Woooooo two more chapters to go! We're almost there! :D Again, thanks to all the people who stuck to this sucker for so long and want to see where we end off. You're all literally the best, from your reviews to your asks on my Tumblr and to any fanart and dedications you've made to me. You guys are seriously the best!

Also anyone realize that OUAT 4x03 kind of sucked tbh?

Lyrics from "Your Body is a Weapon" by The Wombats. Check them out. Seriously. They're amazing. Why has it taken some of you so long.

Be sure to check out my new poll on my profile!

Also make sure to check out "Elsa in Wonderland" by my good friend The Clockwork Fawn! I helped her a bit with the plot, and I'm really excited to see where she decides to take it! She's a really great writer, seriously!

Jump Into the Fog

Chapter 21

"Your body is a weapon, love, and it rips me up inside."

Elsa screamed for help until her throat went hoarse and even then, no avail. No one could hear her despite how hard she tried to gain someone's attention—but then, what could they do? There was so much ice that there would be nothing strong enough to penetrate it in time to help Anna. And then… what would she do?

It was hopeless.

She sobbed until there were no tears left, and alone in her thoughts, all she could fathom was just how much she'd failed Anna in trusting Hans, in giving him just what he wanted all because he'd showered her with sweet words and assurances, made her feel happy to have her powers, for once.

Staring at the heavy diamond ring on her finger at sundown, though, Elsa finally started to see more. Yes, Hans had indeed betrayed her all in the name of attaining his goal, in running his own kingdom with the most powerful woman at his side. Yes, she'd allowed Hans to corrupt her and mold her… but had it all been negative?

Despite what he intended for Anna, was there indeed any redeemable good inside him?

Yes, she realized as she remembered the look of pure happiness she'd seen on his face when Hans slid this ring on her finger. It was a symbol representing all they'd been through, good and bad.

There had been his mad assumption that she was pregnant, his near absence, his ugly true colors showing… All reprehensible, all things for which Elsa would never forgive him. He deserved punishment, probably deserved to rot for it.

But them, there had been the marital bliss. There had been those moments where Elsa would look at Hans in the mornings as light streamed into their room and she would gently brush his hair back, making his green eyes crinkle in happiness. There were moments when he would take her hand and she would immediately calm down. There were looks of understanding in their eyes, looks only they could comprehend.

Moments where they were the only two people in the world.

Hans may have told Elsa that he was the best thing that ever happened to her. And, to an extent, he was right.

But what he didn't mention, and what she could tell, was that he needed her as well. After all, if Hans really didn't want her, he would have slain her on the fjord a year ago. He would have let Elsa kill the Duke of Weselton's men. He would have taken mistresses. He would have struck her when she told him she was not with child. He still wanted their marriage to work, crazy as his scheme was to get rid of Anna.

He wasn't entirely right. But he was a good fit for the kingdom, with how much he cared about the people.

And, in the end, a good fit for her. She would just have to exercise her own authority, for once, for she was the Snow Queen. A terrible title, fit for a marriage with a slightly ruthless Prince.

He was not entirely evil, as Anna suggested. But he was not entirely good, either, as she had first perceived.

Still, though, he needed to be stopped.

And then, very faintly, she heard a higher pitched battle cry from outside her balcony window, through the layers and layers of ice she had built in her fear. Elsa knew that voice, just as she had known the knock Olaf had used when he'd delivered that letter.

Anna was here. And, from the sound of it, she didn't seem as sweet as usual. She had a purpose, and a need for vengeance, that's what her scream signified.

Elsa had to get down there; she had to interfere.

But… how would she do so when she was trapped in here…?

"I didn't imagine you to be the type to best all of Arendelle's finest guards," Hans remarked, his tone regal, yet even he couldn't hide that he was impressed, Anna noted. "It seems maybe you and your ice man will be formidable foes."

"More than that," Anna quipped back, her knuckles turning white around her swords. "Before all this is over, Elsa will see you for who you truly are."

"Elsa isn't going to be much of a problem," Hans replied coolly. "She's already proved how pathetic she is by trapping herself in her own chambers."

"What cruel words about your wife, Your Highness," Anna sneered, perched for attack.

"She'll forgive me soon enough. You, though… I wasn't expecting this. Have you seen your grave marker yet, I wonder?" He smirked, and Anna took a warning step forward. "It's rather beautiful—quite fit for a Princess."

"Haven't had the time," Anna replied through clenched teeth. "I'm not here for pleasantries, Hans. I thought you could see that."

Again, that damn smirk. "I just thought I'd make some small talk before I killed you."

"Funny," she started, charging toward him at full speed, "I was doing the same thing…!"

Their swords clashed.

Think, Elsa. Think. Thawing the ice in here couldn't be the only solution, could it?

She paced the little space she had in the room, trying to devise some sort of plan as the faint sound of clashing swords made its way up to her ears. They had already started to fight; how did Anna even make it this far…?

