Warning: violence.

Chapter 10: Frozen

"What if they're barking up the wrong tree?"

"Hush, Anna. Not so loud."

"I know, I just mean: what if she's thrown them off her scent completely- she's got more brains than a lot of people I know, and I know a lot of people."

"Anna, please!" Hans' whisper was desperate.

"Okay, okay, sorry." Anna whispered back.

Anna and Hans had followed the royal pursuit to the foot of the mountain range. On the edge of the forest, the pursuit had dismounted to continue the search on foot- it was not hard to see why. Several of the King's hunting dogs had been brought into the fray. The canines yapped and growled at each other, milling around aimlessly till Amund had tossed something to the ground. Anna thought it was a comb. Seeing that the King and his men were going by foot, Anna thought it prudent to follow suit and continue their dogged tailing on foot. Hans, for once, agreed that it was a good idea.

This is what led to them crouching behind a particularly wide and particularly well branched fir pine. In front of them, further up the slope, the guards moved around cautiously with their dogs. The two had been crouching there for some time and Anna's leg had fallen asleep; not only that, there was a particular fly that persisted to land on her nose. Why the fly had decided to torture her thus, she did not know; but Anna knew that if the fly landed on her face just one more time, its entire race would one day rue its behavior.

"You think-"Anna was just about to begin another whispered conversation, when suddenly, several of the king's hounds began a horrendous din. Anna's words died in her mouth as her heart sank for her sister. The dogs were onto her. The guards began moving quickly uphill, battling the branches and the unsteady incline of the mountain. Hans tapped her on the shoulder- it was time they moved too. Anna needed no further encouragement.

They crept slowly behind the King's company, the mattress of pine needles padding their steps. Luckily, the wind was not blowing from behind them, though Hans did pause every few steps to check. Thus moving, Anna and Hans inched up the side of the mountain, ever keeping in the shadow of the hounds and the King's men. The dogs were as noisy as ever- Anna glared at them: they hunted her sister with as much joy as they hunted rabbits.

They were almost upon the mountain ridge. Beyond lay a wide valley where the trees grew thicker and denser. If Elsa had made it that far, perhaps she'd be able to lose the dogs among the streams- or so Anna hoped. Suddenly the barking from the dogs reached a crescendo, joined soon enough by the gruff yelling of the guards. Anna started and peered up towards the top of the ridge. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight that met her eyes.

A long woman stood there at the top of the ridge in a clearing. The light touched her hair and turned it white like snow, touched her dress and turned it the darkest shade of blue. It was Elsa.

The girl with the iron-gloves stood in the center of the clearing. Dogs bayed, barked, and growled at her from all sides, hemming her in; denying her even the hopes of escape. In the shade, their eyes glowed with the reflection of the sun. Elsa never knew till this moment how frightening the royal canines could be. The guards stood stiffly back, straining against the pull of the dogs. She saw their swords, their crossbows. She saw her uncle and his great war-bow slung around his back.

She was going to die today. Nevertheless she stood and faced them; she would die on her own terms.

Elsa looked at her uncle, and he looked back at her. For an eternal second, they held each other's gaze. Dull green gazed into the icy blue, and the icy blue stood firm. Every so often, a person would stare death in the face and death would blink.

"Any last words?" said the King; drawing his war-bow.

Elsa stared at the point of the arrow, its dark chrome surface glistening in the shade; the red goose-feather tails giving it excellent juxtaposition with the rest of the wood. She wondered what it would feel like, in a moment, when he shot the thing through her heart.

Would it hurt?

There was, then, one last thing she wanted to say.

"I'm sorry, your Majesty." The words came out dignified; reverent; honest. She saw the man's eye twitch. "I'm sorry for causing the death of your wife."

For a moment, there was silence. The arrow did not come, instead:

"Your apology won't bring her back, you know," spoke Amund of Arendelle.

"I know," said Elsa. "But it does not make my apology any less sincere."

She looked at him and saw that he would say nothing in return.

"I am truly sorry, Uncle."

For a moment the man before her wavered. The look in his eyes changed, Elsa could not describe it: was it regret? Was it resignation? She realised that she would never know, for the moment had passed and his eyes hardened once more.

