Kristoff had fallen asleep leaning against the side of his bed. He had been facing his bedroom window, the one that pointed to the lake. That particular window was facing in just the right direction. From that angle, Kristoff could vaguely make out the lit windows of the Westergard mansion. For the past few weeks he had found himself staring at the house, wondering which one of the dimly lit rectangles led to Anna's bedroom. That night he exhausted himself with confused thoughts of the strange young woman who had skipped into his life, kicking up a bit of excitement with every step.

The muscular blonde's weary eyelids reluctantly opened about an hour after he had fallen asleep. There was a bizarre scratching sound and a whimpering that almost pained Kristoff to listen to. It was coming from the room behind him.

"What in God's name…" He mumbled groggily as he pulled himself off the wooden floors of his bedroom and began clumsily walking towards the front door. His footsteps were heavy and echoed through the entire cabin. "W-what is it, Sven?" Kristoff twisted his calloused palms into the sockets of his eyes, as to wipe away the drowsiness. Sven stared up at the towering man, his eyes begging for Kristoff to open the door. "A-alright, boy. I guess nature calls?"

As the front door creaked open, Sven sprang to his feet and darted across the lawn. Kristoff chuckled, "Nature was really calling…" He rubbed his thick fingers through his shaggy blonde hair and let out a boisterous yawn, but his signs of weariness came to a halt once he caught a glimpse of an angelic figure making her way towards him. He stuttered over his own thoughts as he tried to make sense of his vision. Her sheer, white nightgown was revealed as her silk bathrobe loosely came undone with each step. Her copper hair flowed delicately in the breeze as if she had stepped out of The Birth of Venus. W-Was he still dreaming? This couldn't truly be happening, right?

His mouth formed a faint smile as he watched her strut towards him, "A-Anna?" The blonde began instinctually walking towards her. His mouth dropped. What he had thought was a dream had swiftly transformed into a nightmare as she staggered to the ground. Tears were streaming down her face as she stroked Sven in relief.

"Anna!?" Kristoff sprinted towards her in a panic. His gut churned in worry as he galloped towards the redhead. He knelt down in the wet grass next to her, "What's wrong?! Who-"His eyes scanned her entire body. He saw the bruises that were forming across her cheek like purple watercolor across a piece of parchment. He saw her bloodied knuckles and a large bruise on her upper thigh. Most importantly, he saw her strength.

"Who did this to you?"

Anna lightly wiped the stray tears from her eyes and smiled sadly at the ground. Her head shook slowly, left to right, as she sniffled loudly. Kristoff knew. He knew Elsa had finally told her about Hans. He knew Anna, being Anna, had confronted him. He put a large hand lightly on the young woman's shoulder.

"Anna, I need to take you to the hospita-"

"No," Her head shifted sharply towards him,"Kristoff, no. I-I don't want to. I don't like hospitals. I don't lik-"

He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her gently, desperately hoping to pacify her, "Shh... Okay, but you need to see someone. I need to know you're alright." His face flushed at those words but he didn't care. There were more important things to worry about now. He swept her off the ground and began awkwardly walking towards his beat-up jalopy of a truck. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled her face closer to his neck. Sven anxiously followed.

He opened the door and gently placed her in the passenger seat. He gazed at her sympathetically for a moment, then his eyes widened as if he had forgotten something, "I'll be right back, okay?"

Anna watched the large man run back to the cabin. He remerged with a small blanket grasped in one hand.

"Here," He wrapped the fabric around her, "I-I just…I know it gets cold at night and –"He stopped and jogged back around the vehicle, opening the door, and climbed in. The truck was not very sturdy and it shook slightly under the weight of his body. Where was he taking her? What if…What if he really was still taking her to the hospital? She began to dread the thought as she saw the determination in his face as he began driving towards the city. She closed her eyes, attempting to calm herself down. Maybe if she didn't see where she was going she would be alright.

The truck rattled to a stop but Anna kept her eyes sealed.

"Anna? Are you alright?" Kristoff watched as she bit her lip and hesitantly opened one of her eyes. They were in front of one of the most popular cabarets in Arendelle.

"Roxy's? You brought me to Roxy's?! I hardly think jazz music and scantily clad women will, in anyway, help me"

Kristoff chucked loudly. "Anna," He opened the car door and quickly rounded the truck to meet her on the other side, "This is…well, I know it's strange but this is where my Ma works." The well-developed man hoisted her back into his arms and out of the car. "She'll know what to do, alright?" He gazed into her blueish-green eyes and nodded in assurance. Sven waited in the bed of the truck.

