I can't believe it's been a month since I posted the first part of this. I am the worst, and I am sorry. I had one crazy winter break, but I most assuredly am back now. That said, I've really enjoyed reading your lovely reviews. I hope you enjoy this next bit almost as much as the first. Thanks to reviewer Jasmin King for requesting this scene. I appreciate your interest~

The wind nipped at every exposed inch of Kristoff's skin, but he was far too numb to notice. Snowy hair was plastered against his forehead, sweat turning to frost as it dripped from his brow.

His heart was beating rapidly, pulsing in rhythm with one solitary thought: An-na. An-na. An-na.

The air was thick with ice and snow, gusts limiting Sven's range of motion as they barreled down the mountain side. Kristoff urged him on, acutely aware that despite their combined effort, they could only go so fast. And it wasn't nearly fast enough. Arendelle had already been lost completely in a cloud of billowy white; only the docks on the fjord were visible, marked by the tall masts of ice-coated ships.

As Sven reached the mountain's foot, Kristoff felt a surge of guilt. He could have done something- anything. He could have stayed with her.
The kiss hadn't broken the curse; therefore, what Anna and Hans shared couldn't have been true love. On some level, the notion pleased Kristoff, but it mostly made him sick. For he was the one that had staked Anna's life on it.

The snow only seemed to grow denser as Sven leapt across the fjord. They were close now, relatively speaking. He wasn't quite sure what the quickest route to Anna was, considering the palace's immense size. They ducked under falling debris as they traversed the ice, close enough now to see the gates peeking out in the distance.

The ice was breaking off in chunks now. Sven lost his footing where the ice was weak, and Kristoff felt a jolt as he was thrown across a divide. He watched, stricken, as Sven disappeared into the frigid water. Kristoff paused, his heart threatening to pound out of his very ribcage. An-na. An-na. An-na.

He gave it four seconds; much to his relief, it was all he needed. Sven's head emerged from between several blocks of ice, nodding in approval as Kristoff took off on foot, faster than his legs had ever carried him before. His entire body thrummed with adrenaline. He hardly breathed, didn't even hesitate to think what he would do when he found her. Kiss her? Kristoff was sure he loved her, but he couldn't be so presumptuous to assume she felt the same simply because she didn't love Hans. No matter, it hardly seemed a risk. What was putting his own pride on the line, if it meant saving Anna?

Hail and freezing rain beat mercilessly against Kristoff's face as he ran, until suddenly it didn't. He slowed to a halt, confused as to how the storm had ended so abruptly. Arendelle was no less frozen than it had been, but as if by a miracle, the air had cleared. It had cleared so much, in fact, that he could make out a small figure bundled in a pink cape, two white plaits poking out from beneath her hat.

She was still a good deal away, perhaps 50 yards. But he could hear her call his name, low as a whisper, as it echoed across the fjord.
His mouth stood agape, his voice hoarse from shouting her name down the mountain, through the docks. Without another moment's hesitation, he took off at a sprint.

Freezing tears stung at the corners of his eyes. He was so close. And yet- she looked much too frail already. Her hands were blue up to her wrists, and her hair had not a single strand of auburn. She was shaking violently, inching towards him at a snail's pace, her eyes heart-wrenchingly hopeful.
Was she really so sure he could save her? Did that mean-

Hope just the tiniest bit renewed, Kristoff's strides grew longer; he panted faster.
He had almost reached her now. Forty feet turned to thirty, then twenty. Kristoff's heart kept pace as he worked to close the gap between them An-na. An-na. An-na.

But then, with a sad glance in his direction, she turned. It was unclear why at first. Not until she started running, far in the opposite direction, did Kristoff see it.
Queen Elsa was crouched on the icy ground, a man in regal outerwear looming over her with a drawn sword. Kristoff wracked his brain, trying to recount the members of the royal family. But these robes didn't bear the palace's crest, nor did they look as though they came from Arendelle at all. Could this be Hans? The more Kristoff watched him, the more certain he felt that he was. His chest burned with anger as though of what Anna must have suffered. What she was suffering now.

She was almost there now, pushing forward with the little force she could muster, her face sad and strained.
Kristoff stood paralyzed in place. He should chase after her, he thought, but somehow it felt wrong. He couldn't say why, exactly- it just did. Instead he gaped, useless, as Anna threw herself in front of Hans's sword, deep blue ice spreading up from her toes through her limbs and torso. The sword shattered at the touch of Anna's hand as the ice overtook her completely.

Kristoff's feet moved of their own accord, until he was just beside Anna and her sister, who hung sobbing off Anna's still form. Sven joined him, eyes wide and sad. It felt like days, months, maybe years that the four of them stood there, quietly grieving. He worried that he might be imposing, but he wasn't sure Elsa was even aware of his presence. He wondered what it must feel like for her, when he- who had known Anna just a few short days- felt so darkly, deeply empty.
A gentle breeze broke the stillness of the air, ruffling Kristoff's hair as though to call him to attention. He kept his eyes cast solemnly at the ground, hardly able to stand on shaking legs.

Then Sven nudged him in the side.
Very slowly, he looked up.
And he saw it.

The ice was thawing, warmth growing outward from Anna's chest, just beside her heart. Kristoff's own heart rose slowly from where it had settled in the pit of his stomach, one again poised to beat right out of his chest. Anna started, gasping for air and throwing her arms around her sister.
It took everything Kristoff had not to take Anna into his own arms; to touch her, to kiss her. Still, seeing her safe felt enough for now.

He caught himself smiling broadly, feeling- for once- at peace as he watched the sisters' teary reunion.
It was their moment, he reminded himself. The time that followed was his to breathe, to release the tension of the last several hours. It was a blur of fear, of ice and snow, but Kristoff could say one thing for certain. He truly, wholly, undeniably loved Princess Anna of Arendelle.

AUTHOR NOTE: I think this will be the last strictly canon drabble in this series. I'd like to add a few post-movie chapters in here as well. I already have a few ideas, but I would love suggestions, should you have them :)