Warm.
Must keep warm.
Have to stay warm.
She's lost track of time after the fourth (or was it the fifth?) day in this cold, dark dungeon she now resided within. She's not really sure anymore, the days seem to just run together now after she started fighting sleep, staring up at the cobbled ceiling, trying desperately to keep her eyes open and her body from shivering as the snow began to fall slowly outside. But sleep would win her over, it always did, but only for a moment it would seem.
Then there would be the faint sound of keys, a rough, sneering voice, and rough, gripping hands. He would appear at random times, giving Anna know true way of knowing if he was coming or when. But every time she slept, every time she would close her eyes for just one moment, he would always startle her awake.
It wasn't his bruising grip that hurt her nor his brutal slaps, but his words. They dripped with venom: never seeing Elsa again, never seeing home again, never seeing Kristoff again. They would forget her, he would say, who would remember the worthless spare? Threats of hurting them, hurting the ones she loved.
Lies. She knew they were nothing but empty lies. In the end he needed her alive. He needed her with Arendelle so close within his grasp. The hell if she would let him see her break, let him see her cry. She was strong, stronger than he believed she was and she had to stay strong, for them.
Though as many times as she reminded herself that he could do nothing, they were nothing more but empty threats, that the entirety of Arendelle was out searching for her, that they were searching for her, the poisonous words still found a way to create pain deep within her.
Worry.
Fear.
Warm.
Got to stay warm.
There was one moment, one startling moment when she had actually believed his words; that they weren't coming, they didn't care. It scared her so badly the air in her lungs had escaped her.
No.
They did care. They cared so much and she knew they did. It was the cold, the harshness, and the bitter cycle of his dark words that had finally begun to affect her thoughts.
But as she had lay in her cot, eyes staring intensely at the ceiling, she told herself that she would not let him win.
Warm.
Must stay warm.
She thinks of the one spring day when she had some how convinced Elsa to forget her work (she had found her asleep on top of her letter to the Duke of St. Pete's) and stroll with her in the gardens. It had been a beautiful day; the sun had shown bright, no clouds in the sky, the air warm with a slight breeze from the Fjord, all the flowers had bloomed. Arm in arm, they strolled, talking of things. What things, she doesn't quite remember, but what she does remember is the overwhelming feeling of happiness, of warmth as they strolled, talked, bonded, smiled.
Warm.
There was the day in the village, as they strolled along admiring the shops and greeting everyone, when a small girl had run right up to them.
"Reminds me of you. So bold." Elsa would whisper later. The little girl, Lily, they would soon learn blushed as she whispered what it was she so much wanted. Anna had glanced at Elsa, awaiting her response, unsure of how she would react. Elsa had only smiled, beamed it seemed at the request. It had snowed that day in the middle of March, right there in the middle of the square; just enough for the children to build snowmen and giggle as they created angels in the soft white fluff.
Elsa had looked so free, so happy, and so open and in control that it had made Anna burn with pride. Her sister, the one that been so afraid was now so open, so welcoming to her own strength and power and it was the most beautiful thing. So heart warming, so warming.
Have to stay warm.
There were several days when she had experienced this freedom from her sister: the snowball fights in the great hall were her favorites. Laughter and shouts of revenge echoed up and down the castle floors, happiness just overcoming the pair as they continued to wage war between them. It would never take long before a new enemy in the form of a snowman or even an ice harvester would interrupt them.
Warm.
Kristoff.
Just the thought of him made her heart speed up, her cheeks blush slightly. She missed him, oh how she missed him so.
The days of wondering through hidden valleys that he had found years before, exploring every bit of it as they could before collapsing in the warm sun was enough to bring a small smile on her lips. How he would laugh, so full, so deep as he chased her across the field.
Warm.
The nights in front of the fireplace, huddled together beneath a blanket as they told stories. Stories of princesses and knights in shining armor, of dragons and wolves, of harvesters and survival, of trolls and magic; all creating images across her mind as she would snuggle closer, his arm holding her tight against his chest as she would look up and meet his brown eyes. He would always smile before he would kiss her then.
Warm.
So warm.
His arms holding her, his lips upon hers, his large, calloused yet gentle hands cupping her face, rubbing her arms, pulling her close, drawing circles on her back, stroking her hair, running up and down her body as his eyes bore into hers.
Warm.
'I love you's' murmured against her forehead, said with a soft chuckle, a goodnight kiss, scrolled across a note on top her pillow or sometimes on her bedside table, whispered in her ear as they danced across the floor, as they held each other close within their bed, as they both fought to catch their breath after a moment of love.
Warm.
Warm.
Safe.
In his arms, close to his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart as they sit in front of the fire, as they cuddle close in their bed, as they lay out in the open under the sun.
What she would give to feel him again, to see him again, to hear him.
"Anna."
How he says her name, how it creates butterflies in her stomach, makes her heart beat faster. How it sounds like a prayer.
"Anna."
It sounds so real, so incredibly familiar, even though she knows that she has slowly begun to forget the sound of his voice, how it says her name.
Her ears catch the familiar sound of keys; the creaking of the door and it takes two seconds for her to realize that she has fallen asleep once again. Eyes shooting open, she nearly jumps as she feels a hand on her arm.
"Anna." A large figure whispers, her eyes still not adjusted to the abrupt wake up call. "Anna, it's me. It's me."
She stills, hearing familiarity in the voice and her eyes being to see the blonde hair on the large figure, the broadness of his body, the familiar, soft brown eyes that are holding back tears.
"K—Kristoff?" She whispers, gripping his arm tightly as she takes him in. "Kristoff?"
He nods his head, a small smile forming on his face as she begins to feel the beginning of tears forming in her eyes. She throws herself into his arms, burying her face into his neck, breathing him in, taking him in completely. Anna smiles as a sob escapes her, feeling his arms tighten around her, kisses her head softly.
"We don't have much time." He whispers, pulling her back to rest his forehead to hers. "There's a boat at the end of the dock. It's not far but we have to get there quickly." Anna nods, cupping his face (to make sure he's real, he's there, actually, really there), as he does the same to her. "Can you walk?" She nods again. He takes a breath before he asks, "Did he hurt you?"
She can't lie. As much as she wants him to be reassured, she can't lie to him. "Just some bruises, that's all." She smiles, though shaky, as she sees his smile falter. "Nothing I can't handle."
He snorts, leaning in to kiss her. It's a small kiss, short yet sweet but it makes Anna's head spin.
"You're so strong." He whispers. She goes to retort, but a groan reaches their ears and he turns to look outside the dungeon door. She holds her breath, "The guards." He turns to her, grabs her hand and stands, helping her to her feet. "We have to go."
Anna nods. He smiles at her, rubs his thumb across her knuckles and then turns and leads her out the door.
Home.
She was going home.