time though, it felt like life rather than death coursing through her. Raw power that was hers to control. Was this how Elsa had felt, fingertips tingling with unused power and life? The ice that had been shattering and withdrawing hardened again. Anna drew slowly to her feet, letting her silky white hair fall behind her. She screamed once more, this one full of power and bitter cold. Her sister was dead and she had nothing left. Love had done nothing but hurt her. Love was weakness.

Anna's head snapped to Hans next, who recoiled in horror at the sight of her. "You." She hissed, stalking after him. He tried to run, but it was too late. One stomp of her foot and icicles rose up below him, impaling him at least fifteen feet in the air, more crimson blood pooling below and mixing with Elsa's.

"Anna?" It was Kristoff, taking a cautious step forward with one hand out. He looked afraid, and she couldn't describe how good it felt to see fear in someone's eyes looking at her. She was never the one that was feared or respected. She was the spare princess.

Now she was the queen. The snow queen, with the same power Elsa had running through her blood.

"Run while you still can." She spat at Kristoff, feeling she had no immediate quarrel with him. He paused only a moment before he turned and raced across the ice in the opposite direction of her. She watched him catch Sven and the two of them disappeared across the fjord. Above in the castle people were betwixt themselves, apparently trying to decide whether or not they should be cheering.

Anna strode for it, suddenly understanding Elsa's need for a change in wardrobe. Hers felt hot and confining and despicably soft. She let ice burn away her current dress, forming a new one around her even as the old fell away. But she didn't pick out anything light, black ice surrounded her. Black like the nothingness she felt inside. Black as the night, black as the winter that was about to come. The little flame of hope and life that had flickered for so long was finally gone, leaving nothing but darkness.

Yes, this winter was just beginning.