AN: Thank you as always for all your wonderful reviews and encouraging words. It makes my day so much better.


Everything was moving too slowly.

Preparing to travel to Valle, reaching Valle, setting up once there and expanding the search – it was all taking too long. The days were slipping by, and every passing minute lessened their odds of finding Anna and Elsa.

Kristoff had only known the sisters for about three months, but in that time, he found Anna had wormed her way into his heart and life in a way no one ever had before. And in Elsa, he was slowly discovering a kindred spirit. Kristoff had spent his life avoiding people because he was afraid that they would hurt him; Elsa did the same because she was afraid that she would hurt them. They had lived so differently, yet had so much in common, and had been brought together by the greatest thing either of them ever had.

Not finding them wasn't an outcome Kristoff could live with.

He had traveled with Alarik, a man of seemingly few words, up to Valle. Once there, they found Admiral Naismith, who had set up a command post at Sioaskard Fortress and had already begun to expand the search for the missing royals into the surrounding forest and mountain passes. Now that there was someone around with mountaineering experience, they would start scouting the more dangerous passes. Kristoff had wanted to bring along others from the ice harvester's guild, knowing they could cover more ground at a faster pace, but the Admiral had denied the request, worried that too much civilian involvement could cause more problems than it solved. Sending soldiers into a dangerous situation was one thing; it was something they had prepared and trained for their entire careers. If a civilian was hurt or killed while trying to retrieve the Queen and Princess, the sisters would not only never forgive themselves but would never forgive Naismith or Jogeir for allowing the opportunity for such a situation to happen at all. The Admiral also had to keep in mind that, were it leaked that Arendelle's entire line of succession was missing, the citizenry could panic, and they would only have more problems on their hands.

"No," the Admiral had told him, firmly. Kristoff was to share what knowledge he had, and the soldiers would take it from there.

Kristoff did what he could in the very limited amount of time he had to do it in. Afterwards, he set to work getting himself assigned to a scouting team. It hadn't taken much to convince Naismith, who knew they could use the manpower, and he was quickly teamed up with Captain Alarik and Rune. Since they had the best chance at finding the sisters – Kristoff with his mountaineering experience and Rune with her link to Elsa – they became the lead scouting party.

He and Alarik packed their gear and set out with the snow leopard. As everything else had been up to this point, it was slow going. Alarik didn't seem to be in the mood for conversation, which suited Kristoff just fine. He was used to the silence of the mountains. Rune provided them with a general direction to follow, though there were times she seemed unsure of where she should next move, almost like her connect to Elsa was fainter. And then there were times when Rune suddenly locked on a direction and they moved quickly to keep up with the leopard. The pace would last for a few hours, before Rune would huff in a way that sounded to Kristoff like frustration, and wander slower, unsure of where to go next.

They spent nearly a week this way, frustrated, slow-moving, and frozen through. Alarik suggested they head back to the fort to regroup and resupply, but Kristoff convinced him to go at least one more peak. Suddenly, the mountain range broke into a sprawling field, and nestled at the base of the mountains was a large camp. Rune was particularly keen to move immediately into the area, and it took some effort to convince the large cat to sit still. Thankfully she calmed, as Kristoff wasn't sure he or Alarik could actually stop her if she wanted to go. They knelt low on the cliff face, and Alarik pulled out a small spyglass to get a better look into the camp below.

Both men were eager to run into the camp and take no prisoners in their search for Anna and Elsa, but, as much as he hated it, Kristoff knew they had to wait. They needed to watch the camp and ensure this was the spot the sisters were being held, and when they had confirmation, report back to the Admiral.

Kristoff hated waiting. It felt like ants crawling under his skin.

Alarik watched the camp below through the spyglass, laying on the ground unmoving for hours. Rune paced restlessly behind them, and Kristoff idly wondered how the man could stay in one position for so long.

"There." Alarik said suddenly.

"What?"

He handed off the spyglass to Kristoff and pointed toward a spot in the camp.

Heartrate picking up, Kristoff held the spyglass to his eye and followed the man's direction. Then his heart all but stuttered within his chest. Anna. She was walking toward a small tent with a man following closely behind her. A guard, he thought, jaw clenching. They entered the tent, and he lost sight of her.

That was the confirmation they had been waiting for. This was the camp where the Anna and Elsa were.

"We have to go down there," Kristoff announced, not caring that there was a sheer cliff face and unknown number of soldiers standing between him and Anna. He just knew he needed to get to her.