"I know," said Amund. "But I cannot forgive you."

He drew his bow. He would not miss.

Elsa took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

Someone screamed:

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

There was a flurry of steps, a commotion amongst the guards, the sweet 'twang' of a bow string, then something warm and solid smote Elsa to the ground. Arms, strong and warm enveloped Elsa as she lay on the ground.

Elsa opened her eyes. Her confusion lasted only a moment before she realised who was on top of her.

"A-Anna?" Elsa was dumbstruck; blindsided by whatever magic had deemed fit to conjure up her sister to be with her in such a perilous moment.

"Anna, what are you-?"

A whimper from her sister brought Elsa back to reality. Since no arrow had pierced her heart, there could only be two possibilities. Out of the two possibilities, Elsa was only prepared to deal with one.

But alas, the arrow had not missed them both.

Elsa saw with growing horror the red goose feathers sticking out of her sister's lower back. The red patch was growing. The cloth grew wet around the crimson stain. Elsa was rooted to the spot, her mind blank and limbs heedless.

"Anna?" It was all she could say.

"Hey," gasped her sister. Elsa could see the blood running down from her mouth- the girl had bitten her lip so hard it had nearly split in two.

"Oh, Anna, what on earth, what…" Elsa was beginning to panic.

"Somebody…" Her words were lifted to the general audience.

"Somebody help-"

The rest of the sentence died on her lips as she looked up and found herself staring right at her uncle. Then she realised: no one cared. The dogs, if anything, were driven to greater cacophonies by the smell of fresh blood.

Dumbly, Elsa saw her uncle reach down, pick up her trembling sister and toss her roughly aside. Anna gave a strangled gasp upon hitting the ground and curled up into a shivering ball.

"Two dead princesses in one day are a bit much, don't you think?"

Amund said as he drew his sword.

Suddenly, Elsa wasn't dumb anymore.

The air grew chill and the skies clouded over into darkness. Elsa felt a rising energy within her, a merciless flame that consumed everything. She was being hollowed out like a melon: her restraint being replaced with power; her calm replaced by fury; her maturity replaced with wrath. She felt it surge within her- a limitless energy. She felt like a firecracker, teetering towards explosion.

With the sound of a mighty thunderclap, the iron gloves on Elsa's hands shattered. The magic of the trolls was broken into nothingness. Summer heat descended into arctic cold in the blink of an eye. Snowflakes began to fall from the dark and gloomy sky, thick and fast, till the ground began to turn white under their smothering embrace. A strong breeze began to whistle its way through the forest, rustling the pine leaves like a thousand chattering teeth.

Amund stumbled back before snagging a tree root and sitting down in an unsightly heap. Elsa towered over him, her skin glowing with a soft white light. She, who had for so long sealed away her awesome strength, was now unbound; and she found that her power could feel no limits.

"What are you doing just standing there? Kill her!" Roared the fallen King.

But Elsa could not hear the King's command over the howling of the wind. As the wind and the snow billowed and boiled around her in a maddening dance, Elsa was only dimly aware of the King and his men. There was an energy surging within her: a boiling, bubbling power that burned her bones and turned her veins to ice. The wind was hers, the clouds were hers, the snow was hers to command; and suddenly, the King and his men seemed so very inconsequential. She was aware of the crossbows being pointed her way; aware that in a moment, they would unhinge and strike her down with a volley of arrows. Elsa turned to them- those soldiers cowering and huddling together in the cold and the ice- and dismissed them with a small wave of her hand. A blast of ice and wind erupted from her open palm and hurled the soldiers away like rag-dolls. Distantly, she thought she could hear tree branches cracking as they landed. Only Amund stood, sword anchoring him against the raging gusts of sleet and snow.

"Elsa?"

Elsa saw her sister's lips move, but she couldn't hear her voice. She strained her ears for the rest of the sentence, but the wind wrapped its swirling gales around her head and muffled her ears. Now that she had unleashed the storm, Elsa found that she had no power over it. By right, it was hers to control; but instead she found herself being blown around on her own two feet. Her feet throbbed with every wavering step she took.

