Chapter 5

"Winter Moon"

Ice cracked and spiraled beneath her feet, leaving the fjord in a half-frozen state as she pushed herself toward the mountains. Her vision blurred. Hot tears streaming down her cheeks when her sister's desperate cry echoed through the vast expanse of the fjord.

Wind howled in her ears when she reached the other side. The North Mountain stood tall above the forest, grazing the dark clouds of the passing storm as the thunder became nothing but a distant shudder beneath her racing feet.

Heart pounding, she climbed a small, rocky incline. Its sharp edges cut at her numb, bare feet. Elsa gasped and nearly wailed in relief when she'd reached the top of the incline. Despite the ache in her legs and the tightness in her chest as she panted, she refused to halt.

There was no use in looking back when there was nothing to go back to.

Home wasn't in Arendelle.

Unless one described home as a place they would feel like a monster imprisoned.

Elsa ran until the sun had long set and moonlight streamed through the gaps between the trees, bathing her in its pale light.

She ran far enough into the forest where she'd begun her ascent and she could no longer see the tip of the North Mountain.

She gave a high-pitched cry when her toes got caught on the hem of her blue dress and she tripped, scraping her hands on the sharp rocks of the base of the mountain when she tried to break her fall.

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering.

She didn't have the strength to pull herself back to her feet.

Her tears soaked into the hard, cold ground as she collapsed onto her stomach, curling her fingers into the dirt; frosting over the weeds and flowers she'd flattened beneath her. When she'd opened her eyes, Elsa sat up, jerking her hands back, cradling them to her chest with wide eyes at the sight of the dead flowers.

With trembling lips, she shuddered and looked away.

This curse could only destroy.

After a few moments, Elsa exhaled and dared to open her palms. To inspect the smooth pale skin that manifested chills into her nightmares. She could see invisible scars. Scars that marred the perfect lines of her skin with the mistakes she'd made. Mistakes that could have costed lives and her freedom.

As Elsa stared at her hands with a fear she'd known since she was a child, she knew that she could never go back to Arendelle. Not like this. Not while control was far out of her reach. Not while her cursed fingers froze everything they touched.

It was better this way. Better to keep Anna safe.

Her sister had always been her priority. Without Anna, Elsa had nothing. No family. No one she could trust.

As Elsa rose to her feet, toes caked in dirt, she mused how it would be easier to just disappear. She had no purpose. This curse made sure she would never have one.

She lifted her head toward the dark sky, stars glinting above the North Mountain, next to the full, bright moon. The temptation to climb to the top of the mountain and drop to the ground passed through her mind; a mere thought that convinced her it would be quick and painless.

She took in a sharp breath and shook her head, forcing her dull gaze to focus on the ground as she started to walk.

No, she had to stay alive. If not for herself, then for Anna.

Even if she couldn't be near her, she could protect her sister from afar.

Her eyes stung at the thought of her sister. She would give anything to stay in Arendelle with her, to make sure she didn't get herself into trouble; keep her child-like innocence safe. Anna had a naivety that made her envious. Her little sister would drop anything for a chance to adventure, reckless as she was. Elsa could only wish she possessed that freedom.

While bravery and strength was in Anna's nature, it was not in Elsa's.

She could only hope her little sister didn't give chase. The dark forests were not safe, and with her control over her powers being so scarce, being near Anna was the last thing she needed.

The guilt would be too much to bear if she'd ever hurt Anna.

Elsa walked for what felt like hours, arms wrapped around herself and shoulders held up to her ears. The hem of her dress was caked in mud as the ground was wet from the harsh thunderstorm.

Despite the adrenaline still running the last of its course through her veins, she felt the muscles in her legs tighten, burning from the spontaneous exertion she'd put them through.

A wolf howled in the distance when she halted, gazing up at the North Mountain. Its rocky slopes were too steep for her to climb, and she was too exhausted.

After inclining her neck upward and staring at the frost-covered rocks, Elsa began to shuffle and scale the sides of the mountain until she found a small opening to a cave. She breathed a low sigh of relief at the sight of shelter and collapsed on her knees after squeezing herself through the narrow passage.

Moonlight streamed in through a crack, illuminating her hands in a silvery-glow. Elsa sobbed at the sight, hot tears cascaded down her cheeks, soaked up by the dirt. She bit her lip and furiously scraped her hands against the rocks, burying them into the mud until she could no longer see them.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the mud and gravel seep into her skin, freezing beneath her fingertips. The temperature in the cave dropped, spirals of ice creeping up the jagged walls. Breath ragged, Elsa jerked away, ripping her hands up from beneath the ground.