Everything baffled her, and it all felt like too much, way too much to take in.

One problem at a time.

The first: getting out of these trapped chambers by any means necessary.

Think.

What did she do when she felt powerful, when she had her palace on the North Mountain and she could actually create and control? How did it feel to make her snow monster, to make Olaf?

How did it feel to almost kill two men?

She started to feel it in her fingertips, a small icy tingling that told Elsa she had all she needed, now it was time to get used to it. She felt angry and scared and sympathetic and knowledgeable. Powerful.

Like a Queen.

Queen of Arendelle; Queen of the ice and snow; wielder of the cold and stormy and uncontrollable; powerful, magical creature whom cold never bothered.

If she couldn't thaw the ice right now, she could create enough to push, to break, to free herself. She could create more ice—pressure the rest to crack and break, and it didn't matter if she burst through a broken door or wall. Anna needed her. Hans needed her.

"Here goes everything," she murmured to herself, holding her hands before her and summoning all her emotions into her powers.

A strong burst of ice shot from her fingertips, and finally—finally —the trap she'd put herself in started to break.

How? How could Hans defend every unpredictable move she made, every blow with her two swords and Kristoff's pickaxe? He moved too fast, too swiftly; he always narrowly missed Anna and knocked her down.

He kicked her into the snow again and she barely rolled away a hair as his sword came down on her. She sprang up, panting a moment before she tried to strike him again with another cry, her frustration only growing. They were all bruised and battered and tired, but the battle was far from over.

Anna swung left, veered right, struck high and low, but no avail. No blood shed. No pain for this ruthless King. Her frustrations only made her most focused, more bloodthirsty for her revenge. It was starting to be less about Elsa, more about her own need to rid the world of such a terrible man.

Red hot, that's all it was. Sweat poured around Anna's face in anger, passion, and exhaustion, but she couldn't stop attacking. The white, calming snow seemed inviting in such a powdery state, but Anna thought of it as a reward once it was over, and she could collapse and cool down.

Again and again her swords clashed with Hans', her teeth bared in a snarl and her brows creased in a permanent frown. She could only make battle cries, growls and yells and curses. Hans smirked and attacked this time, almost throwing Anna off balance.

"What an animalistic way for a Princess to act!" he mocked, pushing Kristoff aside as he strode back toward Anna. "You really do underestimate just what I'm willing to do."

Before she could to react, Hans kicked the sword out of Anna's left hand across the courtyard, and before she could rush toward it, Hans swung and created a deep gash in her newly freed arm. Anna shouted out and almost dropped her other sword, but she couldn't risk it…! She staggered back, handle of her one sword and right hand clutching her new wound, knowing that this couldn't mean she could give up. She wouldn't.

Kristoff attacked instead of defended for once, trying to make a break for Anna's disarmed sword with no success, since Hans was keeping him rather preoccupied.

Quickly Anna knelt down and picked up snow after setting her sword down momentarily. It hurt to feel such a contrast between the coldness of the ice and the radiating heat from her boiling, spilling blood, but she didn't have time to hurt, not when Hans was still moving.

She kept the snow on her gash until it melted, and even then she continued to throw ice on her wound until she was numb for now. It could be taken care of later.

Slowly, when she felt ready to fight again, Anna picked up her sword with her right hand and stalked toward Hans, a new anger boiling up within her.

Almost there, almost there…! Elsa struggled to make this new ice stronger than the fear she'd felt to put herself in this situation in the first place. Each new crack in the ice was a huge struggle, but she refused to give in—refused to let the battle Anna and Hans were righting to have the outcome they were both hoping for. Since when had diplomacy died…? When Hans found her on the fjord? When Anna had lived away from home for a year?

When Elsa had given herself over to her husband to help her with her duties because she was too fearful?

The door was locked—she didn't mind tearing it down, not for this cause. She didn't care, at the moment, that her parents had used it; she needed to get to the courtyard now.

She finally broke through.

As soon as Elsa made her way through, however, there were guards blocking the hallway, no doubt pleased by Hans strategically so she would not escape. She stilled, unsure of what to do. She, like Hans, was also their ruler.

Strange how she had to keep reminding herself that.

"Your Majesty! You're not allowed to be out of your chambers!" one announced, and while Elsa knew he was just under orders, just doing his job, he wouldn't relent, nor would anyone else.

So she quickly shot out a burst of ice from her hands, freezing the soles of his boots to the ground.

"I'm sorry!" she called, hurrying down toward the courtyard, her skirts and cape practically flying behind her.

Anyone else Elsa encountered she did the same, pinning boots to the ground and coats to the wall with her powers, scurrying along with quick apologies. The last thing she wanted to do was fight anyone—her goal this whole time had been to find a peaceful route. She had to hope that there was still a light at the end of the cave. She had to believe this could still end fine.

Not perfect, given what Hans had done and what Anna had been through. But fine. It was all Elsa deserved, and now she knew—there was no such thing as perfection.