Alarik pressed his lips into a thin line, clearly thinking the same. He shook his head stiffly. "We need to let the Admiral know that we found the camp. We won't get them out of their on our own."

Kristoff recoiled. "We can't leave them there," he said, throwing a hand toward the camp. "We have to do something."

Alarik dropped his hands to his hips and sighed. He looked back at the pacing snow leopard, then back to Kristoff. "I have an idea."


Elsa winced as she rolled her shoulders, trying to work out some of the soreness that had settled between them, then slumped in the saddle. She was tired – beyond tired, beyond exhausted, which was becoming a sort of theme for her waking hours over the past...she didn't even know how long it had been. The days had been blending together for a while now, making the passing time impossible to keep track of. She knew enough time had gone by for her jaw and throat to begin to heal, and for the bulk of the pain to fade into annoying soreness. Enough time had gone by for her to be riding away from her third battle with the Sirma. This one had ridden so closely on the heels of the last, she wanted nothing more than to curl into ball and sleep for the next week.

That second battle had gone better than first. Elsa had stayed her hand, refusing to make a move against Tyr for fear of what might happen to Anna if she failed. She would rather fight in a hundred battles than risk harm befalling her sister. The first battle had felt hectic as she scrambled to figure out what to do and how to help the Sirma enough to keep Tyr placated while not killing anyone. She had also been distracted with thoughts and plans of escape. That split in her attention had resulted in a half-baked plan that failed in a most disastrous way.

Spending the days after that battle and failed escape tethered to a pole in the command tent gave Elsa a lot of time to think. To consider what she could have done, maybe even what she should have done. On the battlefield, with full use of her magic, attacking Tyr directly had been an option, but she knew there was no way to guarantee a killing blow. Regardless of whether she managed to succeed, there had been the two soldiers behind her, and if they killed her, it would certainly leave Anna to the same fate. And if she had managed to kill him, there was still no guarantee that Erik wouldn't retaliate and kill Anna. There had been too many what if's and maybe's for her to seriously consider taking that route.

At the start of the next battle, when Tyr released her magic, Elsa had considered – though only briefly – channeling her power to create something like Marshmallow. When Tyr blocked her magic, the creature would still be able to attack, and would still listen to her. At least, she was fairly certain that it would still follow commands, even when her magic was blocked. She had not only quickly dismissed the thought, hating herself for even considering it. Olaf had come from a moment of longing for something she thought she couldn't have, Marshmallow had been made with the intention of protecting Anna, and Rune created with a desire to keep Alarik safe as he threw himself into the line of fire for her and Anna. Creating sentient life with the intent to kill, not matter how evil that person may be, was something Elsa couldn't bring herself to do. Even if she attempted to create something like Marshmallow solely to protect her long enough to get to Anna and get them both out, there was a strong emotional connection between herself and her creations, and Elsa was terrified exactly what her emotions in the face of war would create.

She started drifting off when her horse jerked forward suddenly, nearly knocking her off-balance. She grasped the saddle with her bound hands and glared up at the back of Tyr's head. Her horse's lead was tied to his. The last battle hadn't gone exactly to plan, and she knew he was pissed about it. Pissed at her, to be specific, but there was only so much Tyr could expect when she was working on such little rest and even less sleep.

The last two battles had occurred back-to-back, and she had immediately fallen asleep when they brought her back to the tent after the second. Even though the guards had dropped some sort of stew near her feet, she had drifted off in her usual spot, leaning against the pole with her legs bent. Elsa didn't know how long she slept, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours before she was rattled awake by a guard. The man pulled to her feet and pushed her out the tent before she even had the chance to really wake up. The group rode out no more than a few miles; one of the Sirma scouts had spotted a large company of Vindarr soldiers approaching the camp, an attempt to launch a sneak attack.

Elsa cared little about the outcome of this war beyond keeping her sister safe, but the battle was long and brutal. The Sirma had come out victorious in the end, but not everything had gone to plan. Not Tyr's plan, at least.

She had stood atop a hill overlooking the battlefield, her breath coming in quick pants as she worked her magic. Tyr stood next her, directing the battle. Elsa had covered the entire field in a thin layer of ice, which wasn't an issue for the Sirma soldiers who had learned to expect it, but the Vindarr struggled. She felt every awkward, heavy step on the ice, every impact as bodies fell, every drop of warm blood that was spilled. She struggled to ignore it all, trying to separate herself from the sensations.

She heard the unmistakable sound of cannon firing, and then whistling.

