A/N: I split this next chapter into two, so here's the first half. The second one will be up shortly.
The cold wrapped itself so quickly around her she hadn't any time to notice it. All light was snuffed, and everything grew dark and cold.
But consciousness did not leave her so quickly. She blinked. She was standing in a huge, dark room. She could not make out any details in the walls or floor; all was perfectly pitch-black. And yet, she could see her hands, and arms, and her own body clear as day. She was alone in a void.
"Is anyone there?" she called, but there was no answer.
Something appeared an indeterminate distance away. It looked to be about the size of a snowball, and was colored like one, too. Anna started walking towards it, and as she neared, it grew in size. When she was close, it towered above her. Its surface was not smooth, but uneven and sharp, like a roughly hewn block of ice.
Anna looked at the block dubiously. She looked all around. Left, right – or, what she could be reasonably sure substituted for left and right in here. Up, down – same thing. But there was nothing else.
Anna turned back to the block. "I don't suppose you talk, do you?"
It did not respond, but it did slightly change its hue, as though her voice had lifted a response out of it. The opaque whiteness of its surface began to fade away, slowly being replaced by a transparent sheen with a blue tint. It became like a gigantic crystal, and within, Anna could make out the shapes of someone moving around, walking or pacing.
Anna's heart jumped to see that it was Elsa, pacing around and around in the same circle, again and again. And she was speaking, talking to herself, saying the same things, over and over:
"She's safe, now; she's safe, now; she's safe, now…"
The expression on her face was blank, emotionless. She spoke in a quick, low voice, and her pace never changed. It was almost hypnotic, entrancing, and Anna stared at her for a long time. Through the crystal, Elsa's voice echoed ominously – but even not accounting for that, something was wrong with her, Anna knew. Elsa continued in the same loop, unchanging, and Anna found that she couldn't keep quiet anymore.
"Elsa?" she whispered.
Then Elsa stopped quite suddenly, freezing midsentence. "She's safe, n–" She blinked.
"What?" she looked around wildly. For a fleeting instant, her eyes crossed Anna's, but they moved on just as quickly. She must not have been able to see her.
Again, Anna spoke. "Elsa?"
Elsa stood straight up, shoulders tense and hands curled into fists. "No, no." She shook her head with a humorless chuckle. "Anna can't be here, she's safe. Away from me…"
The crystal started to redden, streaks of crimson running across its surface like trails of blood. And then a voice spoke out of the darkness, a rumble that rattled Anna's bones.
"She is safe," said the voice deeply. "You cannot hurt her, just as you wished."
Just as she wished?
Elsa wrung her hands together as she continued to look all around. "But I… I thought I heard her voice," she said quietly.
"Simply your imagination," insisted the voice in an airy tone. "All is as you would have it. Your sister is safe from you, and the kingdom is in good hands."
It had been a mistake to say that much. Something in the way the crystal shimmered told Anna that. Elsa stopped wringing her hands. Slowly, they fell to her side, and she looked up with a curved brow.
"Good hands?" repeated Elsa. "You mean Anna's, don't you? My sister? She is the heiress."
"Of… course, that is what I meant," said the voice.
But Elsa did not look convinced. She looked down again, brow furrowed. "Ah, but… how could anyone know that Anna is the heiress? I neglected to tell her. Before I…" She shuddered and closed her eyes. "Before I defiled her, before I hurt her…"
"Yes," said the voice quickly. "Yes, do not think about it. Just remember that she is safe, now. That is all that matters."
Elsa nodded a tiny, fractional amount. "Yes," she repeated monotonously, her eyelids drooping. "She is safe, n–"
Something was definitely wrong, here. It was like Elsa was stuck in a trance. With a running start, Anna gave a terrific leap and threw herself against the crystal, banging on the transparent surface with her fists. Each blow sent tremors thundering across the surface of the crystal, shaking it visibly.
"ELSA!" she screamed. "ELSAAAA!"
Elsa's head snapped up. Her eyes widened with horrified shock as she noticed Anna. "Anna…?"
"He's lying to you!" shouted Anna. "He's lying to you! Don't listen to him! You can stop this!"
An awful boom echoed through the void, and the voice spoke out like a grinding avalanche. "It's you."
Anna banged the crystal again. A tiny crack appeared in the surface. "Elsa! I'm coming!"
Elsa continued to gape. "Anna?" she whispered, her voice high and quiet.
A sudden force hit Anna like an immense wave. It sent her reeling, spinning, churning through the dark waves of the void. She plunged into black, icy water, and everything became still.
Wind whistled through the needled branches of the evergreen canopy above. From a gnarled hole in a tall, old tree, a squirrel poked out its head and looked all around. Everything was as it usually was, which is to say it was white and dead. The trees were still covered in that deathly pale blanket of ice, and whatever nourishment they and their shorter, softer brethren once provided was plucked clean or hidden from a land that could not sustain itself. Everything was choking on the cold.
The squirrel wrinkled its nose. "That is very fine," it thought, sarcastically, to itself. "Yet another day the winter will not abate! That marks too many for me to count." It was not enthused with the prospect of relaying this information back to its friends. It knew they would demand a second opinion, and it knew they would send him out again. He was the strongest, though not the youngest, of the small colony of squirrels that inhabited this old tree, and his name was Lymyrtyn. The tree, also, was clearly put-off to be attending them. And once in awhile, back before the Long Cold, the Tree-walkers would come down from the north and, with their strange salves and odd music, relax the tree again. But neither had the tree seen any of them since the Long Cold had begun, and it was very grumpy for it.
