"No, I won't be releasing funds for the project and neither will I sign your approval," Anna scowls, barely lifting her head from the stack of parchments beneath her weary gaze, "I don't care what Elsa promised you."
Eyes dripping with venom, the minister in the starched overcoat flashes a look at Anna. Hunched in her sister's office chair, the throne engulfs Anna in its regal magnitude. Barely of age and ill-prepared to run a kingdom, the rigor of handling the Queen's affairs takes its toll on her. She pauses scribbling and slumps in the throne, clutching at her forehead as a pulsing ache throbs in her brain.
"But your Highness, she...she-" the minister complains, only to be cut off by the Princess's voice.
"I said no, and I suggest you take your leave before my head implodes from your bothersome petitions."
The princess doesn't look up from the work in front of her; she pretends not to hear the door slamming, and continues writing. But her eyes remain fixed on a sentence Kai had scribbled on her notes before the first visitors to Elsa's office started arriving.
If you can make God bleed, people will cease to believe in Her. There will be blood in the water and the sharks will come.
Anna pauses her writing in anticipation of another person seeking her favor. She waits an entire minute in silence, before deciding that the message about her moratorium on domestic affairs must've spread amongst the court.
With nothing left but the hearth's crackling punctuating the silence, Anna ceases her busy work and peers out the door. After spending a day hounded by ministers and bureaucrats, the princess sighs at the empty hallway, but her chest clenches with the knowledge of what she's about to witness. With a heavy heart, Anna grips the sides of her dress and heads to Elsa's bedroom.
The Queen's hair gleams beneath the sunset's rays streaming through the window, but the sight of her thin, lifeless body robs all beauty from its splendor. A disconcerting warmth greets Anna when she enters; her fears confirmed by the grimace on the doctor's face. The disarrayed mess of healing balms and medicines on the dresser fills the room with a sickly scent, a far cry from the inviting fragrance Anna remembers filling this place.
"Your Highness…" the doctor starts, his voice trailing into a drawl as the princess brushes past him and kneels by her sister's side. Anna sucks in a gasp as she picks up one of Elsa's frail hands, letting it drop to the sheets when she realises how warm she is. Anna studies the dark red lines running up her arms where her veins used to be, and begins to tremble at the realisation.
She could lose Elsa.
"W-what's happening to her?" Anna asks. As much as her spirits sink to new depths each time she looks upon Elsa, the doctor's crestfallen face does nothing to help.
"Your Highness, her Majesty is very ill," the doctor says, looking over Anna's shoulder and shifting his eyes, "it is very unlikely she will rouse from her slumber."
"Please, sir, please!" Anna yelps, leaping to her feet and grasping him by the lapels, "Just tell me everything!"
"I-I have consulted with my seniors in Oxford, a-and...explained her symptoms to them," he stammers, before taking a few steps back, just out of Anna's reach, "they have concurred that Queen Elsa is stricken with fire poisoning."
"Fire poisoning?" Anna cries, touching her palm to Elsa's forehead and recoiling from the heat radiating from her sister's skin.
"Aye, it must be the dragon's breath. Normal humans would be able to shrug off the poison, but the ice running through her Majesty's veins served as an imbalance which the poison latched itself onto. The poison tipped the scale in its favor, and will spread through her body with each passing day, until her insides melt and there is nothing left of her Majesty but ash and bone."
"No no, no!" Anna shrieks, grabbing her sister's arms. Slick with sweat, her hands slip from them, further intensifying her hysteria. "T-there's nothing we can do? Nothing?"
"The medicine I have administered will lower the fever and stave the poison's spread through her veins, but there's nothing within our Kingdom that will serve as a definitive cure."
Anna whirls around at his words, "Our Kingdom? Y-you mean..you mean…?"
She snatches the folded piece of paper from his hands before he's able to explain its contents. Anna stares at the yellow flower painted onto the parchment, its petals fanning out like the rays of the sun. Radix isatidis, Anna reads beneath the painting.
"This...this is a cure?" Anna asks.
"As far as we know, yes, but-"
"What are we waiting for?" Anna shrieks, sending the doctor inching away from her.
"Your Highness, this is an exceedingly rare flower. We know it exists, but...but-"
"I don't care! I'll pay out the entire treasury for one specimen if it cures her!"
"The flower is native to the Dornhan forest, in Weselton."
"Well, let's go there!" Anna yells, before the realisation dawns upon her, "Let's go to...Weselton. Shit."
The princess slumps into a chair and clutches at her forehead as the doctor's words float past her ears. The words trade embargo and openly hostile make an appearance in his sentence. She struggles to concentrate on what he's saying, but the spinning in the room makes it hard to focus on anything.
