TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY.

WHATTTTTT.

THIS IS CRAZY!

HOPE YALL ENJOY!

xoxo,

OceansAria :)

Anna was led up a flight of stairs (that took a little while with the way she now waddled), down many different winding halls, and into a crumbling throne room. On the throne sat a hideous man with scaly green skin; eerie yellow eyes like a snake's; and a wickedly insane grin. His hair fell to his jaw in wily, greasy waves—but other than that, he was dressed like a gentleman, in an embroidered vest, puffy shirt, breeches and tall leather boots.

No, not a man, but a monster in a man's body.

"Took you long enough, dearie," the monster-man's voice sounded like bells dancing in the wind. He stood and bowed the moment she arrived at the foot of the throne. The bandit holding her forced her to her knees, growling at her to kneel. The princess glared at him but ducked her head in faux respect for the monster-man.

"What do you want?" she growled, raising her head to face the monster-man.

He tut-tutted at her. "Why, dearie, why you are jumping to such conclusions?" He giggled crazily. "We hardly know each other! Why would I want anything from you?"

"Why else would you have brought us here?" the princess challenged. She was barely keeping her temper curbed.

"Before I answer any of your questions, dearie, I think we should introduce ourselves." He twisted his hands around in a merry little motion. "R-R-Rumplestilskin, happy to make your acquaintance!" He announced himself grandly.

"Rumplestilskin?" Anna gasped out. "I've heard of you and all of your terrible deeds! B-But I didn't think you were actually real . . ."

"Ah, but I am very real, dearie," Rumplestilskin purred. He bent and took her chin in his hands. "Now, what's your name?"

"You already know," Anna sassed.

He dug his fingernails—quite long for a man's—into her skin. "Don't fight me, love. There's no point in it. Nobody's ever won against me."

A quiver went down her spine. "Fine. I'm Princess Anna of Arendelle. Happy now?" Anna jerked her chin from his hands, which made him chortle in delight.

"Fiesty, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I like feisty." Rumplestilskin began to pace in front of her. "I'm sure your dear husband loves that about you, too."

"Yes."

"That and your beautiful strawberry blonde hair."

"Yes." One word answers were all she could muster without losing her temper and attacking him. She knew it would do nothing for her.

"All the same traits your child is to have."

Fear strangled her temporarily. "W-What?" She wheezed out. She instinctively wrapped an arm around her stomach. "What are you saying?"

"Your child." He pointed to her womb. "It's a boy. He looks just like your husband, but with your hair color." Rumplestilskin laughed at her awestruck expression. He then pointed to his head. Smirking, he answered her silent question. "I can see the future, dearie."

Anna shook herself out of her daze of picturing the little boy the monster-man had described. "You're lying. No one can see the future except for the trolls."

"Aha, but you're wrong." He stopped his pacing to stand in front of her. "I do not lie." Anna raised an eyebrow, knowing his history. "At least not about this."

"Why are you telling me this?" Anna pulled her cloak tighter around her, as the chill of the stone beneath her crept into her skin and bones. What she wouldn't give to be back in her room, in front of the roaring fire, wrapped in goosedown quilts. Why did she ever want to leave the safety of her room?

"Because." The monster-man stooped once more to her level. But this time, he didn't need to touch her to strike fear in her heart. "I want something from you."

"I thought you said you didn't want anything from me," Anna said.

"And I thought you knew better than to think I told the truth!" he cried, laughing manically. Settling back into his throne, he crossed his legs and relaxed. "Now, dearie, let's strike a deal."

Kristoff's head whipped up when the pit's hidden metal door swung open an hour later. Out from it spilled his wife, clutching her cloak to herself as she was pushed to the ground.

"Anna!" He rushed to her, cursing at the bandits as he sunk to the ground and pulled her against him. He only hugged her for a split second before he began pushing up her sleeves and prodding her. "Did they hurt you? Are there any bruises? Scratches? I swear, if I even find one itty bitty sore spot, I'm gonna to wring all of their necks—"

"I'm fine, Kristoff," Anna mumbled, uncharacteristically pushing him off of her. Her voice sounded tiny and meek. "They didn't hurt me. I'm fine."

Her husband reached for her again. "Anna, tell what happened up there—"

"Don't touch me!" she screeched. She kept her back turned, her chin tipped against her chest. Anna wouldn't look any of them in the eyes. She could feel his wounded gaze on her. "I would just like to be left alone for a while, if you please."

Cal and the other three men stared at her, wondering what in the world had happened to make the princess so stand-offish. Kristoff, feeling defeated, sat back on his heels. His mouth hung agape. She hadn't shut him out like this since the time he told her that her favorite dress didn't look good with her reddish hair. "O-Okay," he stammered. He rose and rejoined the men on the other side of pit, leaving his wife be.

