AN: Hi, read, enjoy, leave a comment. Or don't. I won't tell you how to live your life.


Malthe waited until the next day before talking to the young girl, Rayna. The most important thing was to ensure the Queen's sudden recovery wasn't temporary, some sort of terminal lucidity, a rally of energy just before the patient finally let go. He'd been reluctant to sedate the young Queen for that very reason; if this was a last gasp of life, she should be allowed her last moments, but she had become so agitated that he couldn't sit by and do nothing. If it wasn't one last burst of energy, then allowing her to remain in such a state would only further endanger her already fragile health.

Once the Queen had slipped back into a more restful state, he left her be for a short time, just until Princess Anna fell asleep herself on a cot that had been brought to the room. Not that he didn't want the Princess to see the exam, but he knew the young girl was already beside herself with worry for her older sister, and would have a hard time not hovering.

He used the moment of privacy to perform an in-depth exam of the Queen's condition and was surprised to find there was no sign of an infection. The breath sounds in her left lung had also improved. Her peripheral pulse was still almost non-existent, which meant it was likely she was still experiencing the effects of blood loss, but the fact he could feel the pulse at all was another notable sign of her sudden improvement.

Malthe was cautiously optimistic about the Queen's sudden improvement, but not knowing how she had recovered left him worried and nervous, waiting for a second shoe to drop. Thanks to King Agnarr and later Queen Elsa, Malthe had the chance to travel to many countries and study medicine with different cultures. A large part of these sponsored voyages had been the King's attempt to find something that might help his daughter control her magic, or at least understand it. While Malthe had unfortunately failed to provide his King with the answers he was desperate for, the trips hadn't been fruitless. He saw a lot of things, both good and bad; he saw people make recoveries from injury and illness that shouldn't have been possible, but he had never witnessed anyone bounce back so fast, nor come back from such serious wounds.

She was nowhere near out of the woods, and it was sure to be a long road to full recovery. Knowing how stubborn the Queen could be, it was likely to be a tough road for all involved. He would hold his breath and observe the Queen as he waited for the other shoe to drop, but for now felt relieved that she was doing better, that they weren't likely to lose another monarch.

It was just over twenty-four hours since she woke up in a panic and Malthe sedated her. She had woken a few times since, each time agitated and uncomfortable, but thanks to the sedative and her sister's soft words and familiar touch, the Queen was quickly soothed. She stayed awake only long enough to take some water and sip a few spoonfuls of broth before falling back to sleep.

She had remained stable so far, and Malthe finally felt comfortable enough to step away for a few hours. He talked to Rayna, asked her about her time with the Queen, and was disappointed, though not surprised, to learn the girl knew almost nothing about the medicine Markkus had been giving the Queen. He had been debating his next step when the young girl offered to take him to the apothecary down in his lab. Jogeir had not mentioned anything about an apothecary being rounded up with the other inhabitants of Hasvik, nor uncovering any kind of lab, so it was likely the man was hiding out in some undiscovered part of the Keep. It was more than he could have hoped for—the man who had mixed the medicine should have all the information Malthe needed. What it did, how long she had been taking it, and more importantly, what side effects it may have had. May still have. Whatever this medicine was, he needed to know these things in order to continue to treat the ailing Queen.

He followed Rayna down to the lab with two guards trailing behind them in case the man gave them any trouble. They would also ensure he didn't wander about while they waited for a decision on what they would do with the Vindarr civilians.

"The lab's just around the corner," Rayna said as they walked. "Every morning I picked the medicine up from him. For the first week, it was added to a cup of coffee, but I didn't know Elsa didn't know about it. After she found out, Markkus told the apothecary to not mix it with anything, so Elsa could choose to take it or not."

Malthe frowned tightly. "Are you saying Queen Elsa took the medication willingly?" he asked, finding the scenario difficult to believe. "After she discovered it was being put into her coffee without her permission?"

Ray pursed her lips into a thin line, looking conflicted. "Markkus explained it to her, why he didn't tell her."

"Because the magic in the Keep could make her sick?" he asked, repeating what Rayna had told him earlier. He knew little about magic—not nearly as much as he'd like—but felt that reasoning was not only a lie, but a weak one. He had known the Queen her entire life, and while she was understanding and open-minded, willing to hear all sides of a discussion, she was far from naïve, and unfortunately because of many different factors, wasn't prone to trusting other people. All of this meant that either Markkus had made one hell of an argument, or whatever this medicine was, it was affecting the Queen's mind. Both options left him even more worried for the young Queen.

