The lights of the city called out to the fleet like distant beacons. The sails blew in the calm breeze as they made their way under moonlight. The gentle rocking nearly lulled the First Mate to sleep, but he was kept awake by the snoring of those in the crew's quarters. He watched the lights get slightly closer every little while as he drank his rum and smoked his pipe. In every sense of the word, this was the calm before the storm. They were almost there.

He hummed the tunes of his favorite songs in a drunken half-asleep stupor. He gripped his flintlock pistol tightly to make sure he was still in possession of it. He was ready for this. He was ready for anything.

"We're gonna take it faster than we ever taken anything before, y'know," came a voice, and and he didn't need to turn around to know that it was the captain. The First Mate merely nodded in acquiescence.

Popeye stepped forward along the creaking boards until he was standing side-by-side with his subordinate. He was significantly taller and much more muscular than the second-in-command. "I hear them princesses is some pretty little ladies," he continued, ignoring the other man's obvious lack of desire for conversation.

"I wonder if they're as kind as they are beautiful." The First Mate muttered in his raspy, monotonous voice. To this, Popeye gave an uproarious laugh that nearly woke every crew member.

"They never are, Timothy! They never are! Way I see it, women can be fine-lookin', or they can be fine-talkin', but never both."

Timothy merely shrugged his shoulders in response.

The two stood in silence under the starry sky as the boat (and by extension, the fleet) came closer and closer every second. Arendelle was going to be theirs for the taking and they knew it.

…

Elsa sat on her bed watching the moon through the window of her room. She gave a content sight as she smiled. She had always had an inexplicable love for summer nights. There was something so peaceful and majestic about them. It was like the day was resting after a long and strenuous journey.

She rolled her eyes. Elsa had always had terrible habit of waxing poetically when she was tired and by herself. Of course, the solitude didn't last long, as, directly after this thought occurred to her, she heard a gentle tapping on her door.

"Elsa?" Her sister's voice whispered from the other side.

Elsa got up slowly, flattening her gown, before walking over to the door and opening it. Her sister stood, hair messy, eyes baggy, and clothes ruffled. From her puffy and red eyes, it was evident that she had been crying.

"What is it, Anna?" Elsa asked delicately in a concerned tone as she led her sister into the room and closed the door behind them.

Anna sniffled.

"I...I don't want to talk about it," she whispered in a shaky and abnormally high-pitched voice.

"Anna, if you didn't want to talk about it, you wouldn't be here right now," Elsa said in a flat response as she gestured for Anna to sit on the bed. When she complied, Elsa immediately sat net to her and wrapper her arm around her.

"So, tell me, what's wrong? What's going on?"

Anna rubbed what was left of the tears out of her eyes and sniffled again, before composing herself.

"It was a dream. I...had a dream." She said, with her voice relatively stable, but evidently ready to break at any moment.

Elsa had a blank faced for a moment, and then sighed with irritation as she tried to avoid getting angry with her sisters.

"You're this worried about a bad dream, Anna? Why?"

Anna paused for several seconds.

"You died," she whispered so quietly that Elsa barely heard her.

Elsa shook her head in disbelief.

"Anna, it was a dream! I'm obviously still alive and here. There's nothing to be worried abo-" she began.

"It wasn't like that!" Anna shouted with a glare, tears streaming down her face again. She then bowed her head as she started to shake and cry silently. Elsa just hugged her sister and didn't speak, waiting for Anna to explain herself.

"It..it was like a premonition. Like I was seeing into the future. I don't think it was just a dream, Elsa. It felt more real than any dream I've ever had before," she said, in between gasps and her attempts (and failures) to contain herself.

Elsa started to speak, but then realized that she had no idea how to respond. So the two sat quietly. And they sat quietly the entire night hugging each other.

Light began to pour in through the window as the sun rose gradually on the horizon. The two stirred from their mutual light sleeps. They both turned to look at the rising and watched it in a calm and pleasurable silence, unlike the uneasy and miserable silence that had overtaken them during the night.

Anna turned to her sister and the two locked eyes.

"Elsa, I'm sorry about last night. I really overreacted, an-"

Elsa started to cough. Anna waited politely, but the coughing didn't stop. Elsa held her mouth into her hand as she kept coughing uncontrollably.

"Elsa?" Anna asked as she tried to speak to her sister, who was still wheezing and exhaling without a pause, tears welling up in her eyes and muscles weakening. Anna stood up in a shock. Clearly something wasn't right.

"Elsa?!" Anna asked, this time sharper and more concerned, but her sister didn't seem to even notice her this point as she feel backward onto the bed, the coughing never stopping in pace or intensity. Anna quickly started for the door to get help, but before she got through the doorway, the fit stopped. She spun around nervously.

Elsa was taking deep, long breaths as she laid backward, visibly more relaxed. The coughing had stopped completely.

Anna felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She walked over to her sister in order to make sure she was fine, only to see something that she hadn't anticipated.

"Elsa?" Anna's nervous voice croaked.

"In a minute, Anna," Elsa said in between breaths.

"Elsa!"

Elsa sat up with irritation in order to see what her sister was so worked up about. She stopped herself when she caught site of something on the bedsheets.

Blood.

She looked up at Anna as worry and disbelief filled both pairs of eyes, before she summoned the courage to look down at her hands. They were as bloody as the sheets.

Anna slowly put a hand to Elsa's head. She was burning up and sweating profusely.

"Anna, g-get the doctor, please."

…

Elsa was seated in the wooden chair in a shocked state. She hadn't acknowledged the existence of anyone around her in hours.

Deadly disease.

That was the phrase the doctor had used to describe her condition. He said that, based on similar cases he had seen, she had half a year left to live, at most.

Just then, an adviser burst through the door. "Hey, wait!" Anna's distant voice called, but the adviser was already spouting off information.

"Queen Elsa, I'm sorry to interrupt, but it seems we have a crisis," he said quickly as he bowed to Elsa.

"Now is not a good time." Elsa said calmly and flatly without turning to look at him, instead opting to stare blankly at a wall. Anna ran in just them, and grabbed the adviser's arm, while quickly trying to apologize to her sister.

"I'm so sorry Elsa, I tried to tell him to go away, but he just bolted past me. Come on, let's get you out of here," she said, tugging on the man's arm in a desperate attempt to get him to leave the room, but he planted his feet on the ground with a determined face.

"Queen, I truly am sorry, but I would not be here if this weren't of the utmost importance."

"Not a good time. Come back later." Elsa said through gritted teeth as she continued to focus on no particular feature of the plain wall.

Anna tried with all of her (non-impressive might) to pull the man out of the room, to no avail.

"Queen!" He said.

"What?!" Elsa shouted, as she turned her neck and shot a glare at the adviser with her rage-filled eyes burning into his.

Shocked, he took a moment to speak.

"There's a fleet heading towards us. We believe them to be invaders."

Elsa's glare vanished as she sank into the chair completely. Arendelle was in danger, which she considered to be infinitely more important than her own troubles.

"Invaders?" She repeated nearly-silently to herself, but his sharp ears caught it.

"Yes, invaders. Pirates, to be exact."