"Don't hurt her! Please, I'll do anything!" Anna screamed. She tried to run to Elsa, but a guard grabbed her roughly by the arm. The scream sparked fear within Elsa's heart. Not fear for own life, but fear for Anna's. Elsa struggled in the grip of her own oppressors, desperate to get to her. She freed an arm and sent a wild blast of ice into one of the men grappling with her. The blow was so forceful, it sent him flying several feet into the stone wall that cracked under the intensity of the impact. The broken body slumped to the floor in a twisted heap. Blood leaked from the many places where bone protruded from skin and stained the black marble floors.
"Continue down this path and I promise you, the princess will suffer for it," the scarred man's voice filled the vast room. It wasn't a shout, it wasn't a scream, but it was loud and commanding all the same.
Elsa threw a glance in Anna's direction. The guard that grabbed Anna had a knife to her throat. Elsa stopped cold. She submitted herself to the will of the guards as they drove her to her knees.
"That's more like it," the scarred man said approvingly, "See? It's not that difficult to act civilized. Now where were we? Oh, yes," He walked over to Elsa and kneeled in front of her, looking her over with fascination. Elsa glared at him with a rage that lit up her eyes. A rage that hungered for his blood.
"I always wondered how deep the love between a pure one and their protector truly went. Could it be measured? Could it be tested? Could it be understood? All these years, and this is the moment that I have been waiting for. A test of faith."
He started stripping her of her armor, unfastening the straps of her silver breastplate with deft hands, in a calm and disturbing way. It was unsettling, and Elsa felt the need to shudder under his touch, but she dared not move. Not while Anna's safety was on the line.
The scarred man lifted the heavy breastplate off her. Elsa felt exposed without it, like a wolf without its claws. He threw the plackart to the side and stepped back, brandishing a long, gleaming dagger from his belt. The men holding Elsa dragged her to her feet, their rough hands grasping onto her tight enough to bruise, as if afraid she would turn to smoke and disappear.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Anna asked, concern weighing down her voice.
"A test of faith," the scarred man muttered, although it was more to himself than in response to the princess.
At once, a moment of great revelation dawned on Anna.
He was going to kill Elsa.
She cried out, begging him to spare Elsa's life, but her pleading fell on deaf ears. Not even Elsa heard the unceasing agony being ripped from the back of Anna's throat. All she could hear the blood rushing through her veins and the pounding of her own heart. With every beat, it threatened to explode from her chest, as if it could not wait for the knife to do the job.
Elsa looked up at the man who was about to take her life. If she was going to die, then she would do so with dignity. Their eyes met and Elsa swore she saw a flash of fear.
"Goodbye, Anna," she whispered.
The scarred man ran Elsa through with his blade as Anna's cries rang out through the hall.