"Anna." Kristoff hoarsely whispered again, gazing fondly at the greying head of hair against his chest, and her thin hands which weren't as smooth as they used to be, that trembled as they lifted up to touch his face.
Her sea blue eyes widened as she studied his face, taking in the rugged long hair he'd grown and his thin, scarred neck, and his bottom lip that had a nasty twisted scar that trailed up the left side of his bleeding face.
Her breath hitched and she sobbed into his chest, squeezing her eyes shut, unable to look him in the eye... The only eye he had left.
This, she thought, was the man whom she had dreamed about. She had dreamed of a world where she hadn't come home, and stayed up in the mountains with him by his side forever, had children of their own, and worked to make a living.
She had wondered where he was, or what he would be doing, and if he had missed her too. She had hoped for this day, for so long, and then suddenly he was gone. Hans had told her he was dead.
Some nights he would hold her down and whisper to her the way in which he had killed him, describing it in detail, embellishing, exaggerating, listing every last inflicted injury and plea that was laid upon him.
And yet, here he was. He was alive...ALIVE! He had stayed alive, and now she could finally touch him again, and look at him. She could be with this shell of a man, who once was the hero in her dreams.
how thin he was from the years of barely enough food to keep him alive, and he was pale and sweaty, and his blood had dried to his skin in so many places it was like he was dirty, wild animal, soaked in the filth of his existence.
she shook her head and then recalled the blood all over his hat, and mittens... The blood she thought was his, and then she realised that it was all just a trick.
He shushed her, and said her name again, resting his head against hers as she bitterly wept, embracing him tightly, as though to keep herself from slipping and crumpling up on the floor.
she had changed so much, he thought. Her hair was tied back so tight the ribbon couldn't be seen under her bun, and her face had lost that childish plumpness to it. Her eyes had terrible bruise like bags under them and her forehead seemed to wrinkle even before she would scrunch up her brows and sob as she rubbed her cheek up against him.
her dress was long, and conservative, and on her neck she bore a thick wooden scarf, under which he could spot a few bruises in the dull flame light.
Hans had had done that to her no doubt. Kept her up at night, tormenting her with his sickening words and silencing her into obedience. Surely she didn't give up without a fight though. It must have taken many years to reduce her to the subservience she must've been forced into.
was any part of the Anna he knew still there though? Was she still the woman he would envision, by his side as he wept for his friend, and his family and mother? Did she still have the same laugh, and ridiculous temper or the tendency to believe in silly things like true love?
"True love didn't work out for ya?" He guessed, speaking into her hair, gently with his lips, kissing it softly.
She sniffled and hiccuped, and sat back, drying her eyes with her dress, blowing into it, and he couldn't help but smile, stifling a snicker by clearing his throat. She was just as graceless as ever, he thought. Maybe she hadn't changed...not a whole lot anyway.
She sharply inhaled and then with her fingers tore off the tattered shirt he wore and discarded it, in two halves all the way on the other side of the cell. He gasped at her fierceness and then moaned as she began to kiss his bare chest.
She gently stroked his hair from behind and laid her lips on every bruise and blemish, spending a particularly long time on the one near his right shoulder, and he sighed.
He wished his hands weren't in these shackles, so that he might feebly return her embrace and touch her hair, and hands and simply hold her.
She trailed up his neck huffing in disgust at the metal collar that hung around him, and then brushed her cheek up against his chin, feeling the rough, and matted texture of the decent beard he had grown. It wasn't ridiculously long, but full enough to run a little down his neck.
He whined in his throat, a little self conscious, since he didn't know what he looked like, but she didn't seem to mind.
He wished she would look him in the eye.
"The beard is a bit much, but I think I like you with facial hair." She said finally.
His grin almost literally split his face, and he forced it to favor his right hand side, his teeth not really as white as they were, a few visibly missing from neglect and abuse.
He laughed, straight from deep inside, shaking his whole body, as he hung his head. She snorted and then laughed too, caressing his face with a hand.
Kristoff looked back up and sighed, "I missed you. I only survived knowing you were alive." He hissed as his tears stung his empty eye socket, the tears erupting against his swollen, bleeding eyelids.
She clasped her hands together, and stared in dismay. Kristoff controlled himself and then continued.
"I waited for you." He said. "I knew you'd find me someday."
Anna was about to say something, when suddenly a deep red light began to glow in the corner of the cell, by the window. They both looked, and Kristoff hurriedly urged her to come closer with his shackled hands.
"Anna, come here, don't look at it... You don't need to see this!" He cried, and she fell into his chest, panicked.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Its your sister..." He grimly responded... "She haunts me...it isn't pretty."
Anna shuddered, and then buried her face into him and tried not to look.
"She's coming..." The red glow said, with an airy, desperate voice.
XxXxXxXxXxX
Henricka was waiting for her mother to return, hopefully with an idea of how to break out Kristoff. Her father would be gone by tonight, and then Anna would be totally free. She could show the people Kristoff and tell the people what their king had done, not only to him, but to her as well.
