Author's Note: This is a response to yet another meme on tumblr. It's set in the same verse as Body, Body. Once again, I own neither Elsa nor Anna (not even Arendelle), as these belong to Disney.
Water dripped from the ceiling, lingered a moment on the wall, and rolled over the chains holding the cell's sole prisoner in place. The guards needn't have clasped her in irons or chained her against the wall; the steel door and tight lock kept her just fine. But, then again, every thinly concealed look of disgust and hatred steeled her way was well deserved.
She had, after all, been eating their men.
Anna licked her lips once and wished she had one of their hearts right now, steaming and beating in her open hand. Her sharp teeth spread into a tight grin as she imagined their screams as she bit down into the organ's flesh, warm blood squirting into her mouth. The men tasted better than the women - less stringy and fat - with one exception.
Her sister would taste better than all of them combined.
The thought sent a shiver down the princess's spine; it was the only thing that could anymore. Even as the self-disgust gripped her, she couldn't help but think of the queen - thin, frail, blonde - beneath her, one hand around the fragile neck, the other ripping through her chest. She tried to banish the images from her mind, but they remained just out of reach.
A knock on the door brought her back to the present, to the cold iron tight on her wrists, the rusty chains locking her in place, the constant dripping of water that only served to make her lose what little grasp of control she had left. Then the door swung open with a sharp whine, slamming against the mossy stone wall, and her sister stood in front of her, blonde hair frayed, periwinkle blue eyes wild.
This is how it begins.
The queen turned to her personal guard and whispered something to him. His eyes widened - enough that Anna, even from far away, could see how dark and green they were - and focused on the princess; his jaw tightened and he gave a short nod before shutting the door, locking Elsa in with her sister.
No. Not her sister - the monster her sister had become, the monster she had always been.
Elsa's eyes scanned the prisoner, making note of the blood spatter on her forest green dress. They hadn't given her a change of clothes; none of the guards wanted to be left alone with the murderer, and out of a certain fondness for her sister, the queen hadn't wanted her to be forced to change in front of so many strange men.
There was also that pesky business of having to be unchained to change - and no one, not even Elsa, wanted that. She'd seen her sister drinking blood and merrily chomping on her fiance's heart, remembered Anna taking the heart from her lips and holding it out, offering it to her for a bite. Worse still, she knew how close she'd come to letting it continue.
The villain's ginger hair frizzed out in a halo around her head - save for the one blonde lock, a pale, bleached imitation of the natural white sheen it once held. Three years it'd been there - the queen now realized that strand was more than just a fashion statement. It was a mark of the killer.
"Anna," she whispered her sister's name, and the other woman in the cell - the woman who should have been the princess, who should have been anything but this - grinned a broken smile, one tooth digging into her split bottom lip. "Anna...why?"
Then Elsa stepped forward, and Anna spat in her direction, the saliva landing on her sister's cheek. She reached a hand up and wiped it away, her eyes ice cold. Her back straightened, and the queen stood, every ounce of her regal and poised. The naked vulnerability disappeared as a thin layer of frost coated her skin.
"One week, monster. Then you die for the crimes you've brought against Arendelle."
"Fine by me," Anna hissed. "Maybe you could make it sooner. I wouldn't want to ruin your anniversary."
Elsa flinched and stepped back. There was nothing more to say. What could she say? Everything in her wanted to ask, to comfort, to understand, to accept, to love the way that Anna once loved her, but she feared that part of her sister vanished with the first devoured heart.
She turned to go then stopped, her hand resting on the cold metal door. "I love you, Anna."
The princess inhaled sharply, but by the time the queen glanced back, her teal eyes narrowed, lip turned down in a scowl. 'I'm not a little kid wanting to build a snowman anymore, Elsa."
"I know."
For a moment, it looked like Anna would smile again, the sweet expression she reserved only for her sister, but in an instant it became a jeering sneer. "You're frosting, dear."
Elsa snapped her hand back from the jail cell door, but it was too late. Tendrils of snow swirled around her hand print, and tiny needles of ice poked off the door frame. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Do you regret any of it?"
"Go away, Elsa."
The queen nodded once. Then she took a deep breath, opened the door, and slipped out of the cell. When the door closed behind her, it shut with a final click.
The princess - not a monster, not a villain, a royal with a taste for the blood of men - half-collapsed, her face softening into a fond smile. Her teal eyes glanced out the window and noticed the gray storm clouds gathering overhead. No snow yet. I'm proud of you, Elsa.
Then she leaned against the stone wall and let the dripping water lull her to sleep.