They had all felt the death of the wolf. Old Woman Nyssyfyne said that was the end of it. She had the bushiest tail and the wiliest whiskers of any squirrel in the colony, and was constantly complaining.
"I knew when our queen was killed, the forest would soon follow," Nyssyfyne would often say. "I said that when she died, we would be cursed with a blizzard. But did anyone listen to me? No-o, they did not!"
"Truly," thought Lymyrtyn bitterly, as he stood now in the midst of that blizzard, "Nyssyfyne is a gifted master of the arcane art of post-cognition."
Gingerly, Lymyrtyn proceeded out into the cold, sniffing about for any hint of news, or really any hint of anything. Even a predatory hawk would be a welcome sight. It would mean they were finding living things, after all – even if those things were soon to be rendered dead by their claws, it altogether boded well if things ended up getting killed by hawks rather than the sheer cold.
To Lymyrtyn's great surprise, it wasn't snowing that day. Curiosity prodded him to the end of the branch he was on, and with a coiled leap, he jumped to another branch, about a foot away. This one belonged to another tree. He scurried on, and sniffed again. Still, nothing. Sighing, and silently cursing his colony, he continued on. He'd probably die of cold out here, searching, fruitlessly, for the hope of the colony. He'd die of cold and nobody would ever know, and they'd send out another squirrel in his stead. They might even come across his body. "Damn pity," they'd say. "What, him dying?" "No, that he didn't report back to us."
He jumped from branch to branch and got to the trunk. He circled around and went out to the end of a branch on the other side. What a waste of time this was. He sniffed again.
He froze.
His nose wrinkled. Not the bad kind of wrinkle.
Frowning with disbelief, he looked around, curiously. It was coming from the other side of that big pine. He hated running about in pine trees, but sometimes there was no aid for it. He jumped, and scurried through the needles, coming out on the other end.
His branch was some twenty feet above a remarkable clearing. It was not remarkable for being a clearing – those were quite common, actually, and notable as a place you never wanted to be for lack of friendly trees to climb up – but for what was in the clearing. Where the rest of the forest was covered in snow, here, it was as though the snow had melted, and in its place was frosty, dewed grass, green as you please – green as he remembered.
It was remarkable for another reason, as well: in the center of it lay a human girl, prone and fast asleep.
This was puzzling for an enormous number of reasons which it would be tedious to recount here. Suffice to say Lymyrtyn had no idea what to make of this. He sniffed, then did a double-take. Did she…?
He leaned over the edge of the branch and peered. Yes, it was a human girl, all right. As humans went, she was a short one. He couldn't guess the age – that was more Ymyltyr's specialty – but she was probably an adolescent. One of her hands was wrapped around the grip of a long sword. That figured – humans were always carrying swords or other things like that. She had hair like those red flowers that humans were always conjuring out of wood, and she was wearing woven plant-skin the color of the grass all around her. But most importantly – and Lymyrtyn had gotten quite good at noticing this – she was breathing.
Lymyrtyn sniffed again. There was no doubt. He turned tail and dashed back in the direction of the old tree. His tiny heart hammered with excitement.
The girl had smelled like spring.
Feeling came first to the tips of Anna's fingers and toes. She grunted softly. She felt very tired, as though she was waking up from a long nap, and did not want to stand up or really do anything just yet. A bitter wind tickled her nose and face with such an odd insistence that it felt like it was actually trying to wake her up.
The impulse was strong to wave it off. "Five more minutes," she thought groggily. "I don't want to wake up."
That's when it hit her. She was awake. Awake.
She forced her eyes open. The sky was a chilly gray. Beautiful. The fringes of pine needles touched the edge of her vision and framed the clouds above. They were moving quickly. The wind was strong.
She took a breath. Strong, sharp air cut her nostrils. She was awake.
She sat up, and that's when she realized the sword in her hand. She recoiled from it, momentarily, as she looked at it in bewilderment. There it was with its ocean-blue hilt and its sky-blue steel. A magic sword, even to look at it. Slowly, she reached for it again, and wrapped her fingers around the grip. It felt good to hold. Wintersbane. The memories flooded back to her. Asleep, yes, she had been asleep – they had warned her about that.
A start jolted her. How long had she been asleep? She looked around for any clue, but there were none to be found in… wherever she was. A forest? Yes – a forest. It reminded her of home in winter. Her old home, the forest she had grown up in.
She got to her feet. The movement upset one of her braids, and she caught it in the corner of her vision. It was red – her hair was red, not white. And she felt good. Strong.
They had bought her time, though at cost of the same.
"Thank you," said Anna uneasily, looking at her sword and the clearing. She was standing in grass. "Um. If you guys can hear me… er, how long have I been asleep?" She paused, and looked around a little more. "For that matter, how did I get here?"
There was no response. The sword was dormant. She sighed, and checked her belongings: they were all secure, except for her shield. A brief moment of panic stung her. Where was her shield? She tried to remember, but couldn't recall ever retrieving it after she had been thrown in the dungeon.
