SIDE: Past 01

It felt good being out of her armor.

Good because there wasn't weight on her shoulders or a heavy plate strapped to her chest. But, Anna admitted, the missing weight was also uncomfortable because she felt so horribly exposed—smaller now that she was no longer encased in metal, shorter now that she didn't look down on people from horseback. It felt like she had been stripped of something as vital as a limb, as though the metal had long since fused into her flesh, but that was ridiculous. She didn't spend all her waking hours armored; that would be impractical. Those precious few hours which she spent unarmored, though, she spent in the privacy of a tent. Not like this. Not wandering the streets, on foot, unarmored, floundering through a vast sea of people. At least she still had her sword. Dressed simply, she could pass as a traveling swordswoman and no one would bat an eye.

And considering that she was deep in enemy territory, she certainly hoped that no one did.

"Miss, would you like to purchase—"

Anna shook her head and pushed past, elbowing her way through a crowd and feeling elbows jammed into her sides in return. She had picked a fine day to enter the City of Dis, capital of the Southern Isles. Apparently there was some sort of celebration going on, some holiday about a revolution—which was a thinly veiled euphemism for a prince slaughtering his brothers to win the throne, an act that became something of a tradition for the barbaric state. Anna had heard that the currently reigning King Markus had acquired the throne in the exact same way, and she knew that he had thirteen sons.

Amazingly, they seemed to encourage fratricide.

"Miss, perhaps you would be interested in—"

"Not at all," Anna said, tearing her eyes away from the sweets on display.

She wasn't here for sweets or fireworks, and certainly not to admire anything of the Southern Isles. There could be nothing here that was comparable to Arendelle. As Anna infiltrated the city, her second-in-command was encamped only a scant few miles away—along with an army. Kristoff was reliable enough that Anna felt no compunctions in leaving him in charge, but she longed to return. It felt wrong to be away from them, the men and women with whom she had fought for so many years. They were hardly an army, really, numbering barely three thousand in comparison to the tens of thousands stationed at the borders, the fifty thousand guarding Arendelle alone, but they had trained and fought and lived together and they were her family. More than her father ever was—

"Some chocolate, Miss?"

"…Fine," Anna said, thrusting a handful of coins toward the vendor, whose gleaming eyes told her that he knew very well that he was feeding into an addiction. Anna couldn't help it. She hadn't had chocolate in a very, very long time. She practically snatched the parcel out of his hands.

But again, delicious as they were, she wasn't here for chocolates. She was here for information; Anna trained her eyes on the Southern Isles Castle. Apparently King Markus had discovered a new weapon to use against Arendelle. A relic from ancient times. A living weapon. A beast of wind and fire.

Dragon.

Anna had already spent many nights imagining it. Dragons were the stuff of fairy tales. Dragon meant a hulking beast, meters upon meters of ridged scales that armored powerful muscle, cruel claws and wicked horns. A swipe of its tail could wipe out a score of men. A glance from its yellow, snake-slit eyes would turn them into stone. Its jaws, lined with serrated blades, could release a torrent of undying flames. Perhaps it would descend from the skies, heralded by thunder and lightning, or perhaps it would rise from the depths of hell, tear through the earth as it erupted in a geyser of fire.

She hoped the rumors were only rumors.

"Stop!"

Anna tensed, her hand already at her sword before she had fully processed the words, but her worry was unfounded. There were soldiers, yes, and they were running in her general direction with their weapons drawn, but they were chasing a little girl.

…Huh?

Anna felt guilty as soon as she realized it, but her first observation was the girl's unusual appearance. Her mother would be ashamed at her for jumping to judgment, but there it was—the girl looked strange. Her hair was so blonde that it was practically white, and she was dressed in…rags, though even that was generous. She looked like someone had cut holes into a burlap sap and forced it over her head.

"Stop right there, or we'll shoot!"

Oh, they were serious. One of the soldiers was nocking an arrow, and the longbow he was using meant that the girl could run as hard as she could—she wouldn't be escaping its range. Not to mention the straight path of the market, the people that had scrambled to the sides of the street and blocked off any potential escape paths; there was nowhere to run. She was running headfirst towards Anna, and the distance was closing so rapidly that very soon, Anna could see the deep blue of her eyes.

Anna grabbed the girl by her wrist, swung her around, drew her sword, and sliced the arrow in two as it passed.

"All right, we'd better run," Anna murmured, and she assumed that her little gasp was the girl's response. She hadn't cared for one, not really. She could already imagine Kristoff lecturing her about the need to stay hidden, but she didn't particularly care for that either so she tuned it out, followed her own advice, and ran.