As they turned the corner Ray had pointed out, Malthe immediately noticed the drop in temperature in the hallway. Before he could assign any level of importance to the chill in the air, Rayna ran to a nearby door and threw it open.

A blast of cold air rolled out of the room. Rayna stood with her hand on the door, eyes wide. "Whoa," she whispered, her breath clouding in front of her face.

Malthe stepped up behind her, recoiling as he saw what had stopped Rayna in her tracks.

He hadn't known what to expect of the lab, but it was certainly not that thick, melting ice would cover every visible surface.

"Huh," Rayna said, taking a step into the room. "It was not like this before." She stopped and looked around, a frown decorating her face. "He isn't in here. He's always in here. No matter, it's okay. I know where he keeps his notes on the plants and herbs he uses." Ray moved to a large desk and bookcase in the room.

Malthe stepped in behind her, inspecting the room. He had witnessed the Queen losing control of her magic many times while growing up. Apart from the events at her coronation, the worst had been the night she declared her own parents lost at sea and called off the search for them. Her room had been covered in frost and snow, the furniture soaked through, and some broken, turned brittle by the ice. Queen Elsa had to be relocated to another room for almost a week as they dried the room out. The room he was looking at now was in an even worse state, at least two inches of solid ice coating every surface of the room. Large puddles let him know it was likely the room had been thawing for some time. He could only guess at how much ice there had originally been. The most disturbing part of all was that the Queen had been wearing the cuffs that blocked her magic. So when she had been in this room last, and caused all this, either the cuffs had been removed, or . . .

He remembered then, the broken crystals on the offensive items, how the missing chunks made it appear as though they had exploded from the inside out.

Malthe did not know the strength of the cuffs, but knew they had to have been enough to temper the Queen's power while her sister was in danger, and considering what she did by accident in Arendelle, that wasn't a minor feat. He felt his stomach twist in an uncomfortable knot.

Malthe stepped further into the room, looking from the melting ice to the dripping spears of ice sticking up from the floor. His gaze fell on a cluster of spikes to the side of the room, and an object they were framing. He crossed the room for a better look, and it took a moment for him to realize what he was looking at. It was a single hospital bed, which on its own was not a concerning sight. Attached to the bed, mixed in with broken shards of ice, there were multiple leather straps, covered in frost and splintered, but still easy to identify. He had seen them used plenty of times in other hospitals, to strap a patient to a bed so that they couldn't move or escape, so they couldn't hurt themselves, or others.

Malthe dragged a hand down his face, a curse falling from his lips. He recalled some abrasions on the Queen's wrists that he originally attributed to those damnable cuffs, until he found matching ones around her ankles, just above her knees, and one across her upper chest. He had suspected what they could be right away, but hoped for some other explanation, any other explanation. But standing in this room covered in ice, looking at a frozen hospital bed with straps matching injuries on the Queen . . .

He let his eyes slide shut, shaking his head, his worry about what the Queen had gone through increasing tenfold. Malthe released a deep breath and turned to find the young girl who had led him here so they could figure out what the Queen had been given. He wouldn't tell the others about the room, not just yet; Queen Elsa had a tendency to be very fickle about certain topics. He would wait until he could speak with her first and let her decide who was brought in after that. Maybe if he was very, very lucky, she would have some semi-rational answer for all this.


Anna sat, chin resting in her hand, and watched as her sister slept. When it was just the two of them like this, she could almost imagine it was any other morning, calm and peaceful, Elsa simply sleeping in, and everything was okay.

Except that Elsa didn't sleep in.

A frown tugged at the corners of her sister's lips and a wrinkle appeared between her brow, letting Anna know Elsa wasn't truly resting, and it wasn't peaceful.

Deep purple bruising covered most of her cheek and stood out in painful contrast to the pale, white skin underneath, reminding Anna that everything wasn't okay.

There was more bruising that she couldn't see, and cuts that were hidden beneath bandaging or the loose-fitting garments they had found for Elsa, so she didn't have to wear the clothes they had found her in. Anna let them burn the clothing; they were a lost cause, dirty and torn beyond repair, and the blood . . . Anna didn't know anything about medicine beyond the basic first aid Kristoff had only started teaching her, but the sheer amount of blood that had covered Elsa's clothing, the ground, the blanket Kristoff wrapped around her in a vain effort to keep her from going into shock . . . she didn't think anyone could lose so much blood and still be alive.