She noticed the flute, and an idea came to her. She ripped it off her belt. It was cold and covered in frost. She brushed it off and tested the sound. When she was satisfied, she closed her eyes and tried to remember his song.
Kaepora Gaebora's song. That strange, little tune.
She wrapped her lips around the mouthpiece and blew. After the last note was played, she dropped the flute and looked skyward.
Sure enough, mere moments later, a black speck appeared in the sky. It swooped towards her with maddening speed, revealing itself to be a diving crow.
It alighted on a branch at the edge of the clearing.
"Anna!" it yelped. "My word, I thought that was you, though one can never be sure these days who is playing what for whom, though I must say I was reasonably sure that it was you, but I had discounted that possibility on account of it having been so long and everyone being so sure and all that you were dead – "
"Kaepora," said Anna, a bemused smile tugging the corner of her lips. It was so good to see him, she didn't have the words for it. "Slow down, please."
"Ehm," said Kaepora, blinking his beady eyes, "right. Yes. Sorry about that. You know how I can get. Yes, well, enough of that – Anna! Goodness gracious, where have you been?"
He stopped, actually stopped talking, and looked at her expectantly. "I've been asleep," said Anna.
"Asleep?" cried Kaepora. "All this time? Now, I've heard of needing an hour or two for beauty sleep, but months?"
That was exactly what Anna did not want to hear. "Kaepora," she interrupted carefully, "how long has it been, exactly? What's the date?"
"Well," said Kaepora, ruffling his feathers, "the last anyone had heard of you was the turn of August, last year. Martin said the official word was that you were in the custody of the Lord Regent, but rumors began to spread that you had escaped. When nobody had heard anything for months, we all assumed that you had been… executed."
Anna's heart sank. "And the date?"
Kaepora shuffled on his perch. "About a fortnight out from Midsummer's Day."
Midsummer's Day. That meant it was mid-June. And that meant that she had been gone for nearly eleven months.
"I've been gone for a year," said Anna quietly.
"More or less," confirmed Kaepora. "And you said you were… sleeping?"
Anna did not answer. Her mind was racing with too many other things. "A year," she repeated, hollowly. A lot could happen, in a year. Anna knew that better than most. And what had happened to the country, in that time? To everyone? To the castle, to Elsa?
"Kaepora," said Anna suddenly, "what happened while I was gone? Is Elsa still alive? Is she still in the castle? Do you know?"
Kaepora shuffled uncomfortably. "We don't know anything about your queen or what goes on in the castle," said Kaepora. "For all we know, she has also perished. All we know for sure is dark clouds continue to gather above the Arenborg, and an endless winter continues to reign over all."
"An endless winter…?" repeated Anna. Suddenly, like a rush of fire in her veins, a maddening realization surged through Anna. "An endless winter!" she shouted, overjoyed. "Do you know what that means?"
"Erm," said Kaepora, wincing at the outburst, "that we're all going to die?"
"No!" said Anna. "That she's alive! Elsa's still alive!"
Kaepora twisted his head, giving Anna a shrewd look with his beady eyes. "Wait one minute, you're not saying that Elsa is the cause of this winter… are you?"
"No!" said Anna, again, then she shook her head. "Well, yes, technically she is – but it's not her fault. She's been tricked: she's Lord Hans's prisoner. But so long as the winter goes on, she is still alive. Don't you see? There's still hope!" With that, she brandished her sword, and gave it a practice swing. It felt light in her hands, and the steel was so sharp it whistled through the air. "That means all I have to do is go to the castle and kill Hans and free Elsa, and – "
"Woah, there!" said Kaepora, flapping his wings. "You can't just march into the Arenborg all willy-nilly! The Lord Regent is Lord Regent for a reason, you know! He has all the authority of the realm at his beck and call!"
Anna looked at the crow as the words sank in. She felt somewhat deflated. "Right," she said. "Right. So…" She bit her lower lip as she pondered. "I'll need to think of another plan."
"You'll need allies," said Kaepora. "People who can help you bring down the Lord Regent. Others who resist his rule."
Anna lowered her chin and pondered. "Like who?" She thought for a moment. "The… Valkyrie? Is she still alive?"
In slow motion, the crow nodded.
Anna nodded as well. "Then I need to find her, join forces; I'm sure, between us, we can find some way to get past the Lord Regent's defenses."
"Not so fast," said Kaepora, holding up a wing. "The Valkyrie is still alive, but it has been a long time since the start of her rebellion, and she is but one of the Jarls of the realm. Many lords that would have joined her rebellion are helpless so long as they and their loved ones remain the hostages of Lord Brendan Burrows."
"That's right," said Anna, remembering. "I remember, before he left, Martin told me something about Brendan locking up the guests of a gathering he had hosted."
Kaepora squawked in affirmation. "Indeed! It was meant to be a meeting of Arendelle's lords, but it was a ploy to gather them in one place. Lord Morning and Lord Hugoss's sons were foremost among them. Now the House of Morning is in the control of his Lordship's younger brother, and Lord Hugoss dare not act while his sons are in danger. After the Lord of Eastgreen died, with no viable heir under the vassalage of Arendelle, Lord Hans assumed it as part of the Royal Demesne. You better believe that Weselton didn't like that, so Lord Hans had the old duke executed – he was still locked up in the Arenborg, after all." Kaepora fluttered his wings and jumped on his branch. "War and strife all across the kingdom, and this never-ending winter to boot! They mutter and call it the end-times, though Martin lets no such talk fly in his company."