It was a little unorthodox, but the girl was fortunately light – too light, really, she weighed nothing at all – and Anna had no trouble throwing her over the crowd and into an alley, where she promptly followed by vaulting off a cart and flipping past the blockade of people. She couldn't have done that with armor on. Anna then scooped the girl up again, ignoring her small mewl of surprise, set her on her feet, took her hand, and resumed running. More unfortunately, Anna's lack of knowledge about the streets sabotaged her getaway plan and led to a nasty encounter with a couple of soldiers – who she knocked out within seconds – but overall, she called it a job well done when the search abated, the soldiers moved on to other areas, and Anna had contracted only a mild case of breathlessness as she leaned against a wall to rest.

Oh, and the girl seemed fine.

"Why were they after you?" Anna asked.

No response from the girl, who was sitting with her knees tucked in and her head bowed, so that her long hair spilled over her arms and blocked all view of her face. Anna took a step closer and the girl cringed away, pulling herself into such a tight ball that Anna immediately stopped.

"What's your name?" Anna asked again, gentler than last time, and the white-silver mound twitched.

"…E-El…sa?"

She talks funny.

Not because she stuttered; Anna knew many people who did so, but from them, stuttering was purely a nervous tic. Elsa had spoken like she was experimenting, one letter at a time, as though the sounds were unfamiliar. She'd said her name like it was a question. Was it even her real name?

"Well, Elsa, I'm Anna. Nice to meet you…I think." Anna blinked and shook her head. "Not that I don't think it's nice to meet you, I'm only saying that the circumstances could probably be…better, huh?"

Elsa lifted her head, and once again, Anna reevaluated. Elsa was not a little girl. It had been easy to think that while glancing at her while she was far away. It was still easy now because of her demeanor and the brown rags that swallowed her form, but looking at her face, Anna realized that Elsa was likely older than her and…pretty. Unquestionably pretty, beautiful, even, despite her hair looking like it was unwashed and her face partly dirtied. There was something noble about her face. About her eyes. Sad and tired but wise, clear, and big and…very, very blue. It was a nice shade of blue, Anna thought.

"…Staring," Elsa said.

"Sorry, I was just…" Anna cleared her throat and let it drop, though Elsa tilted her head curiously. "You still haven't told me why they were after you."

Elsa looked down at her feet.

"Well, where you were running from?"

"…Dungeons."

Anna raised her eyebrows. She was deathly curious about what Elsa could possibly have done to be stuck there, but she doubted she would get an answer even if she asked.

"And how did you escape?"

"Friend helped me."

"Can you tell me about them?"

"…Nice," Elsa said, but then she pursed her lips. "Loud. Talked about…weird things. Hearts and vibes and…things. Sometimes scary too, but he was nice. Like you."

"Oh. Thanks," Anna said.

She felt oddly good about that.

Things happened quickly afterward, so quickly that Anna couldn't even comprehend it, and even her memories were unreliable.

Anna remembered resting with Elsa, waiting for the patrols to slacken, wondering what she was to do with an unresponsive, quiet girl on her hands. She remembered the day passing into night. She remembered leaving the cover of the alleyways, trying to leave the city, being accosted by soldiers.

Being separated.

She'd been desperate to fight her way out of the circle of soldiers that surrounded her, and haste meant sloppiness, holes in her defense where there shouldn't have been, and she'd been knocked down, arm broken, screaming at the pain as a knife was jammed into her gut. That was when her memories started to blur into a whirl of sensations and images.

Anna had been lying down on the ground. She remembered a sword poised over her head, the feeling of concrete scratching her skin as she scrabbled for something to defend herself. Then there had been screams in the distance, shrill, painful, her attackers looked away for an instant, her execution was halted. A gust of wind struck them all, and this, Anna remembered vividly, because the sheer strength of it—that feeling would ring in her bones for years to come. It was like being in the eye of a hurricane. Her whole body had vibrated with it, the overwhelming pressure that burst in her eardrums. She'd flipped herself onto her back so she could look up, and there was something coursing through the sky—

Dragon.

She could barely recall what it looked like, other than massive and white and terrible. Its fire burned blue. If it was even fire at all, because fire shouldn't have been so cold. Anna remembered the cold. Numbing, miasmic. It settled like ice in her body and mind, freezing the blood in her veins and the thoughts in her head. Black crept into the edges of her vision. Anna remembered the screams in the city, the lurid glow, the dragon descending and tearing her attackers to shreds, and she had – maybe – struggled for a weapon to defend herself but the dragon had paused, titled its head at her and approached with a careful step—and then it left her alone, taking off into the night as the city burned.

Anna remembered that it had been beautiful.