Hetty loved him so dearly though. She didn't want him to get into too much trouble. Surely he had a bad temper, and maybe he was a bit too violent, but he was so gentle with her. She adored him, and she saw the beautiful and wonderful man he could be.
She almost was beginning to regret her choice of actions. Maybe she could convince her mother to keep it a secret that she knew about Kristoff. Maybe they could get him to safety and then blame someone else for setting him free.
Fake his death? Maybe...
As she pondered the possible alternatives she didn't really hear the footsteps echoing down the hall, nor did she notice it at first when a group of people rounded the corner..
"We should remove him from these premises in case she decides to wander around while I'm gone. The beast can be held in another side of the prison, but he cannot be caught in ..." The voice spoke quietly, trailing off as it reached her.
She suddenly took note of the shadow looming over her in the flame light, and the dead silence. She looked up and her heart fell, the ice in her veins screaming at her, trying to burst forth and frost up the ground around them, but she held it in.
She willed the fear out of her eyes and took a deep breath, "Oh, hello Papa. You startled me." She smiled, clasping her hands behind her back.
He didn't look impressed though. He was looking around and behind her, checking to see if anyone was down the hallway. He looked at her and then at his men.
"Henricka, sweetheart, why are you down here?" He asked through his teeth, and she could tell he was nervous. She could feel it infecting her with panic, but she held strong.
"I was told there were ghosts in here, but there weren't any. So I decided to leave." She said, looking at him dead in the eye.
He raised an eyebrow and pressed his lips together. He was giving her a kind of look with which she was unfamiliar. He used to look at Olaf that way...
"Your Majesty?" A man asked from behind him.
He turned and nodded, "You go fix it. I'll take her upstairs." he muttered,
Henricka felt her plus increase and she began to talk again, "No, wait..." She blurted
"I was lying..." She said, her father swirled back around to face her, a look of betrayal and possibly something else in his eyes.
She clarified, "I did see a ghost... A hideous red woman... And she fell apart in front of me! And she tried to possess my soul! You shouldn't go down there!"
She recited panicked, but using it to her advantage to appear scared.
Olaf had told her some ghost stories about this place, and had only hoped that he would buy it.
Hans looked at the other men and then glared menacingly at one who seemed to be laughing.
"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm sure she's gone now, now just get back upstairs and stay away from this place. It is extremely dangerous." He said, a sweet texture to his voice, and she almost wanted to comply with him...
But out her mother...
"I...uh..." She began, but then suddenly Hans grabbed her by the arm.
She yelped at how firmly he gripped her, and she began to feel the cold sweat coming...the cold sweat that she felt whenever she froze things unintentionally, and he tried to pull her away with him.
"That is enough Henricka, you're beginning to talk like your lunatic brother! I won't have this nonsense from you!" He scolded her, dragging her away.
The other men began to advance towards the hallway to the dungeons, and finally she lost control..
"NO!" She cried, yanking herself away, trying to reach the men to stop them.
Hans fell back and then his eyes immediately locked with the wall of spiked ice, his men lying around on the ground, knocked over by the force at which it erupted from his own daughters hands...
His own daughter... His only child...the one person in his whole life with whom he was never disappointed with.
She had been his treasure. His absolute pride and joy, she was so perfect to him, in ways that he seldom found easy to describe. He had her whole future planned out, and she was going to be there by his side, never failing him and always being there for him...
But it was all ...this was just...
He glared at her suddenly, his nostrils flared and he shot up to his feet, screaming with rage, "You little witch!"
The he guards stood up as well, racing towards her, and she screamed, the frost shooting forth and coating everything, putting out the torches in its wake.
"YOU TRAITOR," He hollered, lunging for her, ordering his men to go after her.
She tripped and fell a few times on her own ice, but she had much more mastery over it than they did and so she made it to the cell...
But just as she was about to open it and warn her mother...
The cell glowed red...she stared at it with widened eyes and trembled, shrinking back.
"Henricka..." It called.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Anna sat up abruptly, and she yelped, as she heard screams and shouting coming from the hallways, "NO! HETTY" she cried, "HE FOUND OUT!"
But Kristoff managed to hold her back, "Wait calm down, what's going on?" He asked.
He eyed the glowing spectre warily.
Anna yanked herself from him and replied, "He'll kill her... He'll kill her just like he..." Anna turned around and froze.
Elsa stood before them, glowing red and glistening as though she were a poorly carved ice sculpture, melting in slow motion but discoloured red, like blood. She was facing the door, and she turned around in the air, holding her hand up to her.
"Stay...back..." She ordered, her voice hoarse and less spirit like as it had been just a moment ago.
Anna fell to the floor and then tried to protest, "ANNA..." The spirit spoke her name.
She nodded slightly, fumbling for Kristoff behind her somewhere.
"Don't be afraid..." She said, "When your daughter arrives, you must tell her to open the door..."
And nd with that she turned back, her lopsided face dripping a little as she did so. Anna asked many questions all at once, but not one was answered.
Then finally from the other side, they heard Hetty approaching.
"Henricka." Elsa began
"Open the door..."