"Incoming!"

Elsa didn't know who shouted the warning, but she reacted quickly, throwing her hands up and forming a thick wall of ice between Tyr's men and the grapeshot cannonballs barreling their way. She grunted as the projectiles struck the wall, feeling each individual impact like a physical blow. Cracks splintered the wall, and she dropped her hands, allowing it to shatter. The wall had fulfilled its purpose. Their momentum stopped, the cannonballs fell harmlessly to the ground as Elsa redirected her energy toward what she hoped was the only cannon. Her power raced through the air, over the clashing soldiers and hitting the cannon with enough force to send it flying back into the Vindarr army.

A horn split the air, signaling the Vindarr retreat, the end of the battle. She released a sigh of relief; she wasn't sure she had much left in her.

"Block their retreat!"

Elsa had turned with a start, blinking hard as she forced her tired eyes to focus on Tyr. "What?"

"You heard me! Stop them!"

She looked out to the field. "They're retreating," she said to Tyr. "The battle is over. You won."

"We can't let anyone escape," Tyr said, grabbing Elsa roughly by the arm. "Now, if you want to see your sister alive and well, you'll do as you're told!" He shoved her forward, and she stumbled over the uneven ground.

Elsa swallowed uneasily. During the first two skirmishes, the Vindarr fought to the last man standing; this was the first time they had sounded the retreat. She felt sick at the thought of what Tyr was ordering her to do. There was no honor in murdering fleeing men, but the threat to her sister echoed in her head, and she was forced to shove her misgivings to the side.

She took a deep breath and pooled her fading strength, sent it into the ground with a heavy stomp. Elsa listened to the ice crackling as her magic sped through the ground, and when she was sure her ice had outrun the fleeing soldiers, she twisted her hand into a fist and snapped it upward. At the other end of the field, an icy pillar shot up from the ground. She threw her arms out to her sides and the column expanded into a wall that stretched almost half a mile in either direction.

Elsa gritted her teeth as she struggled to maintain the wall's structure against Vindarr soldiers attempting to break through. She concentrated, repairing cracks that formed as they beat desperately against it. The wall was thinner than she had intended, and she scrambled to keep it standing, absorbing each blow beating frantically against it.

She felt it when the wall cracked, a thick fissure that cut through the ice like a rip of fire, forcing splinters along the surface. Elsa did what she could to seal the fractures but maintaining such a large wall from this distance had drained her. She fell to her knees, the ice wall shattering as she hit the ground.

"No!" Tyr grabbed her arm with bruising force and jerked her back to her feet, he shook her. "Stop them!"

"I can't," Elsa replied breathlessly, her chest heaving as she struggled for breath. She fixed the man with a hard stare, refusing to back down to him despite the fact she was on the verge of passing out.

The older man growled and all but threw her into the two guards who had been standing behind her. Elsa's knees buckled but the two men caught her and held her upright.

"Useless witch," Tyr spat. "You better hope no one escapes."

Elsa returned his glare with equal intensity and forced herself to stand under her own weight as the cuffs were reactivated with a simple touch from the pendant Tyr wore. One of the guards moved quickly to bind her wrists.

Not long after that, the battle was finished, and they began the march back to camp. No one knew if any of the Vindarr soldiers had escaped, and Elsa didn't much care. Right now, the only thing she wanted was to see her sister and sleep, in that order.


Anna sat on the edge of her pallet trying fruitlessly to distract herself from the thoughts running through her head, spurred on by the fact that her sister was put once again out there fighting in a battle she shouldn't have anything to do with.

She made a fist with the hand of her bruised arm and felt only a minor pull of residual pain. She felt the guilt more strongly than any physical hurt, knowing she had allowed herself to be tricked by Erik and his brother. She was so gullible, thinking them good people, and had willfully gone against her sister's wishes – no, against her ordersand now it was Elsa who was suffering for it. Elsa who still had Tyr's wrath painted across her body in hues of molten yellow and brown that somehow looked worse than the deep blue and purple contusions from a few days ago.

It didn't seem right, or fair, that her sister, who had been smart enough to turn the Sirma away, was bearing the brunt of it while she herself had gotten off easy, with only a minor sprain. Anna dropped her hurt hand to the blankets with a sigh, and her fingers brushed against the leather-bound journal there.