"...and it won't be so simple, whether you choose to negotiate with the duke, or take it by force. Nonetheless, I trust in your counsel, and I will leave you to make a decision."
"I will...I will...think of something," Anna says, "thank you for your efforts, doctor."
As the palace doctor takes his leave, Anna stares at the piece of paper in her hand, no doubt torn from one of those plant encyclopedias she must've studied when she was younger. In the hazy dusk settling upon the room, the paper's weight grows in Anna's hand and despite the strength in her bones, she sets it down on the dresser, unable to bear the gravity of everything it means.
I'd do anything for you, Anna reminds herself, anything. She presses her lips to Elsa's forehead, trying not to flinch at the searing heat scorching her.
With heat radiating from every pore of Elsa's skin, the princess lays a hand over her sister's heart, the only part of her body still cool to the touch. Anna imagines the ice inside Elsa's soul still fighting to keep itself solid beneath the fury of fire poison. A part of her conscience aches with the thought that Elsa did this for her.
"I'll get you out of this," Anna whispers into the warm air. With a sigh, she reclines in the chair; her mind racing with thoughts of how to get to Weselton and back. Perhaps she could pull off some complicated diplomatic maneuver to get access to Weselton, or start a war between the nations which could distract them. Perhaps...perhaps…
I could never pull any of these off, I'm not as smart or talented as you.
"Your Highness," Kai's voice calls from the door, stirring Anna from her thoughts, "the sailors are ready."
The Princess snaps to her feet and gasps, "Now? They're going to do it tonight?"
"Aye, the captain recommended an overcast night with a new moon," Kai answers, gesturing at the lightless sky.
"Oh, I didn't...I didn't think it'd be so soon-" Anna says.
Kai steps aside as the Princess snatches the drawing and strides past her. With the authority of a monarch, Anna marches to the palace gates and throws the doors open.
Illuminated by blazing torches, Arendelle's sea militia snap to attention at the sight of Princess Anna standing before them. Their peace shortlived, the men display all signs of weariness at being called up for another round of war. Some of them still have soil on their boots from the farmwork they had been torn from earlier. In the distance, Anna barely makes out the silhouettes of small boats bobbing in the Fjord; packed to the brim with explosives, but hardly a navy.
The captain salutes Anna, taking care to stand at arm's length from her.
"Your Highness, the sea militia of Arendelle, ready for service," he announces, voice lacking in pride from the days when he used to command ships.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice, it must be difficult for you and your-" Anna's voice trails off as she studies the expression on the men's faces. Beneath the torches' glare, she can smell the fear seeping from their sleet-white faces. With a corrupt admiral executed and their ranks decimated by mutiny, one could guess the men had seen better days in the once-glorious Arendelle Navy.
"I commend your bravery in undertaking this task at hand," Anna announces to the sailors, "the safety and continued peace of our Kingdom will be ensured from your actions."
Anna stops and lifts her gaze to the starless sky. For the thousandth time today, a dreadful sense of powerlessness creeps into her spine. Powerless to stop the political squabbling. Powerless to help her sister. Powerless to lift the men's spirits.
"I have nothing else left to say to you, besides..." Anna says, pausing to think of everything that's passed in the past year.
Wasn't she strong? The strong and proud Anna who stood tall when Arendelle froze over? She took fate by its reins and risked everything even though it seemed foolhardy. But that was all she was, a fool who acted before she thought, and for all it was worth - it worked.
"Let's blow up their goddamned ships together!" Anna's voice rings across the courtyard.
"What?" the captain gasps, his voice drowned by the roar of his men cheering their hearts out.
"To the docks!" Anna cries, pumping her fist in the air. A hundred fists answer her call to arms, and their ensuing battle cry sends a tremble through the Palace walls.
Like a panther stalking its prey, Anna's boat steals through the night. Flanking hers, a dozen other boats loaded with gunpowder skim low in the water. The men's oars whisper as they break the water; so quiet are their sounds that Anna hears only her heart pounding in her throat. Despite the chill air, sweat drips from Anna's chin as she fixes her gaze on the lights flickering in the distance.
Beneath the inky darkness, the boats pass as mere shadows in the blackness. Huddled in the lead boat with a barrel of gunpowder jammed against his chin, the captain rocks his vessel in the water; a signal to slow down. The trembling in Anna's fingers intensifies as the Southern Isles' docks come into view: twelve half completed battleships lined precariously close to one another. Even in the darkness, she makes out silhouettes of men still working on their hulls in the dead of the night.