According to Malthe, you couldn't.

But Elsa had never been one to play by anyone's rules but her own. For better or worse.

In this instance, it may have been for the better, but there had been many times that the rules locked inside her older sister's head turned out to be more harmful than helpful. Ideas that even months after the events of the Queen's Winter, Anna was still having a hard time cutting through. Specifically, this notion Elsa had that she was a danger to everyone around her, that her very existence was an unnecessary risk to the kingdom.

"-because of me, because of what I am."

That's what Elsa had said the night Anna forced a confrontation about Asia. Elsa had told her that Asia's death was because of what she was, And the words struck Anna deeply, the thought that her sister could even consider such a thing. Then, the week before the trip to Valle, Anna had found out Elsa wanted to rebuild the dungeon in the castle—specifically, the room she had made for herself, along with the same shackles.

"Just in case," she had told Anna in that calm, nonchalant tone, like they were discussing color options for an upcoming festival, instead of a prison of her own making. "Just to be safe."

After their argument in Elsa's private study, she'd been careful not to push her sister too hard, but that had been something she couldn't keep quiet about. She and Elsa argued, Anna more heated than her sister, who seemed resigned to the need for such a prison. Elsa had only conceded to putting off the task when Anna pointed out that she had broken through the shackles before, and the same method wouldn't work. Nothing had been resolved, but Anna took comfort knowing that the delay meant she had more time to beat the thought out of her stubborn sister's mind.

Elsa blamed her magic for their suffering; Anna blamed their parents. Elsa was an intelligent woman, one of the smartest people Anna had ever known, and there were many others who felt the same. Her sister was skilled in many areas, any of which would make many jealous. But she was blinded to anything concerning the faults of their parents, and her own self-worth. Anna could admit that their parents did what they thought was best, and that they loved both her and Elsa very much, but she couldn't excuse them for the damage they did to them. Mostly, for what they did to Elsa. Her older sister continued to hold their parents faultless, every "they did the best they could," or "it wasn't their fault," was followed by a silent "it was mine." Anna worried her sister would never recover from such thoughts and feelings, and felt lost trying to help her. It was like trying to convince someone the sky was blue when all they could see is green.

Every time Anna thought she was making progress, something set them back; one step forward, and six steps back. What had happened here in Hasvik, and with the Sirma—Anna feared it would further reenforce those thoughts. Anna would always do whatever she could to help her sister; Elsa deserved some peace, calm, and true happiness, and she was tired of seeing her sister suffer for everyone else's mistakes and poor choices.

Elsa's breath stuttered, drawing Anna out of her thoughts. She leaned forward and rested her hand on her sister's warm forehead, whispering softly to her. She expected Elsa to drift back off again, as was quickly becoming the routine, but was surprised to see pale blue eyes blinking sluggishly.

She shifted from the chair to sit on the edge of the bed, so she was in Elsa's direct line of sight. "Hey," Anna whispered, brushing a stray hair from Elsa's face.

Elsa blinked up at her, her frown deepening, along with the wrinkles between her brows. Anna could tell that she was trying to figure out what had happened; they had been through this a few times now. Elsa would wake up, confused, with some degree of agitation, then inevitably the drugs would drag her back under. Sometimes she was awake enough to take some water and few sips of broth. Anna wondered how much her sister was understanding, if she knew what was going on or if her mind was too fuzzy to even attempt to figure it out.

Elsa raised her hands toward her face and Anna quickly laid halting fingers on her right arm, near the elbow. "Hey, careful now."

Elsa looked down at the splint that encased most of her right hand and forearm and blinked.

"Your arm is broken." Anna gently pressed the arm back toward the pillow they had elevated it on. "Do you remember what happened?"

Elsa watched as Anna guided the arm back down, then dragged her eyes back to Anna. She stared for a moment before slowly nodding, her gaze shifting to take in the rest of the room.

Anna's eyes widened. She hadn't expected her sister to remember anything right now, much less be coherent enough to give an answer. There were a million things she wanted to tell Elsa in what appeared to be a brief window of lucidity, but she tempered herself, knowing that she had to put all her feelings to the side. There would be time for heartfelt apologizes and deep conversations later, when her sister wasn't so unguarded. She had thought a conversation without those walls between them was what she wanted until she got just that the day before. It had been a heartbreaking sight, one Anna was sure she'd take to her grave. She decided then that she never wanted to see her sister in such a vulnerable state again, with all her walls down and her pain and fear open to the world. She knew she was being selfish, no matter how much she pretended it was for Elsa's sake. Deep down, Anna understood it was because she didn't want to think of her strong, graceful, older sister as helpless and vulnerable. It was almost funny, because Anna had spent the last few months trying to convince her sister that she was human and that she didn't need to be perfect, yet Anna wanted to keep going on believing that Elsa could make everything okay just by virtue of being.