Erik had brought the book by when Elsa left for that first battle. It was a small attempt at extending an olive branch, as he tried to help Anna find distractions from her overwhelming anxiety about what her sister was going through. She had taken the book and promptly thrown it at his head. She was uninterested in it, a journal, Erik told her, that had been kept by his mother years ago. Anna didn't want to read the words his mother wrote, didn't want to learn about Tyr's childhood, didn't want to be forced to think about Tyr and Erik as brothers. As human beings with faults and hopes and dreams, just like she and Elsa.

That was then, seemingly a lifetime ago. They were three battles deep into this war now. As far as Anna could tell, from the view of her sister being taken into the command tent, Elsa had come back relatively unscathed from the second battle, but only a few hours passed for her to sleep before Tyr had his goons dragging her out again into the late morning light. Anna was desperate for something to take her mind off all the things Elsa could be going through at that very moment, horrible things her mind couldn't seem to stop dredging up. She had collected the journal from where it had laid on the floor since narrowly missing Erik's head and sat down on the bed with it.

She stopped before she read a single page. It felt wrong to sit on a comparatively comfortable bed, leisurely reading, while her sister. . .

Anna sighed and dragged a hand down her face. She knew she couldn't keep going around this mental circle; she was going to drive herself mad. There was nothing for her to do at this moment to help her sister except to rest and stay strong, so Elsa wouldn't have to be.

She sat back on the bed and pulled the journal into her lap. With one more fleeting glance toward the flap of her tent, she opened the book and began to read.

At first, Anna merely glanced over the pages of the journal, her eyes skimming and barely registering words. It wasn't very exciting, containing the stories and thoughts of a young woman who was entering her teenage years. Unenthralled and feeling as though the entire exercise was rather pointless, Anna was considering setting the book aside when her gaze landed on an interesting passage. She went back to carefully read it through a second time, and then a third, to make sure she was understanding it correctly.

In the passage, Erik's mother, Eir, wrote about training to be a shaman, the word that caught her attention, though 'shaman' was a name commonly used in old cultures for healers and leaders. But as she read on, Anna realized that this was something different, that the shaman of the Sirma tribes underwent training for years before participating in some sort of ritual with the Landvættir.

Anna recognized the name immediately. Elsa had said that it was their symbol that was embedded in the stone on the cuffs. As she read further, about the details of the Landvættir, the rituals, and the role of the shamans within Sirma culture, Anna came to a startling realization.

The Sirma had magic.

At least, some of them did. They weren't born with it like Elsa had been, but their people had once made a pact with the Landvættir, who in turn gave them magic. Anna sat back, stunned by the revelation. This explained how they knew how to block Elsa's powers, but not why they needed Elsa's help in the first place, if they had access to their own magic. Furthermore, she wondered why they hadn't seen any of these shamans around the camp.

A wrinkle folded her brow, and for the first time since the Sirma had taken them prisoner, Anna found herself wanting to talk to Erik. She wanted to ask him for more details about what she had read, about the history of the Sirma.

Anna startled as the flap to her tent opened suddenly. A guard poked his head through the opening, then stepped in fully. She shot to her feet, her stomach twisting with worry. When the guard removed his helmet, her breath caught in her chest. "Kristoff?"

His wide gaze appraised her condition before a smile broke across his face and his eyes lit up with relief. "Anna—"

She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and cutting off whatever he was about to say. It didn't matter. Hot tears filled her eyes when his arms encircled her, and for a moment, Anna felt safe and secure and like, just maybe, everything was going to be okay. She buried her face in his chest, unable to hold back the tears.

She wanted to stay like that, engulfed in his embrace, forever, but Kristoff pulled back. He gripped her shoulders and ducked his head to meet her gaze. "Are you okay?"

"I've been better," Anna said honestly, sniffling. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "But I'm okay. How—what are you doing here? How did you get past the guards?"

"It's a long story," Kristoff said, with a wide grin. "One that involves mead, a wild goat, some dice, and a teddy bear."

Anna wrinkled her nose. "We don't have wild goats."

"That's what I said."

Anna shook her head, feeling confused. "I'm not sure I want to know."

"No. No, you do not." Kristoff grinned. "It's also not important. The important thing is that we found you, and now we are going to get you out of here."

"We?" Anna asked, hoping that consisted of the entire Arendellian Army.

Kristoff gestured behind him, toward the tent flap. "Alarik and a nice snow leopard named Rune, but she's currently halfway between here and Admiral Naismith."

The tent opened once more and Alarik slipped inside. He gave Anna a once-over as well, his relief showing starkly in his eyes. She couldn't help but wonder what the response would be when they saw Elsa.