As planned, half the boats peel away and head for the left wharf. Anna holds her breath as the six boats disappear between the hulls. Without the constant motion of the boat to keep it still, a wave of nausea twists Anna's stomach into knots. She swallows the saliva seeping into her mouth, but she can't help but think about how much of a mistake she's making coming along for the mission. The dark sky feels like a cloak of lead settling upon her head; the seconds tick by like hours, but she sighs in relief when three of them reappear in the distance.
"Their team's done," the captain whispers to Anna, "we can proceed to-"
A flash as bright as the sun sears into Anna's eyes, followed by an ear splitting blast that sends her tumbling into the boat's hull. Anna opens her eyes to a sudden rush of stars filling her vision; it clears to the sight of the captain yelling at his boatmen, and the sudden lurch of her boat speeding through the water, but no sound accompanies the movement, save for a deathly ringing noise.
"Go, go, go!" a voice burns through the ringing. Nausea churns through Anna's belly, sending the girl clambering for the boat's edge. Her fingers crunch through the wood as she retches into the seawater swishing beneath the hull. She opens her eyes and recoils from another fireball rising into the air like a dragon. The girl's eyes glisten at the sky turning bright like the day; the noise of exploding ammunition stores sends a ripple of fear into her spine.
Anna's face turns sleet white, and she fails to see the men on the docks taking aim at her.
"Get down!" the captain yells. A hand drags her down. She gasps at a hiss passing an inch from her ear, and the arrow embedded in the captain's shoulder.
"Shit!" Anna shrieks. She clambers over the edge to get a better view of the defenders, but a half-dozen arrows slamming into the wood sends her falling back into the boat's bottom. Already, the hull runs slick with the blood of shot seamen, and the stench clenches at her stomach.
"Light the fuses! Abandon boat!" voices cry out around her. In the chaos she sees men throwing themselves and each other over the boat's edge. An arrow snaps the rope holding a gunpowder barrel, and it rolls onto Anna.
"Jesus, fuck, no!" Anna cries at the sailor lighting the fuse, before jumping overboard.
"Princess Anna!" the captain screams, trying and failing to staunch the stream of blood leaking from his arm, "Get out of here!"
His hand grabs her by the collar, and he makes a half-hearted attempt to haul her from the edge.
"Captain!" Anna shrieks, her shaking hands glistening with crimson.
"No, no, it was a mistake allowing you to follow us," he says, jamming her down as flaming arrows streak overhead.
"I-I…"
"Shh, listen! I'll steer the boat into the ships, it's loaded with enough gunpowder to sink them if I get close enough. Get away with the others!" he snarls, grabbing her by the collar.
"No! I'm not letting you do this!" Anna shrieks. Still, he attempts to shove her overboard. Anna pushes back at the captain. Somehow, he resists her insurmountable strength, and she punches him in the face. His body tumbles over the bulwark like a sack of potatoes, allowing Anna to take the oars and row for the ships.
The princess heaves and pants from barely a few seconds of rowing, before the hissing of fuses behind her spark a fire and flames begin to consume the wooden planks. Anna slumps into the hull and stares at the two hundred pounds of gunpowder ready to blow her to pieces. The pounding in her chest sends her head into a tailspin, but as her sanity begins to unravel, one image floats into her mind; clear as daylight and crisp as winter's chill.
Elsa.
Anna's boat drifts alongside the first ship's hull, still too far to cause any damage. She turns her gaze to the casks of gunpowder weighing a hundred pounds each and ready to explode. Their fuses hiss with wild abandon, spitting embers into the already fiery scene taking place around her. Hampered by smoke and fog, the defenders take potshots at the solitary figure in the boat insane enough to venture into the docks. A searing pain rips through her arm, and she gasps at the bloody gash in her dress. Anna buckles over from pain, but the sight of blood in the water reinforces a truth in her mind.
No, no, no. I can't die. The Kingdom will fall.
Arrows thud into the wood around Anna as she scampers on her hands and knees towards the gunpowder. A stray arrow nails into her dress and rips it at the hem. She tries to lift the first barrel, but the strength leaves her arms momentarily, only to be restored by the fleeting thought of Elsa's dead body in her bed. A grunt escapes her blood-soaked lips as she hauls the first barrel over her shoulder, followed by the other. The pain burns through her bones like fire, but the princess stands tall in face of her impending death.
"Eat shit," Anna snarls, before hurling both casks towards the ships. The flaming fuses paint a glowing arc in the smoke, and at once the defenders freeze at the sight of two bombs sailing through the air. Nausea finally takes its toll on the girl; spent from the exertion, she falls into the water like a tonne of bricks.
The water's frosty chill cuts into her face no sooner than the world above her turning white with fire.