With a grunt, Anna swings a lute hard into a sailor's head; shattering his jaw amidst the twanging of broken strings. His shirt rips apart as she tosses him over the deck, and he falls into the slew of boats docking by the ship's hull. Anna flicks her head to the sight of the mutiny rapidly deteriorating into a free-for-all as the remaining Southern Isles sailors desperately defend the last corridor leading to the hold.

"Boats are coming!" the ship's captain yells over the din of clashing steel as he bludgeons another sailor over the head with a telescope.

A loud roar erupts on the deck as the Arendelle sailors rally together and begin beating off Southern Isles troops attempting to board the Norge's rigging. News of the mutiny spread like wildfire around the fleet; helped about in no small part by the ferocious roar of Anna's enraged voice tearing through the foggy night air. Several ships have already raised the Crocus flag and started sending their own troops into the fray – having launched mutinies of their own and regained control of their vessels.

Amidst the melee, no one notices a tall man emerging from a heavily barred door. His olive-branch signet ring glints against the glare of torches ablaze as he unholsters a blunderbuss and aims it directly at Anna struggling against a hefty-sized sailor over a spear. The sight hovers over her head, and a smirk forms on his lips as he pulls the trigger. Two brawling sailors stumble over his toes and the gun misfires, sending a bullet zipping through Anna's hair and shattering the bulwark.

Anna bolts upright at the sound and frantically feels her neck for a wound; finding none, she spots the King reloading his gun through the crowd of brawling men, and snaps her opponent's neck across his shoulders. With a feral growl, she lurches towards the King on all fours and leaps across the deck just in time to slam into him as his gun fires again. The impact sends him crashing through the door and into a corridor. Anna's eyes widen at the sight of the hold's door yards away from her and starts running, but a sharp tug at her feet sends her falling face-first into the deck. She groans in pain and lashes out a boot at the King, before scrambling to her feet.

Adolphus leans his entire weight into Anna and tackles her to the floor inches away from the door. With a loud crack, he lashes out the pistol at her head and she returns the assault with a fist into his nose. Bloodied and bruised – the two aristocrats brawl in the darkness, throttling and choking at each other's necks. Despite the King's hulking frame, Anna's rage-induced insanity wins out; she jams her fist into his mouth and flings him headfirst through the hold's door. The sudden blast of heat scorching Anna's face is dulled by the chill ripping through Anna's body when she sees a pile of fabric on the ground.

"Elsa!" Anna screams at the sight of her sister buckled over the floor in chains. She trods over the King and shakes desperately at Elsa's motionless body. "Elsa, please, please, please wake up!"

Anna's flesh hisses as she closes her fingers around the red-hot chains and rips it from Elsa's hands in one motion. Ignoring the blisters on her hands, the gauntlets come apart with the crunch of tearing iron and Anna unleashes a roar when Elsa's burnt hands come into view.

"You fuck!" Anna shrieks, yanking the King's half-conscious body by his head and dragging him towards the furnace, "you fucking fuck! What the fuck did you do to her?"

After hurling the King's body into the fires, Anna whirls around from the barely audible howls of pain coming from within the furnace to the sight of enemy soldiers marching down the corridor.

"Get the Queen!"

Blood and sweat pours down Anna's face as she lifts her sister's limp body and starts down the corridor. She picks up a broken half of the hold's door as she gains momentum, before slamming it into the soldiers like a battering ram. Amidst the shrieks from crushed toes and dented faces, Anna powers through the last few men and leaps clear onto the deck with Elsa slung over her shoulders, sending mauled bodies and broken limbs flying into the fray. With the noise of cannon fire and men fighting resonating across the deck, Anna's eyes flits from person to person; her hands begin to shake under the panic welling up inside her.

With most of the Southern Isles soldiers inching away from the crazed, blood-thirsty presence the Princess commands, Anna starts ducking the random mix of objects being thrown at her from around the deck. The dam of terror within her reaches its breaking point and she hurls herself overboard, screaming as she plummets into the bloodied waters below. As she regains her composure bobbing between the shattered hulls of small boats, the sight of sailors' corpses floating around her twists her stomach into knots, and she retches into the water.

"Elsa!" Anna gasps, wiping her mouth and swallowing her nausea. Anna's heart leaps at the tinge of frost skirting across the surface from her sister's body lying face up in the crimson tide. With the smell of blood and gunpowder filling her nostrils, Anna yanks her sister and hauls her into a barely-floating wreck of a boat. She covers her sister's body with her own and starts paddling away from the Norge with a plank of broken wood, all the while looking over her shoulder at the firey chaos of war descending upon the fleet.

"Please, please, Elsa, just…hang in there," Anna pleads, dragging her sister onto the shore beneath the glare of a dull-orange night sky. She flinches at the sound of a cannon, and flings herself over Elsa. Despite the light sleet descending on the bloodied and bruised siblings, Elsa remains unconscious beneath the soaking wet mess of blankets wrapped around her body. Anna kneels against the grass and chokes up the salty-bitter taste of blood in her lungs. It takes her several attempts to lift Elsa over her shoulders; she stumbles up the shore, slipping and sliding against the dusting of snow under her feet.

