A/N: Inspired by thefireplanet's Songs of Ice and Snow. Which is literally the best fanfiction I've ever read and if you like Frozen, fanfiction, or good literature in general, you should go read it.

I wrote two versions of this; one with Kristoff and one without. Interestingly, the Kristoff version won out.

Drama-betrayal-angst, not fluff this time. You've been warned.

The humid air stuck in her throat. Elsa crossed to the window and threw it open, but the late summer afternoon was devoid of wind.

"Is something wrong, Queen Elsa?" The prince's face was unreadable. Peeking out from his mop of untidy hair were those sharp eyes - his eyes – that belonged in the head of another prince of the Southern Isles.

"No—" his eyes following her. Sweat trickled down her face, in the crook of her arm, the small of her back. She was so warm. "I'm fine." The room was hazy. She gripped the windowsill, hard. Why was it so hot? Her stomach churned; her heart raced. 'Calm' was so far behind her. No, she was nervous, anxious, panicked. There should be ice - snow - wind - something.

"You don't usually feel the heat, do you?" His voice was too slick. Too suave. No one was getting anywhere with her. This prince was channeling his youngest brother.

Elsa pulled on the magic. She tried to feel, to let it free. Her hands frosted over once; and then water dripped from her palms onto the floor. Her curse, her gift, her magic was drained, like the sun overhead was melting her away.

"This is how the rest of us feel."

He moved swiftly, but not silently. Elsa turned as he came upon her, blade dully flashing in the stark sunlight. She raised her hands on instinct. Ice rose in a brittle sheet before her. His knife stuck for a moment, and then the ice shattered and found its mark. Elsa twisted away with only a shallow wound, but when she wrapped her arm around her torso, she could feel the warm blood through the fabric of her dress.

"Not all gone," he hissed. His eyes - those eyes - narrowed. I already have. Elsa stumbled behind the desk, tripping over the huge chair and landing full-body on the floor with a heavy thud. "Help—!"

Even as Elsa shouted, the door flew open. Anna barged into the room, one hand on the knob, Kristoff pulling on the other, evidently trying to stop her. The triumphant look slid off her face and morphed into one of horror. Kristoff banged into her as she halted in the doorway.

"I knew it—!" Anna managed before the prince, not missing a beat, threw himself at the intruding pair. Elsa's heart stopped.

"Anna—!"

Elsa threw her free hand out at them, but instead of skewering Albert she did nothing more than toss cold slush. The ice shot in an arc across the room but melted before it could take shape and puddled at Anna's feet. The prince lost his footing in the water, backpedaling to regain his balance.

Kristoff was still holding onto Anna and pulled her backwards. She fell into the door, safely behind Kristoff who made a desperate grab for the prince's unguarded hand. He caught it, and they grappled for the knife. Albert abruptly let go of the thing. Kristoff fumbled for it as it slid through his grasp, and unseen, the prince drew another.

"Kristoff, DUCK!"

"Wha-?" he stammered, already bent halfway over trying to grab the fallen knife. And a good thing, or Anna, taking no time to see if Kristoff had complied, would have hit him in the head with the bronze bust she 'd wrenched from the pedestal by the door.

The metal sculpture flew over Kristoff's bent back, and caught Albert in the chest. Those eyeswere wide with shock. Something cracked, and he crumpled to the floor. Kristoff pinned him, and hit him once in the side of the head for good measure. Albert went limp, but Kristoff knocked the knife away and held him down, not taking any chances.

The room was stifling. Elsa tightened her arm around her waist, pain, blood, heat, don't feel. She drew a shaky breath. Anna was kneeling next to her.

"Nice shot, Elsa! Did you see what I—what—are you okay?" Elsa made no move to get up, but lay limp on the floor. Anna realized something was very wrong. "Hey. Elsa. Are you joking? You don't do that. I do that. Please be joking."

"It's okay. It's not—that bad." Elsa's hand clamped over where the knife had struck. Anna noticed, and put a hand on her sister's. Elsa flinched, her arm shifting and uncovering the wound. Anna gasped, hands covering her mouth. "Elsa - "

"I'll be fine," she promised, hoped, prayed. Curled up on the floor, clutching her stomach, blood trailing behind her, she looked anything but fine. The wound was shallow, but the heat. "Just - get help."

"Right." Anna looked as frantic as Elsa felt. "I'll… I'll get - Kristoff, are you okay, is he gonna - ?"

"He's out, I've got him," Kristoff assured her, quickly. "Go."

Anna nodded, biting her lip. "I'm going—I'll be back, I'll be right back Elsa, just wait for me, alright, I swear I'll be right back!" Anna forced herself up and out of the room, shouting Help! Help, someone help! My sister—

Elsa pushed on the wound. Pain. All her years of cold and loneliness manifesting themselves raw and burning and bloody upon her. Don't feel, but it didn't work any more for the wound or the fire in her than it had for her ice or her nerves. The hazy room started to darken, pain and heat blurring her senses. So hot. So tired. Kristoff watched her, concerned.

"Erm… Elsa?" Kristoff asked tentatively. "Hey. Stay awake. Talk—tell me what happened."

Talk. Talking would keep her awake. Her voice was slow, rough. "He—"

He, 'just' Albert. 'just' Elsa-dancing-tavern- dock- starlight-trusting-angry- happily ever after

"—attacked," she swallowed, mind racing—deceived-lied-deluded-betrayed-stabbed-in-the-back-why did I listen to him why did I trust him why stop thinking about him stop stop

"The room was so hot. I tried to stop him. Ice." Ice. What about ice? Hot-fire-burning—She grasped for words. "The ice… melted. It's… gone…" She trailed off. Words. Talk. Keep talking.

"Elsa!" She started at the sound of her name, blinking. Kristoff looked down at the unconscious prince. He sorely wanted to leave him and go to Elsa, shaking, sweating, clutching an arm to herself like she'd fall apart if she loosened it. "You have to stay awake."

"Awake," Elsa murmured, fighting her fading vision.

Anna barreled back in, two, three guards at her heels. They took charge of the unconscious prince, two hauling him away and one staying at the door. Kristoff sat on his haunches, watching Anna slide on her knees to her sister's side.

"Elsa, I'm here, the doctor's coming, it's gonna be alright." Elsa nodded her head, once, up, down. She looked up at Anna, so worried, so scared.

"Fine. I'll be fine," she managed to string a sentence together, feeling anything but fine. Anna's hand was cool on her forehead, pushing damp hair out of her face.

"Elsa, you're—hot." Anna realized her sister had never been … well, warm before. Ever. "You're burning up. What did he do? Your ice. There should be ice." Why would the ice melt unless he did something to her powers?

Unless Elsa— is—

Anna refused to let herself finish the thought. "What did he do, tell me he did something to your powers, your powers, Elsa, you can't—"

"I don't know." Elsa curled in on herself. The ice in her veins was melted away, and there was nothing but searing heat. The last thing she knew was her free hand draped out on the floor, and Anna reaching for it and calling her name. Then heat. Darkness.

A/N: She's not dead!

If I can ever come up with more than "Elsa wakes up in the infirmary and Anna is sobbing because thank God Elsa's not dead" then I'll write a follow up drabble. But she's not dead. I could never separate these two.