They were going to have to find a balance of some sort, she supposed, but right now what mattered was Elsa, and how she was doing.

Anna wrapped her fingers around Elsa's left hand and squeezed gently, drawing her sister's attention. "How are you doing?"

Elsa pressed her lips into a thin line, a wince crossing her face. "Hurts," she whispered, her voice a thick and rough sound that caused Anna to suppress her own wince. She also wondered, not for the first time, what specific events had occurred to put her sister in such a state.

"What hurts?" she asked, though, considering the numerous injuries decorating her sister's person. She knew it was a dumb question.

Elsa's face folded, and it was clear she was struggling to find the right words. "Chest." She slid her hand out of Anna's and pressed it against the ribs on her left side.

Anna's face fell. She leaned forward and brushed her hand over the top of Elsa's head, not knowing what else to do. "I know. Malthe said you have some damage to your left side and it might hurt to breathe for a few days while it heals."

Elsa's gaze dropped sightlessly to some middle ground before she blinked heavily. Anna expected her to drop off again, but her sister looked back up at her. "Drugs?"

It was a single word, but Anna knew exactly what Elsa was asking. "Yeah, sorry. Malthe has you on a light sedative. I think the last dose was about two hours ago?"

Elsa wrinkled her nose, and perhaps it was a product of the stress of everything that had happened, but Anna couldn't help but chuckle to see this normal yet somewhat childish reaction from her sister. It was something she almost believed she'd never get the chance to see again.

"I promise," she told her sister, "the doctor said it's only for a few days. Just long enough for your lung to recover."

Elsa didn't look any more satisfied with the answer, but sighed softly and Anna took that as acceptance. Her sister reached out a clumsy hand, wrapping her fingers loosely around Anna's. "You okay?"

Anna's eyebrows shot up. "Me? Of course I am. Why?"

Elsa's fingers squeezed weakly. "Crying."

"What?" Anna pressed her free hand against her cheek, surprised to feel tears running tracks down her cheeks. "Oh," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I just—" Her breath hitched as everything started to catch up with her, and she swallowed past the thick lump that was suddenly in her throat.

Elsa tugged lightly against her fingers, and it took Anna a moment to decipher the movement. She shook her head. "Elsa, I can't. I mean, I'd probably accidently kick you, or roll into you, or—"

Elsa cracked a smile and Anna felt like she might start crying harder. "Big bed," she said breathlessly, her eyelids drifting down as she fought against the tide, tugging at Anna's fingers again.

Finally, Anna gave into the want, the need to allow her sister to wrap her in a hug. "Okay, but only if you're sure I won't hurt you, and only for a little bit." She carefully stretched out next to her sister, trying to keep some distance between them. Then Elsa's left arm found its way around her shoulders. She didn't have the strength to pull Anna closer and made a frustrated noise when Anna failed to be moved. It didn't stop her from trying, and not wanting her sister to hurt herself more, Anna snuggled closer, mindful of her sister's broken ribs and various other injuries.

Her head rested against Elsa's shoulder and she breathed in deeply. "You still smell like the forest."

She felt more than heard the exhaled chuckle from her sister as they both drifted off.


Malthe walked into the room and sat at the table, the drawn, worried look on his face doing nothing to ease the tension in the room. Anna was settled next to Kristoff, tucking her hand in his. Across the table was Captain Jogeir, with the Admiral to his left. Dinner sat at the center of the table, untouched as they all waited for the doctor's report. Everyone at the table hoped for good news, but knew the chances of that were slim.

Kristoff gently squeezed Anna's hand, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Well, the bad news is we couldn't locate this apothecary," Malthe started, slowly folding his hands on the tabletop in front of him. "But with Rayna's surprisingly insightful assistance, we were able to identify the drug the Vindarr had been giving the Queen."

"And?" Kristoff asked.

"And that's where the good news ends." Malthe poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. "The drug comes from a plant called the blood clover. It's not necessarily a rare plant, but the conditions it grows in are unique, which can make it difficult to find."

