Present Day

...

It wasn't even noon when that first arrow nearly pierced Elsa's heart, the image flashing through her mind relentlessly. It was too close a call this time. It was too close to home. She didn't, however, let her thoughts deter her pace and aggressive stride down the musky dungeons of her palace.

Her hair whipped about, dancing aggressively as she strutted her feet with each click against cobblestone. She tightened her jaw every so often when frost threatened to spread under her steps, knuckles turning white as she struggled to keep herself in check. An internal battle that she couldn't always win under her own discretion if she could help it.

She never had an easy temper, finding it harder to hold back the further down she went. This reaction was normal now, anger seeping through her bones as the world made her cynical. In all honesty, she was upset with herself. Upset with her mind, unwilling to let go of painful memories that always bubble up at the slightest connection to danger.

The queen's eyes held a piercing gaze, so blue they might as well've been hand plucked from the sky. Those cold orbs scanned the dark hall, narrowing as she approached the only occupied cell. She hesitated, regarding the sullen form chained to the wall from behind bars. This wasn't the first time she had to handle interrogations, her methods were... effective, to say the least.

It was hard to discern the slouched, sleeping figure from afar. The first thing she did notice, though even in the poor lighting, was a striking shade of ginger atop their head. With a deep breath, she unlocked the cell and stepped inside.

The creak of metal roused them but not enough to wake up the lithe sleeping form.

So she sent a sharp wind up the prisoner's back with a flick of her finger, forcing a groan in annoyance. Elsa's ears twitched at the sound of woman, moaning as she lolled her head. Sore wrists tugged against the thick clasps of metal as the woman realized her surroundings and predicament with a heavy sigh.

Elsa slid down in a crouch with her arms hanging over her knees almost lazily; baby blues waiting expectantly as the prisoner slowly acknowledged that she was not alone. When their eyes finally met, the queen was awestruck if only for a moment. She'd never seen such abundance of green in a single pair of eyes. She could've been wrong, the light was still weak, but her eyes were quite the sight.

It wasn't a surprise to her, a woman was in her dungeons... but for some reason she didn't expect such a pretty face.

Then the woman smiled, the small scar on her upper lip dragging Elsa's gaze away from her evergreen eyes for a moment before they met again. Elsa fought not to smile too, after all, this woman supposedly tried to kill her.

Then she spoke. "Hi there... It's been a while, hasn't it?" the woman said lightly, voice tender and low.

The informality didn't bother her but the recognition in her tone did. Elsa couldn't help but notice the splay of freckles that posed like constellations on her face.

Whatever anger Elsa held before was now replaced with curiosity, the cool winds receding the longer she regarded the redhead in front of her. "I'm afraid I don't know who you are," a response as gentle as the woman's question.

"I was hoping you'd remember, then again, I was much more cleaned up when you last saw me," she chuckled and Elsa admired her optimism. "Did you know it takes around seven seconds to reload a crossbow, on average?"

This was slowly becoming the oddest interrogation she's ever had to deal with… and she wasn't even asking questions yet. The woman's voice was casual, watching Elsa grow confused. She found it amusing.

"You were lucky it took the assassin ten before I got to him."

Now the blonde was really confused, "You say that as if-"

"I'm not the person you're looking for, there's been a bit of a misunderstanding here."

Elsa thought this over, "Surely, you can see why it's hard to believe you when you were at the scene holding the crossbow."

"Yeah, it wouldn't be my first run in with bad luck..."

She shook her head with a sad smile, "Look, Elsa, you're the only one who can help me right now and I think it's only fair considering I saved your life. Before anything else, you need to know who I am, who I really am. Promise you won't freak out, okay?" She asked softly, waiting for the blonde to nod in agreement just for the sake of answers.

The prisoner released a tense breath, "My name... is Anna Westergaard of the Southern Isles."

Elsa's eyes widened as she stood abruptly, her feet pulling her away from the woman in shock. Her mind was on overdrive, muscles instantly tense as she understood the weight of her confession. She hadn't seen or really heard from that family name in years.

This woman was supposed to be dead.

Anna bit her lip anxiously at Elsa's bewildered expression. "You don't believe me."

Elsa scoffed, "With claims like that, it's a little difficult."

"I wouldn't really be telling you if it wasn't getting me out of this cell... and I've trusted you in keeping it to yourself. Please, Elsa." The urgency in her voice already had Elsa's heart drop to her stomach. The way her eyes begged couldn't have been more of a truth and the longer Elsa searched her face for any inkling of a lie, the more terrified she grew. She couldn't see the farce within her words and that was a problem.

She didn't linger any longer, slamming the cell behind her as she rushed to her study. Once inside, she searched through countless dusty ledgers neatly set on an intricate mahogany shelf until she found the right one. The Royal Family of the Southern Isles.

Too anxious to sit, she shifted through several pages where she stood until she found herself eyeing the names of the Westergaard siblings. Alec. Elijah. James. Markus. Maverick. Henrik. Kristoff. Augustus. Ivan. Niklaus. Harvy. Lawrence. Hans. Anna.

Anna Westergaard.

She skimmed past the other siblings, eyes darting to the princess. Her life was short-lived, the ledger only briefing through recorded events before she disappeared around seven years ago. Everyone thought her dead, they even held a proper burial to pay their respects.

Her interest piqued as she glanced at the last portrait taken of the princess at the bottom of the page. She was younger then but the image mimicked the woman in her dungeon. Reddish hair, freckles, endless green eyes… even the age seemed to add up. Then she saw it, the small yet present scar over her top lip... the same scar as the prisoner. It checked out.

The longer Elsa looked at the image the more she tried to think back when she last saw her, finding it difficult to recall anything from so long ago and at such a young age. She didn't ever know the girl but rather knew of her. And yet, Anna seemed to know her very well. The way she talked to her was like catching up with an old friend. She didn't know what to make of it... and Anna's trial is tomorrow.

She still needed answers but at least there was one thing confirmed.

The lost Westergaard princess is in her dungeon... on counts of treason against the Queen of Arendelle.

A/N: I'm rewriting this story to give it justice, my writing wasn't ready for a story so dear to my heart but now I can at least make it less cringy. If you're new, welcome and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter updated: 11/14/17