Reaching out with her hands to the sky, Elsa gritted her teeth and commanded the wind to stop: the wind howled with laughter and blew stronger still. Elsa turned to the snow and begged it to cease; the ice cackled and danced around her in an ever thickening sheet of white. Elsa watched in horror as rocks cracked and trees bent with the ice and snow- her efforts had been futile; and as she began to panic, so did the storm take on a totally frenetic pace.

Elsa fell to her knees, the ground shuddering as she did, and begged the storm to calm. She cried out to the wind, to the snow, to her father, to her mother, but no one heard her. No one could. The girl with the iron gloves looked up and saw her uncle advancing towards her, sword in hand, shielding himself from the buffeting wind with his cloak. Elsa scrambled to her feet- she didn't want to die either.

"Don't!" She warned. "Don't come any closer!"

But the wind drowned out her pitiful voice, and her uncle came closer still.

"I can't control this!" She cried. A gust of ice blew the crown from Amund's head; but now he was right in front of her.

Amund raised his sword high, before bringing it crashing down. Elsa screamed and raised her arms against the stroke of doom. Suddenly, everything became bathed in a blinding blue light. Elsa felt the ice rage inside her veins, felt the fire roar inside her bones; the magic that had been pent up inside her for so long surged out of her in a single instant, washing over the landscape.

The world was still.

The wind was gone and snow no longer fell. So quiet had the forest become that Elsa could hear her own ragged breaths. Slowly, cautiously, Elsa opened her eyes. She was still alive! Then she noticed the ice. There was no longer ground for more than a hundred meters, only ice. The trees around her had become frozen sculptures. The grass, the rocks…

Something fell from the sky, shattering to pieces on the ground. Elsa saw in horror that it was a bird, frozen solid.

A wheezing gasp drew her attention away from the dead bird. Elsa looked up and saw her uncle, collapsed against an icy tree, his breathing labored. In his hand he still held his sword, albeit that the sword was now nothing more than a cracked and broken stump of metal.

"What…" The King's hair turned white as he made a stumbling attempt to rise.

"...have you…" The man buckled to his knees, each breath shorter than the last. Frost patterns spread like ivy across his skin, hanging off his clothes like ethereal vines.

"...done?" Speaking thus, Amund looked up, and as his eyes met hers, he froze. Within the twinkling of an eye, Amund transformed into a human statue of the purest ice.

Elsa stared back into his unseeing eyes in horror.

"No...I …"

"Elsa?"

The girl of the wind and snow whipped around at the sound of her sister's voice.

"Anna…" Elsa made to move towards the fallen girl, but was stopped in her tracks- frozen still- by the look she found in her sister's eyes. Many things she had seen there: joy, love, excitement; but this one was new: terror.

"You...killed him…" The accusation hit home like an arrow, pierced her heart like a lance.

"Anna, I…" But there was nothing more for her to say after that. Elsa could give no defence. Her hands hovered in front of her, useless.

"I…"

Snow fell gently upon her sister's fallen form, shrouding her with a layer of white. There was a scuffling sound to the right. A young man came stumbling in, his mop of ginger hair tousled by the wind. His knees were covered in dirt and there were icicles in his hair. It was Hans; he took one look at the scene, and running, fell to his knees beside Anna.

"Anna! What on earth?" He peered at the rapidly growing patch of red around her stomach. "You're hurt…"

"Wow… didn't think...you'd realise," whispered the princess through gritted teeth.

Hans spared a moment to shoot a glare at Elsa. Elsa shuddered, if Anna's eyes had condemned her, his eyes pronounced the death sentence.

"Hold still Anna."

Elsa saw the prince stiffen as he examined the wound. She saw his eyes widen and his brow furrow. Was that anguish she saw on his face? The snow queen took a hesitant step closer and was stopped in her tracks by a glare from the prince.

"What have you done?" He asked; and Elsa cowered, for she had no answer.

"It- it's not her fault." piped up a weak and shuddering voice. "I dived…" said Anna.

"And what is that?" Said the prince, looking over at the ice statue.

"I did that." mumbled Elsa. "I-I killed him."