"Your Highness," he said, dipping his chin. "Are you okay?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah, better now."

"Where's Queen Elsa?" Alarik asked, his gaze sweeping the small tent.

"She's not in the camp right now, but they usually keep her in the large tent across from this one." Anna bit down her lower lip as a lump formed in her throat. She wanted to keep calm but suddenly felt utterly overwhelmed again by everything that had transpired. She gripped Kristoff's sleeve. "You have to get her out of here. Tyr is insane. What he did . . . and they keep her bound, lashed to a pole like an animal. Last time I talked to her, she said she was okay, but . . ." She shook her head. "You have to get her out of here."

Kristoff held his hands up, brows drawn together. "Hold on, Anna. Slow down. Who is Tyr? What did he do to Elsa? And if she's not here, where is she?"

Anna folded her arms around herself and took a deep breath, reminding herself that she needed to be strong for just a little while longer. "Tyr is the leader of the Sirma, and he—" She heard the sound of horses just outside the tent, and her heart jumped. "Elsa," she breathed.

She ran to the entrance and pulled back the flap in time to see two guards pushing Elsa toward the command tent. Her sister was practically dangling between them, like she was having an issue keeping in step with the taller guards. Even from the distance Anna could see that her face white and her hands were once more bound.

Kristoff and Alarik stepped up behind her. One of them swore under their breath but she couldn't tell who. As she watched, Elsa disappeared into the tent and Erik emerged. He stopped in front of Tyr, who looked angry. The brothers appeared to argue, and Tyr took a step toward the tent only to be stopped by a hand on his chest. They exchanged a few more words before Tyr turned on his heel and stomped away.

Anna let the flap fall shut. "What's the plan?" she asked, wringing her hands.

Kristoff looked to Alarik then dropped his gaze, and Anna could tell this was something they weren't in agreement over. Kristoff rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to meet her eyes.

After a long moment of tense silence, Alarik finally said, "we came into camp to gather intel, and hopefully get you both out, but. . ." He hooked his finger on the tent flap and nudged it open enough to peer outside.

Anna knew what he was looking at, what caused him to hesitate. Two guards would be stationed outside the command tent, and another inside to watch Elsa. The path that ran between the two tents was often heavy with traffic, as soldiers passed by going from one place in camp to another.

"We can get you out of here without too many problems," Alarik said. "But the Queen . . . I'm not sure we could get into that tent without raising suspicion. And even if we did, there's the issue of getting her out." He looked back at Anna. "I imagine she is still wearing that cuff?"

Anna nodded, her shoulders slumping. "Two now. One on each wrist. It blocks her magic completely."

Alarik blew out a breath. "Then we have no choice but to wait for the Admiral."

"I'm not leaving Elsa behind," she said stubbornly.

"I'm not leaving you behind," Kristoff countered. "If they are using you as leverage against her, then getting you out of here might give Elsa the opportunity to resist without worrying about them hurting you."

"Resist how?" Anna demanded hotly. "They have blocked her magic completely. If I'm gone, Tyr can't use me to force her to fight. If he can't control her, he will kill her." The heaviness of her words settled in her gut like a rock, and she was forced to avert her gaze as the tears welled once more.

"Anna," Kristoff started softly.

"No," she said firmly, in a tone she'd heard her sister use many times before. It was an order. "I am not leaving my sister behind in the hands of that mad man."

Anna was sure Kristoff would have argued further, but Alarik didn't give him the chance.

"I'll stay," he said.

Anna turned toward him with wide eyes. "What?"

Alarik pressed his lips into a tight line, then nodded. "No matter what else the Sirma may be, this is a military camp. I can blend in easily with the other soldiers, maybe even gather more information, and make sure the Admiral's attack on the camp goes smoothly."

"I should stay as well," Kristoff stated.

Alarik shook his head. "I know you want to, but you can get back through the mountain passes faster than I can. The Admiral is going to need to know the layout of the camp and exactly where the Queen and Anna are being held so he can plan accordingly."

Anna put her hand on Kristoff's arm, gathering up as much courage as she could muster. She didn't want Alarik to put himself in danger again, but a very large part of her was relieved that there would be a friendly face nearby. As much as she wanted him to stay as well, she needed Kristoff to be safe. She had put enough people in danger with her brash actions. "I will be fine, Kristoff," she told him. "And the sooner Naismith gets here, the better we'll all be."

Kristoff frowned tightly, looking torn and frustrated. After a moment, his shoulders slumped, "Just. . . keep them safe."