Anna nodded absently, thinking on the crow's words. "Wait a minute," she looked up suddenly. "Did you mention… Martin? You said his name before, too. How do you –"
"…know Martin?" interrupted Kaepora. He squawked with laughter, a loud, popping noise that would have rattled the leaves if there were any on the trees to hear it. "He's my friend."
Anna continued to stare, utterly bewildered. "Since when are you and Martin friends?"
"It's a funny story," said Kaepora. "Do you recall that time you summoned me to your window? Well, after I had left, I was flying low over the battlements – and suddenly an arrow shot out and nicked my wing. I went down, and I was terribly surprised to see a boy – a boy! – was my vanquisher. I pleaded for my life, and he was terribly shocked that I could talk, and, well, the rest is history." He hopped on the branch. "I've been his aide and courier ever since. I wonder that he never told you about me? Ah, well."
Anna's heart pounded furiously. Martin, of course – he had escaped with a small band. It wasn't much, but it was something. "Kaepora," she said urgently, "where is Martin, now? What is he doing? Is he safe?"
Kaepora gave Anna a shrewd look. "Unfortunately, I cannot tell you where he is," he said. "That information is not mine to give away. But I can tell you who he is with: the Valkyrie, and your friend, the little green-haired witch. They have been on the run. I act as their spy and informant, flying about the kingdom and seeing what goes on." He twisted his head. "I wonder what I should tell them about you?"
Anna looked down. This was wonderful news. A flame kindled in her chest and roared with sincere vigor. Hope. She had hope. And she had a plan.
She gripped the hilt of her sword tightly. "Kaepora, where am I?"
"Where are you? In a clearing in the middle of the Rockwoods."
Anna nodded. Somehow, that sounded right. "Tell them that I am going back to Burrowstown," she said slowly. "Tell them I need their help."
"All right," said Kaepora. "You need their help – and who shall I say are you? The rogue knight? The lady protector? The third one-third of a triumvirate? Who are you?"
Who are you? The question hit with surprising hardness. Her heart was beating so soundly that it filled her throat. Voices swam in her head. "I am Anna, Sword of Autumn." "Ser Anna, Knight of Crystalwater." "Ser Anna, the Lady Protector." "The Green Devil." "A whirlwind of steel and blade."
"You're the best younger sister a girl could ask for."
And that's when it hit her, with enough force that it took her breath away. The best younger sister a girl could ask for. She was Elsa's sister. She was a princess of Arendelle. She was royalty. The revelation filled her with sudden anxiety. What did she know about being a princess? Who would look at her – at her – and think "princess?" And who would even believe such an outlandish claim? It burned her to think of it. No, she could not say she was a princess. For that matter, every answer now seemed absurd, fake, and beneath all of it was the uncertainty.
She looked at Kaepora and gave a half-hearted shrug. "Tell them 'Anna'," she said softly. "Just 'Anna'."
Kaepora stared at her, head cocked slightly to the side. He was quiet for a long time until, finally, he spoke, in a low, smoky voice. "You smell like spring," he said softly. "Look to our coming when the wind rises." And with that, he alighted off the branch and flew away into the gray, murky sky.
Anna watched him go. When time enough had passed, she shut her eyes tight and shook her head. Who are you? It disturbed her to think she couldn't answer that question. She remembered a time when she'd have proudly said "Anna!" or "Ser Anna!" The titles she had been given; the names she invented for herself. How she had reveled in them, too. The Sword of Autumn – had she really said that? It seemed so long ago. And now she was a princess, a title of utmost respect, of the highest prestige – and yet, for some reason, it disquieted her more than it gave her pride.
No. This was not the time to think on such things. She had work to do. Elsa.
The very thought was enough. She smiled, eyes still shut tight. She found herself thinking about that time at the lagoon. Warmth flooded through her again. She opened her eyes, hefted her sword, and sheathed it behind her like a great sword. Elsa. With not a second look back, Anna ventured forth into the frosty woods.
It was not storming, though it was clear that was but a small reprieve for the forest. Icicles as thick as arms dangled from sour gray branches. Thickets of evergreens offered the only color, and even they seemed weary and hard-put by the weather. Still, something had changed. Anna dared to imagine the trees stirred at her approach, and stretched at her departure, in the meantime whispering amongst themselves. Anna knew this forest. She had grown up in it. It was not dead, not yet – it was too tough for that.
Anna wasn't sure exactly where she was going. So far, "ahead" had seemed right, felt right. It was a strange feeling: she had no bearings, but on some level, in some way she could not describe, she knew that the path ahead was the path to go.
It was a short while after that she came upon a trail through the forest. It was a dirt road, and would have been obvious as such were it not for the thick carpet of snow that lay over it. It was narrow, but not so narrow that a cart could not travel it comfortably. A cart, or a sled. She looked more closely and saw fresh-laid tracks – the footprints of a beast of burden, and the rails of the sled it had pulled.
Anna immediately thought of Sven and Kristoff. The last time she saw them…
She turned her head to look down the west side of the path. It snaked off into the woods. It was a safe bet that that way lie Burrowstown. She took in an unsteady breath. She hoped that Kristoff and Anders and Oaken and Astrid were all right. She hoped.