And then she saw it in his eyes too, that moment of realization when he recognized in whose likeness the ice statue was made. She saw fear, and horror, and loathing. She was a monster now by her own admission.

First one step, then two, Elsa backed away from the carnage that lay in front of her. Snow was falling thick and fast, blurring the tragedy with curtains of white. It was all too much.

"Just...take care of my sister." She said at last; and that itself was the admission of defeat.

"No…Elsa...don't…" The wind blew away the rest of Anna's protest.

Elsa saw the Prince look at her, eyes smouldering; but she saw him nod in acceptance of his responsibility. He would look after Anna, just as he had for all those years.

"Thank you," said the Snow Queen.

"Elsa, no, please…" Anna's whispered.

Elsa turned and ran.

Watching her sister disappear into the snow, Anna concluded that this was probably the worst day of her life. She couldn't decide if the arrow currently lodged in her stomach was the cherry on top, or the root of all evil.

It certainly felt like the root of all pain. Anna had no words with which to describe the agony she felt. Every little movement, even the shifting of an arm, caused her stomach to wail. When she had moved her head to look at Elsa, the pain had caused her to black out for a few seconds. She had no time, no energy to properly consider all that was happening. It was all too much, too fast.

Was Elsa really her sister?

And yet, even that didn't matter, as the snow continued to fall and the temperature continued to drop. Anna shivered, then gasped in pain when she did so. She was vaguely aware of the growing warm patch of warm around her hands, which clutched the area around her stomach. When she moved her fingers, she found that they were slick and wet with blood.

This really might just be the end of her.

Hans was kneeling beside her. Hans...whose grip she had slipped when she saw Amund aim his arrow at Elsa. Considering this, Anna found that it was probably in her best interest to apologize. Now that she had really gone and done it, apologies seemed to fade into insignificance.

"H-Hans…" Damn, she couldn't even get the words out of her mouth without a spasm of pain.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

Silence. Then:

"I'm sorry too."

"I've been an absolute...absolute idiot."

Silence.

"Do…" another surge of white hot pain flared up. "Do you think… it will take long for...the doctors to...to…?" The sentence petered out into silence. Anna didn't want to talk anymore. And yet, Hans did not answer her.

"Hans?"

Silence.

Anna strained her head sideways to look up at her friend, who was just standing there.

"Hans?"

The man was frowning, a deep scowl clouding his face and charming complexion. As Anna watched, various fragments of emotion danced over his face, indicated by only the slightest twitch of the lip or the eyebrow. He didn't look at her, instead choosing to gaze into the horizon. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, so tight, in fact that Anna thought he might asphyxiate himself.

The snow was falling faster now, and thicker. Anna had to blink constantly so that the little flowers of ice would not become stuck in her eye lashes. The wind, once a gentle breeze, was beginning to pick up. It drove the cold through the layers of clothing, cutting through it like a hot knife through butter. Anna shivered again, only to gasp and groan- immediately regretting the action. She could feel the blood trickle down her mouth- her lip had been solidly bitten through.

Somehow, it just felt like the day just couldn't get any worse.

"Anna." The welcome voice of her friend drifted down to her.

"Ye-yeah?"

"Anna, I'm sorry…" He paused, she didn't understand why.

"Anna…" She could hear him breathe. She could hear the air being sucked deep into his lungs, and then slowly expelled. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you."

She didn't understand.

"Hans?"

He looked down at her. Those warm dreamy eyes were strangely distant.

"Goodbye Anna. I will always cherish the years we shared together."

She began to understand, but she refused to believe it.

"What? Hans...no...what do you mean?"

He looked down at her, silent as the grave. Anna couldn't believe it.

"But… if you leave me here…" She didn't want to consider it possible. "I'll die."

Slowly, Hans nodded.

"Yes, you will."

Anna couldn't grasp it. She wanted to wake up, sit up in her bed and blink away this nightmare. There was only one thing preventing that: she wasn't asleep.

"But…" Words choked in her mouth, clogged up her throat. "I thought...I...thought you loved me. Hans…"

Snow crunched as Hans knelt back down beside her. She could see his face clearly now, and it was as perfect as ever. Slowly, he traced a finger over her cheek and through her hair.