There was only happiness.

She had to hold out hope that she could still have that. That hope was all she had right now.

And, hopefully, all she would need to end this.

That last obstacle, just before she reached the courtyard, was Gerda, of all people. The old maid threw herself in between Elsa and the door, and the Queen could not bring herself to push her aside.

"My Lady, please," she begged, and Elsa, so moved by this act, felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. "Please, there will be another way…! You must keep yourself out of such danger!"

She didn't know. She didn't know Anna was out there, fighting the battle of her life. Gerda, bless her heart, only had Elsa's best interests in mind, only wanted to keep her safe.

And Elsa knew what she had to do.

It broke her heart, but she held her hands out, her powers pinning Gerda's skirts against another wall. Elsa shed tears for her, sensing all the hurt in the old woman's eyes.

"I'm so sorry." Her voice was but a whisper, and Elsa dashed out of the palace.

Unbeknownst to Anna as Elsa made her way out of her quarters, the Princess held her one sword and injured arm, her new hatred fueling something inside her that gave her the power to fight. Hans may have smirked when Anna first tried to strike him again, but soon his face stilled, concentrated as Anna would not relent.

"You seem to have a death wish, Princess," he snarled, and it did not convince Anna at all that he had the same confidence as he did at the beginning of this battle.

"The only one here with a death wish is you!" she exclaimed, moving swiftly, on the prowl as Hans could only defend or be taken down.

She had him. And she was so close.

Kristoff had dashed to grab Anna's abandoned sword, picking it up with every intention to join the battle again—but they were moving so fast, and Anna was starting to prevail, to win. All Hans could do was defend himself against the bloodthirsty Princess as she swung over and over and over, her need to see red only growing.

Each time their swords clashed was a release of anger, frustration, hatred. Anna could only think in a one-note manner, with only one goal in mind, more so than before. She did not regard her sister, forgot she even had one in this moment.

All she wanted was revenge.

He'd hurt her, humiliated her, left her to die, and he deserved his comeuppance.

She kicked him in the gut, knocking him down. Before he could get up, she booted his sword out of his hand and out of his reach. It slid across the snow from the force of her heel.

Here she was, superior. And she was going through with it, with her—Princess Anna of Arendelle—ending the dastardly former Prince Hans of the Southern Isles.

Kristoff was sprinting across to stop her—not that she noticed—but he would be too late.

With a mighty cry, Anna swung her sword down right toward Hans' heart.

If he'd had one to destroy.

Since cold did not bother her, Elsa did not need to adjust to the change in temperature outside as she ran out into the courtyard as fast as her heels could take her. She noticed two figures fighting in the distance with swords, a third too far for her to really make out.

But upon closer inspection, Elsa's heart clenched at the first sight of Anna in a year—hair pin straight and streaming around her as she turned, a blur of red and black with dark bags under cold blue eyes. She almost paused at the sickening sight of blood on her arm—this had gotten so grave, so fast.

Elsa did not know her sister could wield a sword like that. And that angered her, for she noticed that she was not losing as Elsa feared.

No, Anna had the upper hand, her husband only barely able to defend himself against her maddened sister.

Anna had not wanted to end this peacefully, like Elsa wanted.

Anna wanted cold, unsatisfying revenge.

She was in the wrong.

As was Hans, for resorting to such violence. But here he was, helpless to the savage Princess.

And something inside Elsa snapped.

As she dashed toward her husband and her sister, she felt fear for Hans—for him losing, for not having him anymore. She needed him. He needed her. And she wanted him, mind and body and soul. She owed everything to him, and he owed it all to her. There was no one without the other.

Her heart pounded so erratically as she sprinted toward Hans and Anna as Anna knocked him down and threw his sword away, rendering him defenseless. Time slowed as she saw the true fear in Hans' eyes toward her sister as she quickly raised her sword above her head in a battle cry, not recognizing Elsa putting everything she had in trying to stop this before it got too ugly. The last figure—Kristoff, Elsa soon realized—was too far away to do anything in time.

It was up to her, to save Hans, to save Anna.

To save herself from this cage she'd put herself in, both physically and emotionally.

"NO!" Elsa screamed, throwing herself between Anna's sword and Hans, her hands raised in what she hoped was the nick of time.

HA, seewhatIdidthere—

If you didn't, go back and watch the climax of Frozen again. Bad readers.

I'm a terrible person. :D But everything I've written so far has been pretty much on point to where I've wanted to take the fic, and the end of this chapter is no exception. Live with it.

Reviews, as always, are very appreciated! Seriously, I want to hear your views on this chapter.

Remember to check out my new poll! We're almost at the end!

Next Chapter: The final battle leaves the two sisters at different points. One will realize just what her path in life is meant to be, while the other is blinded by a fork in the road, a fogged one that leaves her feeling uneasy.

Till then!

~Eliza