The trail went on a long ways. It eventually curved southwards, and soon after that she noticed, further down the trail, a group of men on horseback. They were going the opposite way, and the sounds of their mounts and conversation preceded the sight of them by a fair bit.
Anna paused. There was no telling, at this distance, whether they be friend or foe. She doubted she could fight them all off – they looked about five, or six. And if she could count them, they could certainly see her.
She dashed off the side of the trail, hiding behind an old oak tree. She liberated her bow from its place on her back and notched one of Martin's iron arrows. And then, she waited in silence. Her breathing sounded very loud, but soon was overshadowed by the noise of the men.
"…now, how far do you reckon we have to go to get to the bottom of this?" said one voice.
"As far as it takes," replied another. "His Greatness don't accept no half-assed work."
"Half-assed work is all the great Lord Burrows is going to get if he keeps working me to the bone like this."
Lord Burrows' men, thought Anna. She fingered the feather on her arrow.
"Quit your belly-aching. Hey – what's that?"
The voices were much closer now, and by the sound of it, they all pulled up their mounts for a stop.
"Footprints, coming this way," said one, and Anna all but winced with exasperation. Stupid – of course she left footprints in the snow.
"They just disappear, though," said another. "You don't reckon he what left them just up and flew away, do you?"
"Just to be sure, we had better scour the area." The sounds of dismounting followed. "Fan out and look for anything suspicious."
Anna heard the clod of boots crunching through snow. It went out in all directions, though one pair was definitely growing louder. Sure enough, around the trunk of the very tree Anna was hiding behind came a man dressed heavily in fur and leather. His gaze was further out, though, into the forest. Anna held her breath – and, somehow, miraculously, he did not seem to notice her. He had a hand-axe strapped to his belt, and he continued into the woods, going right by her. When he had walked another yard away, Anna raised her bow.
She jumped out from behind the tree, another arrow already notched. She spotted two targets. One was still on his mount, another was still tending to his, tying it up to a tree by the trail. Anna raised the bow and fired. The arrow thrummed and lodged itself in the man's neck. The man on his mount reared and backed away. Anna was about to go for him, when a whistling noise from her left distracted her. She dodged, and a hand axe sailed right by the place her head had been a moment ago. It flew harmlessly past.
The man was on her, now. His eyes were wild, and he wore a rugged, iron half-helm over his rusty red hair. He lifted an axe and swung it down at her. Anna ducked and rolled to the side, dropping her bow in the snow and drawing Wintersbane. It filled her with a satisfying hum, and she clutched the grip tighter.
The man swung his axe again. He had a shield in his other hand, and his swing was wide. He was half-again as tall as she was, and probably stronger, too. She swung her sword into the man's axe, catching it in the neck and dislodging it from his grip with tremendous force. Right – her gauntlets. She moved in close and gave him a mighty kick to the pelvis. He stumbled backwards, tripping over a root to land on his back. Anna wasted no time putting her sword through his stomach.
She pulled her sword free and heard shouts. "Get her!" She whirled around to meet the blade of the man who had come up from behind, and twisted left to meet the blade of the man flanking her. A third was emerging from between two trees. And the fourth was sitting on his mount, merely watching and doing nothing else.
She bounced between the attacks of the two men at her side, backing away to get a better position. One of them seemed insistent on trying to get behind her, but as long as she kept backing away – clang – he couldn't.
The third was almost on her. That might be too much. The man was trying to flank again, and – ahah! Miraculously, his foot snarled in a root hidden beneath the snow, and he went down summarily.
The distraction in his comrade lasted a second too long. Anna moved in and slashed once, twice, three times. He collapsed, splitting blood, just as the third man charged in to replace him. He was reckless – Anna moved inside the man's attack, and impaled him on her sword.
When he had fallen too, all that remained were the man, tripped in the snow, and the man on horseback, still watching silently. Anna looked at him for a moment before turning to the fallen. He was tangled in his cloak, and hopeless. Anna put the tip of her sword at his neck.
"P-Please, my lady," he choked, "don't kill me."
"Where is Lord Burrows?"
"In – In Burrowstown, my lady. In – In his castle." He looked confused. "As he always is, m – my lady."
"And where are his prisoners?"
"Prisoners?" repeated the man, blinking.
"His hostages," said Anna, a little impatiently. "Lord Morning and the three Hugosses."
"Oh, um, they're in the fort – er, the castle. The castle dungeons, that is." He blinked. "Please, my lady, I never meant no harm, just let me go."
Anna gave him a baleful look, and then nodded slightly. She retracted her sword, strapping it to her back again, and marched over to the man still ahorse. He was dressed heavily in fur, his hands and feet wrapped in thick wool. His face was masked by a great woolen scarf.
Behind her, Anna heard the fallen man finally get to his feet. She turned and watched as he dashed into the woods, arms flailing wildly.
The man ahorse dismounted, and Anna gave him her attention again. "I'm assuming there's a reason you didn't fight with the rest," she said. Her thought – hope – was that this man was a potential ally. Though she knew it was just as likely he was another enemy, albeit one with greater discernment than his comrades.
"Of course," came a familiar voice. "I try not to fight my friends." He removed his scarf, and Anna's stomach dropped like a stone.