Jogeir leaned forward, his narrowed gaze settling on Malthe. "Why do I get the feeling you're not about to tell us it was used to treat her allergies?"

Anna wrinkled her nose. Does Elsa even get allergies? She felt like that was something she should know about her own sister, but of course, she didn't. She rubbed her palm against her tired, puffy eyes, trying to keep her wandering mind on the conversation at hand.

Malthe sighed heavily. "I'm afraid not. According to the notes we found, the drug weakens one's will, their ability for deductive reasoning, allowing another to wield influence over them as they see fit."

Kristoff stared at Malthe blankly, then shook his head. "I'm sorry. Can you try that again, but with smaller words? You know, for those of us who haven't slept in the last . . ." He rolled his hand in the air before looking to Jogeir. "I'm sorry, what month is it?"

Jogeir offered an unhelpful shrug.

Anna was no more help, nor did she care to be. Her attention was now fixed on Malthe, hoping against hope that she completely misunderstood what she thought the physician just said.

"Uh, right." Malthe dragged a hand across his chin. "How do I put this delicately?"

"Don't." Naismith said. "Blunt and simple will work just fine. Three out of the four of us here aren't that smart, and I'm pretty sure her Highness hasn't slept since October."

Jogeir looked faintly insulted but made no comment.

The doctor nodded. "It's meant to allow someone, such as Markkus, to manipulate whoever he drugs, to make them do and believe things they normally wouldn't. Essentially, in a high enough dosage, this drug could convince a warlord to sign over his country and teach the poor origami."

"Christ on a bicycle." Jogeir rubbed his hands over his face, then dropped them to the table with a thud. "Please tell me it doesn't have a lasting effect."

"The drug does not," Malthe said carefully.

Naismith frowned. "I can't help but think that was some pretty specific phrasing."

Malthe dipped his chin. "The ability to influence only lasts as long as the drug is in the person's system. However, I can't be sure whether the Queen will still believe the things Markkus said to her without the drug's influence. I do believe that if the Queen is willing to talk about those things, it will be fairly simple for her to decipher the lies from the truth."

There was tangible relief in the room, as no one wanted to even consider the implications of what it would have meant otherwise. It wasn't much, but it was a bit of good news in a long line of bad.

"Sure, convince Elsa to talk about what she went through. How hard could that be?" Anna scrubbed her fingers against her forehead, knowing that this was sure to be the hardest part of Elsa's recovery, talking about what had happened. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. One step at a time. "What happens now? It's out of her system, right?"

"I believe so," the doctor confirmed. "The influence lasts roughly two days and withdraw begins two to five days after the last dose was given. According to Rayna, that would have been the morning of the attack."

"So, this would be day four?" Kristoff asked. "Five? Do we know how long this usually lasts?"

"It will peak around two weeks from the start of the first symptoms. After that . . . it's difficult to say."

Something about Malthe's tone raised a red flag in Anna's mind. "Why?"

"Because all other known victims of the drug were left for dead, and they did just that. Died. Usually just within two weeks."

"Well, we aren't just leaving Elsa for . . . I mean, she'll be okay, right?" Anna squeezed Kristoff's hand tightly while keeping her gaze fixed on Malthe. She needed Elsa to be okay.

"I will do everything within my power to ensure the Queen's recovery, but—" Malthe's gaze dropped to the table as he collected himself. "It's important to remember that the Queen has been through a lot, both physically and mentally. Her body is still trying to recover from several serious injuries, from blood loss she shouldn't have . . . the symptoms from this particular drug can be quite severe, and I'm not sure . . ."

Anna didn't need the physician to finish to know what he was saying. She swallowed a thick lump in her throat. "There has to be something we can do."

"I believe we have one of two options," the doctor started. "If the Queen hasn't already started going through withdrawal, she will be soon. The first option is to allow it to continue, to treat her symptoms as they come up, and hope she has enough strength left in her to weather this storm."

"And option two?" Anna asked.

Malthe hesitated. "According to Rayna's description of how Queen Elsa acted and what she observed from the apothecary making the medicine, I don't believe they gave the Queen a large dose of the drug. I think it was just enough to allow Markkus to influence her, but not so much that she had no will at all. We could match the dose, then slowly ween her off it. Drop the dose by twenty percent the next day, and then by ten percent roughly once a week. She would still have some symptoms, but they wouldn't be anywhere near as severe."

"Wait—hold on." Kristoff held his hand in the air. "You want to give Elsa the same drug Markkus was giving her? A drug you said makes her open to manipulation?" He shook his head. "You know she's never going to agree to that."

