Anna didn't remember falling asleep. The last thing she recalled was watching Kristoff head out of the castle gates for the second time and then sitting on the bed next to her sister. Next thing she knew she was laying on her side brushing a lock of Elsa's platinum hair off her nose and squinting into the low burning fire. Blinking as her eyes adjusted, Anna looked over at her sister's sleeping form, chest rising and falling in a rhythmic patter. Judging from how dark the sky was beyond the tall triangular window, it had to be around two or three in the morning. Anna groaned softly, snuggling close to her sister and burying her face in the crook of her neck.
"You're safe," Anna whispered against her sister's skin, a small smile pulling at her lips. She knew Elsa was in one of those deep, dreamless sleeps the Physician often spoke of when dealing with someone who had been gravely wounded. It was her body's way of making sure she healed, and Anna made sure she was as quiet as possible so as to not disturb her.
She was about to drift back to sleep, the stress of the last few hours finally leaving her, when the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly prickled. Eyes flying open, the princess froze, unsure what had alerted her but unable to shake the feeling that something was amiss. Slowly, she jacked herself up on her elbow and turned to face the whole of the room behind her. Dancing orange ghost lights flashed across her vision and she cursed quietly, temporarily night blind from looking into the fire. Rubbing her eyes, Anna again squinted into the darkness. A shadow dislodged from the wall and she barely had time to draw breath to scream before a vice-like hand caught her around her throat and squeezed. She felt the wicked tip of a knife press into her neck and froze.
"One word, little princess, and you'll be wearing a red smile, ear to ear," a husky voice raped.
Had Anna been thinking rationally she would have remained still until the man with the knife tired of her and moved away, but she wasn't about to let him move. Her left hand swung around and connected with what felt like the assassin's mouth. She felt teeth scrape her knuckles and winced. The man gave a startled yelp and tumbled away, taking the knife with him. Anna didn't realize how lucky her strike had been as she slid from the bed in a tangle of covers, thrashing against the floor until she was able to get her feet under her. Had the assassin been holding the knife with his right hand he would have automatically slit her throat as he fell. Anna didn't think about any of this as she planted herself firmly between the man with the knife and her helpless sister.
"You're not touching my sister!" Anna seethed, rage replacing fear. There wasn't a snowballs chance in hell he was getting anywhere near Elsa.
The assassin jumped to his feet, lips covered in blood. He spat once and cleared away the rest of the red stain with the back of his hand. "Little palace bitch, you're going to pay for that."
Anna kept her mouth closed and focused on the man. He was bigger than the last assassin in the square, broad through the shoulders and big in the arms. Around his waist hung a short curved scabbard with two small belt knives shoved into sheaths on either side of the sword. He was holding one of those knives, twirling the blade as he approached the princess, but, unbeknownst to this poor fool, Anna wasn't as helpless as she appeared.
After the Great Freeze and the incident with Hans on the frozen fjord, Anna had taken it upon herself to learn as much as she could about hand-to-hand combat and self-defense. At first no one would even humor her, not even the guards. Their rebukes had been gentle but she'd sensed the sneers in their voice and saw the laughter in their eyes.
"Fighting should be left to the men, Highness. Don't trouble yourself. We're here to protect you."
Even Kristoff had balked at the idea of teaching his fiancé anything about grappling but eventually relented after Anna's insisting became a daily irritation. But the lessons were halfhearted and usually ended with a flustered Anna and a giggling Kristoff. He just couldn't take it seriously. It wasn't until Captain Revel got wind of the princess's intentions that he approached her one quiet evening while she tended to her horse in the stables and offered to show her a few things under the cover of darkness.
"We cannot be seen, Highness. It is unfit for a Lady such as yourself to be seen grappling with an unmarried man, much less one of your royal guards, but I know why you want to learn. I will teach you what I know."
That had been the beginning of the friendship between Anna and the young Captain. She'd sneak off after the staff had gone to bed and meet Revel in the training chamber at the base of the guard tower. There he had taught her the basics of ground grappling, being careful never to be improper and watching where he placed his hands. He taught her hand-to-hand combat, some sword play, knife fighting and a few flashy moves he'd learned from an Oriental trader. Two years they'd sparred nearly every evening, and Anna felt Revel's lessons flooding back as she watched the assassin approach with a predatory gleam in his eyes.
The man struck first, slashing at Anna with his blade, but he was putting too much weight on the balls of his feet and leaning to far forward, making him unbalanced. The princess jumped back, blade whistling past her, and delivered a solid blow to his right cheek. Before the assassin could recover, Anna stepped to the left away from the blade, grabbed the man's wrist, planted her leg behind his left knee and pulled. The effect was instant and the assassin was thrown to the ground, tumbling across the floor until his momentum slowed, knife lost. Anna could have whooped with joy, Revel would have been proud of that throw, had the man not scrambled to his feet with a look of utter rage contorting his face. With a swift tug, he drew his sword. He didn't give any taunts or sneers, just launched into a blinding flurry of attack.
Anna ducked and blocked where she could, the two dancing around the bedchamber for what seemed like hours until the assassin managed to break the princess's defenses and strike her across the left cheek with the butt of his cutlass. Anna spun with the force of the blow, light exploding behind her eyes, and had just enough time to stumble away from a thrust that probably would have put the blade through her stomach and out her back. Instinct moving faster than her mind, she whirled to the side, locking her hip with his as she grabbed hold of his bladed hand and yanked. With nowhere for his arm to go, and his elbow only able to bend so far, the assassin was forced to drop his cutlass or risk Anna snapping his arm at the joint.
"One step closer and I'll—"
Anna felt the assassin's leg snake around hers before he twisted, throwing her in one direction while her leg remained planted. She heard an audible snap seconds before the pain set in and she wilted, breath leaving her lungs. Anna found her voice a second later and screamed, white hot agony racing up her leg. The assassin, seeming unperturbed, straightened and drew his second knife. Anna watched him through watery eyes as he calmly walked towards her. His booted foot snapped out before she could avoid it and connected with her stomach, driving the air from her body in a pained wheeze. Anna was sure she'd felt a few ribs fracture under the blow but was unable to do much else other than whimper on the floor. Slowly, the assassin turned back to his original purpose in the room, a sick smile showing off his yellow teeth.