"Kristoff," she said softly, and tears filled her eyes. It was him, all right, and the sight of him stripped away all vestiges of hardness, and she felt nothing but the sweet and sour melancholy of seeing an old friend again. She leaped forward and embraced him in a tight hug.
"Och, Anna," grunted Kristoff, "you're choking me."
She relaxed her hold on him just a bit. But she needed a hug right now, Kristoff's comfort be damned. She pulled away with a heavy sigh. For a while, they stood and said nothing.
Kristoff looked into the woods, in the direction the man had fled. "You probably should have killed him, too."
Anna shrugged. "He asked me not to."
Kristoff snorted. "That's a handy trick. I'll keep that in mind the next time someone has their blade against my neck."
Anna looked at him sharply. "I hope that's not a situation you find yourself in, often."
She expected Kristoff to smile, to say something flippant or irreverent – but instead, he returned her sharp look with one of his own. "It's the situation living under the rule of Lord Brendan Burrows."
Anna sighed. "Right. I'm – sorry. How have you been?"
"Other than chafing under the tyranny of a spoiled noble kid?" Kristoff made a play at appearing thoughtful. "I dunno, I guess I've been all right."
Even the attempt at levity was enough to lift Anna's spirits. She smiled at him for a moment, and then turned serious. "I'm assuming you get by pretending to serve him?"
"That's right," said Kristoff. "I'm one of his scouts. I keep to myself, mostly, and I don't report directly to him. He doesn't even know who I am. Sven and I escape his gaze by hiding in plain sight."
"And where is Sven?" asked Anna.
"What, don't you recognize him?" Kristoff gestured to the furry horse he rode in on – the one with no antlers at all, but, that face…
"Good gods," breathed Anna. "It is Sven – but I just assumed he was a horse… What happened to his antlers?"
"Anna," said Kristoff in the tone of voice that suggested he expected better from her, "what happens to all reindeers' antlers in the winter?"
At this, Sven trotted up to her and gave her an affectionate prod with his muzzle. He sniffed at something. "I can't believe you guys are okay," said Anna, partly in awe. "This is fantastic news." Her spirits faltered a bit. "What about…?"
Kristoff immediately understood. "Anders and Oaken are his prisoners," he said darkly. "Same as those lords you just mentioned."
Anna nodded slightly. "And… Astrid?"
Kristoff pursed his lips. "Nobody knows what happened to Astrid. One day, she simply up and… vanished. Her cottage has been off-limits ever since."
That was not a good sign. A feeling of dread crept through her. "All right," she said, making a fist with one of her hands. "Then Anders, Oaken, and Astrid are on the list." She turned around and went to pick up her bow, which she strapped to her back.
"Erm," said Kristoff, trailing behind her. "List?"
"The list of people I need to rescue from Lord Burrows," said Anna, matter-of-factly. None of the horses had fled in the fighting, and were all milling around on the trail where their riders had left them. She probably shouldn't take any with her. One-by-one, she went to the horses and smacked them on the rear, and one-by-one, they galloped into the woods, alone.
Kristoff watched her do this with evident befuddlement. "So… if I understand you right, your plan is to just walk into Burrowstown and… free the prisoners?"
"No," said Anna, striding to one of the fallen men. She pried the wooden shield off his arm. It was painted on the front: a black wolf on a field of gray. She considered its size and weight for a moment, before she discarded it with distaste. "My plan is to sneak into Burrowstown and free the prisoners."
"And how, exactly, do you plan on sneaking into Burrowstown? It's not exactly a… a labyrinth." He gesticulated with evident exasperation. "Chances are, you're likely to be seen, no matter how sneaky you are. And you're a wanted woman, might I remind you."
That was a good point. Anna looked at the fallen men, again. "I'll take one of their cloaks and go in disguise, then."
Kristoff laid a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and was surprised to see a look of serious concern on his face. "Anna, the charges against you… they say that you kidnapped the queen, that you killed innocent people. And I just want… well, that is to say, I wanted to know…"
"If it's true?" finished Anna, suddenly feeling cold. "Do you really think I would do something like that?" She shook off his hand.
The hurt expression on Kristoff's face softened her at once. "No, of course not, Anna. And even if it was true, I, well – we're like family, you and I. And you gotta stick up for your family. It's just…" He shrugged. "I'm little more than a simple peasant. I'd like to know what I'm getting – what I've gotten into."
The longer she looked into Kristoff's big, sincere eyes, the more she felt she owed him an explanation. And she began to feel a little guilty about losing her temper. She sighed, and shook her head. "You're no more a peasant than I am," she said. "All right, here's the story."
Standing on the snowy road, Anna hastily retold the events of the prior year, including the matter of the Golden Power and Elsa's magic. Kristoff looked more awed than surprised to hear that Elsa had the magic of the old Ice Queen, and Anna knew he was already thinking about palaces made entirely of ice.
"And then, well, one day, it all got a bit out of hand," said Anna, and her tone became sheepish. She looked at the fingers on her gauntlets. "We, er, well, the queen and I were talking, and – "
"Why did you say it like that?"
"Say what?" Anna didn't look up.
"Talking. You said it talking."
"No, it's – it's just, well, the queen and I were talking privately, and – "
"Ohh," said Kristoff, drawing out the sound. Anna looked up and felt the blush blooming in her cheeks and Kristoff smiled broadly. "Oh, you dog. You and the queen?" He gave her a light rap on the shoulder.