"I have reason to believe that the Queen is unaware of the true nature of the drug," Malthe said. "Markkus told her it was medicine to keep her from getting sick, due to the overabundance of magic on the island."

Anna frowned. "There's no way Elsa would believe that."

"According to Rayna, they had slipped it into the Queen's drink every morning without her knowledge. By the time she found out what was going on and confronted Markkus about it, she had already been taking the drug for a week."

"Making her open to believing whatever lies Markkus fed her, no matter how weak they were," Anna finished for him. She put her elbows on the table and rubbed her temples. She felt sick to her stomach, thinking about what exactly her sister had gone through while she was a world away, what Markkus could have put her through. Erik was right; he was far worse than Tyr. At least Tyr never hid his feelings.

Kristoff leaned forward on his arms. "I can't help but get the feeling you're suggesting we give Elsa this drug without her knowledge or consent."

"Under normal circumstances, I would never even think of making such a suggestion. I understand there is little chance the Queen would agree to such a thing, but as I said earlier, she has been through a lot. Her body is still recovering from blood loss, a persistent fever, and a broken arm and ribs. Those are just the problems that we can see. A cold stop for drug dependency is rarely recommended and, in this case, it may be more than she can handle."

"You can't possibly be entertaining this idea." Kristoff turned to her, gaze narrowed, and Anna realized that once again, the decision rested on her shoulders. "Anna, you are talking about violating your sister's free will, in multiple ways."

Anna's sister would never agree to taking the drug if she knew what it had been doing to her, the reason they had given her it in the first place. She didn't want to lie to Elsa, after everything she had already been through. Piling a lie on top of it all would only make things that much worse. But it also scared her that her sister's stubborn will would keep her from seeing reason. Not weening off this drug could cause Elsa far more harm. It felt like a lose-lose situation no matter what they did.

Kristoff stood abruptly. "Look, I know this isn't really my place, but after everything she has been through, the Vindarr drugging her into obedience, the Sirma using you to force her to fight—don't you think Elsa has had enough people forcing their decisions on her? I know I have only known you and your sister for a few months, but the little I do know about her? Making this sort of choice for her may do more damage than the Vindarr and the Sirma combined. At least she never trusted them."

Stung, Anna looked from Kristoff to Malthe. "How long would it take to ween her off the drug completely?"

Malthe winced, and Anna immediately knew she wasn't going to like his suggestion. "Roughly two months for a proper recovery."

"Two months?" Jogeir asked, his eyebrows raised. "I'm sorry, this may seem like an obvious question, but you do realize we are talking about a Queen, right? Not even taking her magic into consideration, this is a woman with a lot of power. Not really someone you want open to outside manipulation."

"Obviously, if we went through with this option, Queen Elsa could not function in her role as Queen until it is completely out of her system," Malthe said.

"Oh, I'm sure that would go over well," Kristoff bit out. "Clearly you haven't met her."

"Kristoff," Anna pleaded. She wanted him on her side but didn't know what her side was. She felt torn between the two terrible choices. Neither felt right, and neither felt easy.

Kristoff sighed and shook his head, visibly deflating. "I know you'll do what you think is best, but I can't be a part of this decision."

Anna turned in her seat as Kristoff headed for the door. "Where are you going?"

"Someone should be with Elsa in case she wakes up." He paused at the door and shook his head. "Don't worry, I won't say anything about this to her."

A heavy silence fell over the room as Anna rolled Kristoff's words over in her mind. He was right; she knew he was. Anna wondered what Elsa would do in her shoes, whether her sister would make the choice for her, or allow her to choose on her own? Anna didn't know what she would prefer, if she were in Elsa's position.

"Kristoff's right," she said finally. Of course he was. Anna couldn't make a choice like this for her sister, even though she knew what Elsa was going to say, even though she felt desperate to protect her sister from herself, there were some lines that couldn't be crossed, no matter the cost. She could only pray that Elsa's life wouldn't be the cost of this choice.

Anna nodded to herself. "I'll talk to Elsa, and tell her about the drug," She looked across the table to Malthe. "If you'll help when I do, maybe you can convince her . . ." She shrugged but didn't hold out hope for that option. "In the meantime, I think it might be smart get the ships ready to set sail soon. If Elsa makes the choice, we are all sure she's going to, I'm sure she would rather go through that in the comfort of home rather than some gods forsaken island in the middle of a half-frozen sea."