"Oh Anna." He said. "If only…"

"If only?"

Anna watched, in horrified bafflement, as Hans' lips stretched into a tight smile.

"You're going to die, Anna. I doubt even the royal physicians can save you now. And anyway, I don't think you have anything left to offer me."

Was he trying to justify himself? Anna didn't know. Anna didn't want to know. All she wanted to do was to wake up, but she knew she couldn't. Anna wasn't delusional enough to deny that this was actually happening.

"Offer... you?"

Hans let out a thought 'hum'.

"Anna, I was the one who had you disowned."

"What…?"

"I know. Your Uncle didn't like the idea very much either. But I knew certain things that could ruin him; like how he was involved in your father's death, for example."

"Hans, what are you-"

Anna felt her lips sealed by the finger of the Southern Prince, who softly hushed her.

"I thought you might have wanted to know; I at least owed you an explanation. Call it an expression of our friendship."

The prince stood up. Anna looked up at him, tears prickling the sides of her eyes. The prince turned, looked back, and smiled.

"Rest in peace, Anna."

And then he was gone, disappearing into the growing snow storm.

"Hans!" Anna felt the tears trickle down the side of her face, felt the tears freeze before they could hit the ground.

"Hans!" She screamed into the storm, heedless of the pain in her stomach.

"Hans, please!" She sobbed. It hurt. "Come back!"

She had never known pain till now.

"Please! I'm begging you-"

She had to stop. She could feel blood rising in her throat. She could see the splashes of red on the ground near her face. She could see the growing red patch near her stomach. Anna was a dead girl still breathing.

'But only for a while' she thought.

In her desperation she had propped herself up on her elbows. But now her body was growing heavy, her eyelids insisted on covering her eyes. For the first time that day, Anna felt tired. No, not tired; exhausted. All she wanted to do was to go to sleep and hug Hans.

'Hugging Hans is overrated' she thought. Sleep it was then. Anna knew that when she next closed her eyes, she wouldn't ever open them again. There was a strange taste to the finality of that realization. She was going to be dead soon. Slowly, Anna laid herself down, her hand leaving a bloody smear on the ice. She couldn't lie on her back- the goose feathers of the arrow still stuck out from where it had pierced her. If she was going to die, then at least she'd die in the least painful position possible.

Anna's gaze settled on the frozen form of her uncle, kneeling for all eternity. Would it be awkward, she thought, if they both went to heaven?

...

Uncle, Uncle, Uncle!"

Anna tiptoed to reach her uncle's sleeves.

"Uncle Amund!"

The man finally looked down from his desk, dark circles around his eyes. It would seem that policy and foreign investment had done a number on him. The candle light was burning low and the moon was beginning to wax in the sky.

"What is it child?"

Anna held up the book in her hands, high as she could tip toe, so he could see the beautiful cover.

"Read me a bedtime story...please." She emphasized the please, making it sweeter than chocolate.

Uncle Amund frowned and took up the book from the tottering ten year old.

"Why this one?"

"Because."

"Because?"

"Because it's my favorite."

"I thought your favorite was 'The tales of Flynnigan Rider'."

"Well this is my new favorite."

"Alright then." The uncle ceded. "But you must promise me to not skip your mathematics class tomorrow. Mr Eisenhower was quite cross with you today."

"I promise."

They made their way to the bedroom rather quickly. Anna was far too excited to go to bed, but she had to be in bed if she wanted to hear the story. Her uncle tucked her in.

"This was Elsa's favorite too."

She didn't see the sudden stiffening of the jaw, or hear the gradual relaxing of her uncle's breathing. All she wanted was to hear the story. Snuggling up to Uncle Amund, she watched him carefully open the book to the first page.

"The tale of the Snow Queen," he began, voice deep and soothing. He was a great story teller.

"Once upon a time, in a land far far away…"

...

Anna's eyelids drooped and her head hit the snow. It was soft, powdery, and oh so cold.

So cold.

Then, nothing.

Author's note: Next chapter in a week. I promise.

I don't own Frozen.

Peace out.