He took her through the backdoor, leading to numerous rooms that were covered in colorful boas and strewn with sparkling sequins. A woman, in what looked like a corseted leotard of some sort, hurried by. She seemed to have known Kristoff and seen the desperation in his eyes as she made her way into one of the dressing rooms. Almost immediately, another woman emerged from the very same room. She was a curvaceous black woman, her hair in short pin-curls. She was glamorously dressed in a long, silver gown. Anna recognized her straightaway. She was Miss Bulda, one of the most talented jazz singers in Arendelle.

"Kristoff! Baby! Oh..oh dear…" Her large, brown eyes glanced over the disheveled pair in front of her, "Bring her into my dressing room, alright? I'll go ask Grand Pabbie what'll help"

Kristoff set Anna down on the pink lounge that was pushed against one of Bulda's dressing room walls and stood over her, awkwardly searching for something to say. His mouth fell slightly agape as his mind went blank. Anna noticed his eyes were glazing over as he stared down at her.

"D-does it look bad?" Her delicate hand shakily reached her eye but she flinched slightly at the touch.

"N-No…of course not I just-"

"Here we are, Hunny!" Bulda interrupted; there was a glass of brownish liquid in her hand. "Your Grand Pabbie mixed up this little concoction to help with the pain," She said to Kristoff, "Now, get out of here! Shoo! I wanna talk to…"

"Anna," The redhead said shyly.

An oddly large smile stretched across Miss Bulda's expression. "Ah yes, Anna." She slapped Kristoff's arm playfully and began pushing her adopted son out of the room;" I'd like to speak to Anna alone." She winked at the concerned blonde as the door slammed in his face.

Bulda sat on the edge of the lounge, next to the petite redhead. She handed Anna the glass and smiled warmly.

"Now, I'm not going to lie to you. This is not going to go down easy and it's not exactly legal but…it'll help. God knows it'll help…"

Anna couldn't help but smile back at the woman. She was so, completely sincere. "Thank you, Miss Bulda you're-"

"Hunny, just call me Bulda. As far as I'm concerned we're already family," Bulda giggled slightly, "Now drink up. The quicker you do it, the better. "

Unenthusiastically, Anna choked the brown liquid down. It was if she had swallowed a ball of fire. Anna's expression contorted and her eyes squeezed shut, which caused the side of her face to burn with pain once more.

"Now, before I leave you be so you can rest…I just want to ask you a few things, okay baby?

"O-okay…"

It was a half an hour before the door re-opened. Kristoff was sitting in the small hallway, his head in his hands. Bulda plopped herself down next to him and wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders.

"Baby, you alright?"

He didn't bother to lift his head. He began to nod a slow "yes" but it rapidly morphed into a solemn "no."

"You know, she is. Her nose still works, she's still got one hell of a smile, and she's still absolutely gorgeous…" She grinned at him.

His head slowly lifted from his hands and he sighed, "Is she alright though?"

"Baby," She put a hand on both sides of his face and pulled his head so he was facing her, "That girl is strong. She is brave. Her heart needs to mend but she'll be fine. You know why?"

"Why, Ma?"

"You."

She kissed him hard on both cheeks then searched his eyes and gave him a bizarre little smirk, "Did she like those chocolate cookies?"

His face went hot and he pulled away from her grip embarrassingly, "MA…."

"You know," She gave a heavy laugh; "You can say she's intolerable all you want but it doesn't make it true."

"She's married," He blurted, as if it had struck some kind of nerve.

Bulda rolled her eyes. She knew what he had said had sounded absurd given the current circumstances. "Well, go ahead," She nodded towards her dressing room door, "Go talk to her then. The babe will be a little…wonky from the drink but-"

He hoisted himself off the ground, mumbled thanks to his mother, and quickly began to open the door.

"Anna?"

He was greeted with a lazy grin and an elongated, "Heey"

He chuckled slightly at the very drunk redhead as he sat at her side and, as gently as he possibly could, placed a few misplaced locks of copper hair behind her ears.

"How are you doing, dollface?"

"Ab-so-lute-ly wonderful," She giggled.

He set down his hand; accidently grazing her scraped knuckles and immediately blushed.

"Ouch!" She exclaimed, bringing her own hand up to kiss away the pain.

"W-What happened there? I-I mean if you don't mind me ask-"

The redhead grinned and wrapped her arms around his heavy neck. She pulled him close to her face and whispered, "I socked him," Her already large eyes widened, "Right. . Kisser." She began giggling hysterically, as if she hadn't a care in the world.

What a weird little thing, she was. His serious expression lightened as he watched the beautiful woman giggle. She punched…Hans? She punched a Westergard!? Holy Hell. He wanted, so desperately, to kiss her perpetually red lips but, in that moment, settled for her forehead.