"Shut up," Anna pushed his arm away, blushing furiously. "And anyway, it's not like that. We – we kissed, and – "
But Kristoff wasn't listening. He was laughing, now. "Oh, man, Anna. You and the queen kissed? So, you're in love, now? And now she's being held by the bad guy and you have to go save her so you can live happily ever after? Wow, Anna, I'm – this is great! Wait, so, if a queen marries a girl, are there two queens, or would you be a princess, or…?"
"Kristoff!" yelled Anna. She was on the verge of tears. All Kristoff's speculation was, well, Anna couldn't pretend it wasn't exactly what she had fantasized about, but… it ached her heart to think about it, to know the truth… "Kristoff, it's not like that. We kissed, yes, and that's when her magic…" She trailed off, and felt her head drop. "I'm dying, Kristoff."
Kristoff said nothing. She could feel him stare at her. She felt herself go on, automatically. "Her touch is deadly to me," she said quietly. "I'm cursed, and… it's not her fault, but now the kingdom is in danger because of it. Because of me. I will…" She swallowed a lump in her throat. "I will certainly die if I go back to her."
Silence. Kristoff cleared his throat. "One thing I've learned from my years being your friend is that there's probably no arguing you out of a bad idea," he said, in a rather defeated tone. "Is there?"
Anna shook her head. "It's what I must do. If not me, then who else?"
"I don't want you to die, Anna."
Anna had to shut her eyes tight. We all die, sooner or later – that's how she wanted to respond. But she knew there was little comfort in that. "Me either," she said quietly.
Kristoff sighed heavily. A gust of wind whistled in the tree branches overhead, and he looked up. "I suppose you don't know why the storm has abated here, do you?"
"What's that?"
"The storm. The big snowstorm?" Kristoff gestured to the sky, still cloudy. "Everywhere else, it's snowing like crazy – blizzarding everywhere. But just a few hours ago, the storm suddenly halted all around here. That's what we were sent out to investigate."
A tickle in Anna's mind told her what it was at once. She drew out Wintersbane carefully, and held it level in front of her. The bluish-white metal was stained with blood. "It's this," she said with confidence. "The sword of winter's end. Wintersbane, they called it."
"No," said Kristoff in disbelief. "That's not really the sword of legend, is it?"
"It is," said Anna. "This sword has the power to end this winter."
Kristoff frowned. "It did that in the legend by killing the Ice Queen."
"I will do better," promised Anna, and she felt the sword respond. She replaced it again, and looked Kristoff in the eyes. "You should go on ahead. We must not enter Burrowstown in company. We can rendezvous there."
Kristoff snapped to attention and nodded tersely. "We should meet in Astrid's cabin. That place is off-limits, so we'll be able to lie low there and come up with a strategy. I'll report back to Lord Brendan's men, say that we got, I dunno, ambushed by some bandits, and then I'll meet you there."
"Okay, then," said Anna, and she went to one of the fallen men to take his cloak. "I'll see you there."
Quickly, Kristoff went to Sven and saddled up. With a hyah, he was off down the path, Sven kicking up clots of snow behind them as they went. Anna found a large, gray woolen cloak on one of the fallen men and threw it over her shoulders. Then, she went on down the path after Kristoff, halting momentarily to say a short prayer over the fallen.
She found herself thinking, again, about what she was – about being a princess – and how she hadn't told Kristoff. He had asked for the full story: it would have been meet to say. A small part of her even found light in the idea of it. She could just imagine the look on Kristoff's face.
The smile faded from her own. She knew why she didn't say anything. She didn't want to. The thought of her being a princess still made her feel uncomfortable, absurd. Who was she, really? What was she? She pulled the edges of her cloak more tightly around her shoulders and put her head into the wind.
It was nightfall by the time she had reached the outskirts of Burrowstown, recognizable from the short hill that sat at the forest's edge. She crested the hill and looked out, astonished to see the village much-changed. There was no storm here, either, and a crescent moon peeked out from a gap in the clouds, shedding its silvery light all over land below. As she remembered, there were the clusters of cabins, and nearby, at the end of the pasture where sheep used to graze, was the lake – but the lake was frozen now, its surface as smooth and shiny in the half-moonlight as polished steel. Crooked stone watchtowers ringed the village, looming over the village like bent, hungry ravens over a field of rotting carcasses. But most significant of all was the Lord Mayor's manor that sat on the hill at the end of the city: it was a manor no more, instead now an impressive, wooden fortress with thick walls of gray timber. From a flagpole high above waved the banner of House Burrows: a black wolf on a gray field, clearly illuminated by the lantern lights that blazed out of the tower windows below.
Anna stopped in place as she took in the sight. She assumed that the prisoners were being kept in that fortress, and her heart sank to realize that it looked rather impressive. Not as impressive as the Arenborg, to be sure, but she hadn't the faintest idea how she'd break in and out without alarming the entire guard.
There was time to worry about that later: for now, she had to find Kristoff. He said they should meet at Astrid's cottage, which, Anna knew, was on the other side of the village. Ensuring her hood obscured her face, she pocketed her hands and entered the village, walking at a brisk pace.