For the remainder of the evening, the men chatted quietly among themselves of an escape plan. The bandits served them "dinner", also known as a couple of slices of moldy bread. Kristoff tried to urge Anna to eat the better parts he'd picked off the bread for her, but she still refused to speak to him. "C'mon, Anna, you need to eat. You need your strength," he urged. She wasn't having it.

By the time night fell and the bandits distinguished the torches above their heads, he still hadn't given up.

Anna struggled to get comfortable on her side on the stone floor with the only cushion a bit of hay. As she grunted and wriggled, she abruptly felt the warmth of another body behind her. She lie still as he gently helped her maneuver her head to his thick, muscular arm for more comfort. Then he shielded her back with his torso, wrapping an arm across her swollen waist, providing body heat that felt like a bonfire. Her shivers almost immediately stopped.

"Goodnight," he whispered in her ear; his hurt was very apparent in his tone.

She gave in, but just barely. Snuggling against him, she muttered: "Goodnight."

Soon, he drifted off to sleep—as well as all of the other men. Kristoff's thunderous snores filled her with ease and familiarity. But the minute she knew she was finally alone, she let the sobs rack her frail body, remembering Rumplestilskin's horrible speech.

You will stay here, locked up, until you give birth. And then, if you do exactly as I ask and hand the child over to me, you and your friends can all go free. But remember, dearie, no one has ever beat me. So don't try anything or I will kill everyone you love.

So make your choice wisely.

The ringing of the church bells in the distance startled the queen out of her deep conversation with Prince Lachlan. They'd been chatting about books and philosophy for what felt like five minutes when Elsa realized that the time was well into the evening—five o'clock, to be exact. Where had the afternoon gone?

She sprung to her feet, startling Lachlan. "I have to go!"

"What?" He grabbed her forearm. "Where? What's the emergency?"

"My sister," Elsa huffed. "And my brother-in-law. He went up the mountains a couple of days ago after some of the men that work for him who were captured by bandits . . . and my insane, extremely pregnant little sister who is as stubborn as a mule decided that she needed to go after her husband!"

Prince Lachlan stared at her like she was just as crazy as Anna.

Elsa blinked. "Sorry. I'm just worried about her. I was supposed to leave to find her and bring her home today . . . but then you arrived . . ." Her cheeks turned darker than the roses surrounding them. "I'm sorry. That was very rude of me to say. I must go." She turned to rush off again, but he once again held her back.

"Elsa, you can't leave this late in the evening!" he cried, his eyebrows knitted together. "It will be getting dark soon. There's wolves and bears and even more bandits that could hurt you."

The Queen's heart resounded throughout her body—she could feel it in her wrists and behind her ears. He sounded so genuinely afraid for her well-being. "My sister needs me, Lachlan. I shut her out for thirteen years and she still sacrificed herself for me. I'm not going to let her, my brother-in-law, and my unborn niece or nephew die up on that God-forsaken mountain," she growled out, using her regal voice. Yanking her arm out of his grasp, she said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way."

He ran and stopped in front of her, blocking her path.

"Listen to me, milady." The prince urged. "I understand your love for your sister and wanting to save her. But the wisest thing to do is wait until first light."

Elsa simply pushed past him, continuing to the garden's French doors ahead.

"And to take an escort who can protect you with you on your journey," He said, emphasizing the who by gesturing to himself and wiggling his eyebrows as she turned back to face him once more.

Stunned, the Queen stared at him. She tried to measure him up, see if he was being true.

"You would risk your life for a Queen, a pregnant princess, and a mountain man that you barely know?" she asked incredulously.

Lachlan grinned that heart-stopping smile. His eyes lit up. Stepping forward, he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "If you do not trust in my word, then let me come with you and show you with my actions."

For just a moment, she struggled with her decision.

"Fine," she barked, snatching her hand back, which caused him to chuckle. "Pack your bags. We have no idea how long it might take to find them. We leave for the Southern Mountain at dawn." She turned around for the third time and made her way to the doors.

"I'll have the stables prepare my horse," Lachlan called after her.

She subtly smiled to herself, before wiping her face clean and heading straight her chambers to get her things together.

We're coming, Anna.

Kristoff woke up to find his wife gone. Frightened, he immediately rolled to his feet and glanced around, just to find her huddled against the wall—the wall furthest away from him.