Unsure of her bearings, Anna wanders further and further into the stillness of the night. The adrenaline of Elsa's rescue has all but faded away into her gasping breaths, and a dull ache begins swirling in her belly. Resting against the side of a tree, Anna gasps as her hands come away with blood from where the King had shot her by the side of her waist. She leans Elsa against the trunk and rips a hole in her dress in an attempt to determine the severity of her wound, but the foggy darkness steals every trace of light from the air.

A sudden gust sweeps through Anna's hair and she flattens herself against the ground. "What the hell was that?" She gasps, and sweat runs down her brow as she spots the silhouette of an arrow perched a foot away from her.

"Oh no."

With the ache in her belly developing into a raging burn, Anna grits her teeth and picks Elsa up, dashing as fast as her feet can hustle into the concealment of trees. She snaps her head back at the twang of a bowstring, and barely spots the arrow fast enough for her to throw herself away from its path – sending her and Elsa tumbling through the leaves.

Anna peers into the haze and tries to make out something, but her eyes are met with a swirling fog growing fingers of its own. Her ears prickle at the sound of galloping hooves, and she briefly makes out the shadow of a rider in the distance. Whirling around, she spots another shadow riding away from her, and another further into the forest. Anna clutches at her face as the realisation slams into her head.

A whistling sound gives away the trajectory of the next arrow, and Anna easily dodges it with a roll. She leaps to her feet in time to come face to face with the sight of a horse bearing right down at her. The point of a spear glints in the darkness; she rips it from the air just as its wielder strikes out at her. The force of Anna's sweep unseats the rider, catapulting him into the ground next to Elsa.

The soldier ignores Anna and draws his sword over Elsa. His attempts to slash the Queen's throat are met with a sputtered gargle as Anna forces his throat down on the blade. Her shaking hands come away slick with blood, and she makes out an olive branch on his epaulettes.

The rumble of galloping hooves tears Anna's attention away from the ice forming beneath her feet, and she yanks the spear from the ground. With a shriek, Anna lashes out hard at another rider swooping down on her, batting him high into the trees. The rustle of leaves sends her fleeing back to Elsa, and she hurls the spear into a soldier with a dagger drawn across Elsa's throat, sending him flying backwards into a tree.

"No, no, no!" Anna shrieks as she realises how impossibly surrounded and outnumbered she is.

Anna's footsteps leave swirls of smoke twirling in her wake, and a night breeze descends upon the forest, parting a rift in the fog. She looks down at the ground and gasps at the trail of ice glistening beneath the moonlight. Despite her best efforts at treading lightly, her apprehensive steps do nothing to conceal the sleet falling on the grass.

"Please, Elsa," Anna whispers to her sister, barely stirring beneath the exertions, "please try to control it- they're coming for you."

Elsa lips slur in response, but her eyes remain shut against Anna's shoulders. Silhouetted against the shore's red glow, Anna spots a platoon of cavalry trotting through the forest; she ducks her head and runs, but her mind has already been made up. The thudding of hooves accelerates into a medley of galloping, and a tear escapes Anna's eyes as she realises that her end draws near.

With her hand firmly clutched around her stomach and blood oozing from between her fingers, Anna scans the ground and finds a large pile of leaves. She gingerly eases her sister into a ditch and buries her as quickly as her trembling hands can muster. The neighing of horses gets louder and louder as Anna kicks up leaves around the trail of ice left behind by her sister.

"I'm sorry, Elsa," Anna whispers, planting a kiss on the only exposed patch of skin on Elsa's forehead, "forgive me."

Letting out a ferocious roar, Anna runs off in the opposite direction from her sister. She glances over at the approaching horsemen and her heart begins to throb violently as they turn to attack her. Her feet take her several yards before the pain in her stomach reaches its breaking point; she buckles over on the grass and groans in agony at the fire tearing through her guts.

"Please," Anna pleads with her body. She grits her teeth and rises to meet her attackers, extending a pair of bloodied hands into the hazy darkness. Despite Anna's tear-fogged gaze hampering her vision, she spots the glimmer of a spear flying towards her, and shifts her weight just enough to snatch it from the air a second before it would've struck her. A pair of riders descend upon Anna and lash out at her with swords, before ending up impaled against a tree. The other horsemen dismount and surround Anna in their dozens, wielding spears in their trembling hands and sleet-white expressions on their faces.

A tall, muscular man approaches on a horse and stares at the sheen of tousled red hair falling across Anna's shoulders. His booming voice forms foggy clouds beneath his helmet, "Where is Elsa?"

Anna's trembling frame remains resolute despite being slumped over in pain. She flashes a look of hatred at the commander – before extending the spear towards him.

"Take her!" he commands his men, "by force!"

The circle of pikes descend upon Anna and a roar resonates through the forest as she sends the first three men flying into the others. However, the troop of soldiers prove too much even for Anna, and before long they overpower her; slapping iron shackles around her wrists and ankles. Still, she drags the men along the ground from her chains, desperate to lose none of her freedom. The commander dismounts his horse and slaps her hard across the face with the flat of his sword.

Anna slumps to the ground as her vision turns red beneath the trail of blood leaking from her head. Her world spins, but just before she passes out, she spots a small pile of leaves where Elsa's body lies –

- And her lips curl into a smile.