The first place she passed by was Oaken's old cabin: it was still there, but clearly nobody lived there any more. The windows were dark and the door was chipped and looked in disrepair. Anna knew they moved out, and had set up a new life at the foot of the North Mountain, but still it made her rather sad to see the old cabin in such a state. In one sense, she felt like part of her had grown up in that cabin. She remembered the dinners she ate there, and the stories they had swapped. She lingered only for a second in front of the door before, remembering her mission, she wheeled away from it and continued down the main road.
Nobody was out at this time of night, which suited Anna rather well, but also gave her a crawling feeling of suspicion. The streets were truly deserted, but not for lack of people to walk them, evidently, as most of the village did seem occupied. Anna checked her paranoia: it was bitterly cold, and after dark. There was truly no reason for anyone to be wandering around outside. Still…
She turned a corner down a street that forked. The right fork would cut a path directly to Astrid's cabin, and the left fork went to the town square. She could see it at the end of the path, and it was, to her surprise, illuminated by a fire pit in the middle, around which about three guards were clustered. They were cradling their arms and huddling underneath thick woolen cloaks, their spears lazily leaning against their shoulders. They didn't seem interested in anything other than the fire, but still Anna tried to adopt a lower profile as she speedily walked to the right fork and out of their area of vision.
No sooner had she gone down the right fork did she hear voices coming from around a cabin to her right. She stopped dead in her tracks and strained to hear, leaning in the direction of the noise, her heart pounding. But, in fact, they didn't really seem to be talking, but… moaning.
"Oh, yes, please, like that…"
Curiosity overwhelming her, Anna went forward on tip-toes. The cabin in question was squat with a tall, slanted roof, and didn't seem to have anyone in at the moment. Anna got to the edge of the cabin and peeked around.
She saw two people, standing and locked in a fierce embrace. One of them had the other pressed up against the cabin wall, and they were kissing madly. Anna looked closer and saw they were both women, one with short, dark hair, and the other with long, curly blonde hair.
Anna watched, mesmerized, as the two women continued to kiss. She wasn't sure why, but she couldn't bring herself to look away. She felt her heart pound in her throat.
The woman with blonde hair pulled away and flipped her hair around her head, opening her eyes for just a moment. That moment was long enough: out of the corner of her gaze, she locked eyes with Anna, and jumped backwards with a yelp. The black-haired woman also opened her eyes.
"What's wrong?" she said, before she noticed Anna, and stiffened up.
"Sorry, we don't mean to be out after curfew!" said the blonde woman quickly.
Anna, her face burning, stepped out fully from behind the cabin and stared stupidly. "Um, er, what?" she said.
The blonde woman blinked, and let out an audible sigh of relief. "Oh, thank heavens, I thought you were a soldier." The two women relaxed visibly.
"I'm sorry," said Anna, blinking. "I, er, didn't mean to, ah, interrupt you, or anything…"
The dark-haired woman gave Anna a baleful stare, but the blonde woman gave a wave of her hand and laughed it off nervously. "That's okay." She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "No harm, no foul. You won't tell anyone, will you?"
Anna stared at the women. They were dressed quite warmly in scarves and thick wool coats, but still it made no sense to her why they would be… out in this weather.
"Why would I do that?" asked Anna, and another question immediately came to mind. "Why are you out here, anyway? It's terribly cold."
The blonde woman gave Anna a searching look. "Cold?" she repeated. "It's not that cold. When it was storming it got a bit chilly, but this is a fine spring day compared to what we usually get. Look!" At this, she pointed to the sky, a dark, sonorous blue, flecked with clumps of gray clouds. "It's not even snowing!"
Anna thought this was very strange, and not just because the ground was still covered in snow. "It's pretty cold weather to be" – she felt her cheeks redden – "to be kissing your girlfriend in."
The blonde woman just shrugged. "It feels okay to me. And, anyway, you must not be from around here if you don't know about the curfew."
"What curfew?"
She waved an arm vaguely. "The Lord Mayor's curfew. Nobody is allowed to wander after dark, or else…" She frowned. "We live on opposite sides of town. This is the only time we can get away, so… please don't tell anyone."
Anna looked between the two women, noting a soft, pleading look on each of their faces. It wasn't like she could tell anyone, from the sound of it: she was breaking curfew too. Still, she could easily reassure them. She gave a friendly smile. "Yeah, okay," she said quietly. She slowly backed away.
The blonde gave a wave, just as the black-haired woman snuggled up to her, shivering slightly.
"Give me a kiss," said the black-haired woman as Anna turned away. "I'm cold."
Anna left the two behind her and continued down the road, moving at a brisker pace than previously. A cold wind slapped the road, and Anna shivered and wondered how on Earth those two women could stand it. And on top of that, she was trying hard not to think about their impassioned embrace, the way they cradled one-another in their arms; and she tried not to imagine herself…
She was spared any further thinking on the matter when she came abruptly on Astrid's cabin. She blinked, surprised at herself for letting the house sneak up on her. She had walked to this place many countless times growing up. How strange it felt to her to stand outside of it, now. It looked smaller, meaner in the cold, dismal air. Slowly, Anna proceeded to the front door, and pushed it open by a crack.
"Hello?" she whispered into the dark interior. No response. She took a deep breath, pushed the door open more fully, and slipped inside, the door shutting behind her with a firm thud.