Agony ripped through his chest. Why does she suddenly hate me? The other men were awake as well, sitting in a tight little circle, muttering among themselves. Kristoff huffed as he joined them, irritated with the entire situation. I'm her husband, for crying out loud! Why won't she just talk to me? Was what they talked to her about really that bad?

Glancing over at her, he caught her staring at him. She held his gaze for only a moment before shifting her eyes back to the ground at her feet.

"Kristoff," Vladimir was calling his name. The older man shook his shoulder roughly. "Earth to Kristoff."

"Huh?" Kristoff refocused his gaze to the men around him. "What'd I miss?"

Holly lowered his voice. "We have pretty good news."

That caught his attention. "What news?"

Cal said, "Princess Anna said that they didn't want money. She said that they're going to let us go!" He was grinning in his boyish way from ear to ear.

"Then what do they want from us? They aren't just going to let us go without receiving some type of payment."

Evan shrugged his enormous shoulders. "We've no idea. She wouldn't say anything more." They all snuck a look at the princess. "Maybe she'll talk to you."

Kristoff shook his head. "No. Remember yesterday? Anna acts like I have the plague. She won't talk to me. Not about anything."

"Oh, c'mon," Vladimir scoffed in a whisper. "You're her husband. You've got to know some way to get your wife to speak to you."

"Yeah," Evan added. "With my wife, it's always tickling."

They all looked at him. Kristoff stuttered, "T-Tickling? You tickle your wife to get her to talk to you." It wasn't a question. It was a disbelieved statement.

"Sure," Evan said, as it this were normal. "Her ribs are pretty sensitive, so I always give them a little tickle and she gives in."

"I don't think Kristoff could get to Anna's ribs right now," Holly said. "Her belly is pretty big."

All of them sat in silence for a moment, thinking hard. Finally, Kristoff stood and brushed off the butt of his pants. "I guess I'll figure it out. She's never been good at giving me the silent treatment for a long time, anyway."

Evan opened his mouth.

"And no, I am not tickling my wife to get her to talk to me," Kristoff cut him off. Evan's face fell as the prince consort stomped off.

Holly nudged Evan. "Does it really work?"

Evan nodded, all seriousness. "Even when I accidentally gambled away almost all of our money. A little oochie-goochie on her belly and she forgave me instantly."

"Wow," Holly murmured in awe.

Vladimir and Cal rolled their eyes.

"Anna?"

The princess acted as if she hadn't heard him and huddled closer to the wall, clutching her abdomen. Silent tears rolled down her pale cheeks. Even her freckles had faded a little.

"Anna, please, I beg you. Talk to me."

She shook her head stubbornly. "Go away."

He didn't. Anna listened as he sat down a couple feet away from her; could feel him looking at her with hurt and sadness and yearning. The only sounds were the crackling of the torches above and the murmurings of the men.

"Um, the guys told me that you talked to them," Kristoff said softly, shakily. "They said that the bandits were going to let us go. And that they didn't want any money."

Silence.

Kristoff had to force the question out of himself. "W-What do they want then, Anna?"

She wouldn't respond. It was like she'd shut down completely. He could see her body trembling from where he sat; he could see despair dripping off of her in waves. Scooting forward, he touched her arm, but she once again pulled away from him as if his simple touch burned her.

"Anna, please. Look at me, sweetheart." They hardly ever used endearments. But desperate times called for desperate measures. "Look at me." His tone was demanding now. "I swear to God, if you don't talk to me . . ." he trailed off, so angry he felt like he was going to cry. The tension in the air couldn't have been cut with a pickaxe. Slowly, achingly, the princess turned to look into her husband's gentle golden brown eyes. Her eyes were absolutely heartbroken; her lower lip quivered and her cheeks were soaked. He reached out and stroked her bangs away from her eyes.

"My God. What did they want?" Kristoff whispered in terror, seeing the haunted look on his wife's face. She looked like she'd seen her parents' ghosts.

Finally breaking, Anna took his hand from her face and placed it on her stomach. His eyes glanced between her face and her womb.

"He."

"What?"

"Rumplestilskin. He wants our child." Anna burst into further tears. "H-He said i-if I didn't d-do as h-he said that h-he'd kill everyone I l-loved!"

"He wants our baby?" Kristoff asked, in utter shock. Enmity filled him to the very tips of his fingers. No one was going to take his child away from him. "Why on earth would he want our baby?"

"I-I don't know!" She sobbed.

Realizing she needed more comfort than he was giving, he kissed her forehead and hugged her close, rocking her back and forth soothingly. "Don't worry, Anna. We're going to get out of here, baby and all. I'm not going to let that monster hurt you or our child."

All she could do in reply was nuzzle deeper into his arms. If only you were right, she thought.