"No," she gasped, pulling at her hair. She stared at the ice, eyes widening as they curved toward her, jutting out from the rocks into sharp spikes. "No no no, stop!" she pleaded, holding out shaky hands as if to ward off an assaulter.

Elsa spun on her heels, heart pounding in her ears, breath constricted, spikes extending into a dangerous maze when she fell to her knees and curled her dirt-covered fingers into her hair. Jaw unhinged, tears frozen to her face, a ragged cry echoed into the darkness of the cave.

Curled into a ball surrounded by icicles, she didn't move for hours until an echoing whine filled her ears. Eyes blurry, Elsa lifted her head and creased her brows, scanning the darkness of the cave.

She sat up and wiped at her eyes, squinting at the thin entrance she'd used earlier; a white paw scraped at the gravel with another whine. After a moment, a black nose squeezed through, sniffing the frozen air before forcing the rest of its head in. Bright ice-blue eyes watched her curiously, head tilted as the wolf panted, its breath clouding.

Elsa froze, not daring to move a muscle as the animal assessed her. It whined again and pawed the ground, seeming to smile at her.

Elsa blinked, unsure if she should approach the white wolf or remain within her icy prison.

By the time she'd made the decision to move, the wolf had gone, like a ghost in the night that had brought the sunrise in its absence.

A single, distant, mournful howl calmed her enough to fall into a fitful sleep.

Her feet slid over cracks of ice, kicking up the remains of sand from the edge of the beach. She screamed her sister's name till her throat felt raw, but the wind carried away her words, whipping her braids across her face.

Rough hands tightened around her arms, yanking her back from the raging current. Anna struggled against his hold, turning on him even as hot tears burned her cheeks. She beat a fist on his chest, wrenching an arm free to reach out to Elsa's retreating form.

"Anna!" Fritjof hissed at her, his vice-like grip cutting off the circulation in her arm. He let out a frustrated growl against the howling wind at her resistance. "You can't go out there, it's too dangerous!"

As if she hadn't heard him, Anna collapsed to her knees and yelled for Elsa again, her voice cracking. It was only when she could no longer spot her retreating sister in the distance did her body go limp in Fritjof's grip.

The storm roared in her ears, carrying her tears into the ocean, mixing with the dark, raging waters.

Anna swallowed, her throat dry and raw.

She could taste salt on her lips.

Her hammering heart dropped to her stomach; a myriad of emotions swirled within her. A wave of nausea crashed over her and she fought the urge to retch in the sand. As she gagged, she felt apart of the storm-rising and falling with the waves, screaming with the wind. It was only a few minutes later-when she remembered to breathe-the pounding of her heart receded and, soon after, her stomach settled.

Fritjof and his warriors ushered Anna back into the Great Hall, out of the howling of the storm. They sat her by the fire and gave her a thick blanket as she vacantly stared into its depths. The flames licked the cold air and crackled. Its heat warmed her skin.

When Fritjof had left her side for a few moments, the men whispered behind her, but she paid no mind. Only then did she lift her gaze to settle upon the empty white-furred throne. A painful reminder that she was alone and her sister may never again grace the halls of their barren home.

After a few minutes, Fritjof joined her on the bench, resting his elbows on his knees. He idly swirled a horn filled to the brim with ale. Taking a sip, he sighed and offered it to her. Anna shook her head, pulling the wolf-furred blanket tighter around herself.

Fritjof merely shrugged and took a larger gulp, wiping the remnants of the drink from his lips. He cleared his throat and glanced at her sideways.

"Did you know?" he asked, his eyes burning through her.

She frowned, her watery eyes burned as she scrunched up her face. She dropped her head and stared at her lap, refusing to face him. How could she?

"No," she murmured and sniffed.

Fritjof grunted and tipped his head back, draining the alcohol from the horn.

"To think that's why she kept herself hidden," he continued, taking his eyes off her. She glanced up at him, the flickering of flames reflected in his dark eyes. "Tragic."

Anna held the edges of her blanket in a vice grip. The heat crawled up to her cheeks and she bit her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood. He spoke of Elsa as though she were an untamed animal. "I-It's not," she replied with a tremor in her low voice.

He turned to her, eyebrows creased in the middle of his forehead as he leaned his elbow on his leg.

"Hm?"

Anna gazed at him, absently licking the blood from her lips. She sat on her hands to hide how they shook; for she was no longer cold. Her heart hammered in her chest.

She thought of Elsa. Of how withdrawn she'd always seem, as if she no longer wanted the world to know of her existence. No matter how often Anna had reached out to her, Elsa would push her further away. Her sister may not have been physically imprisoned, but there were always walls separating them; forming a barrier of caution Anna never understood. Was never able to penetrate.

"Tragic. It's not tragic," she elaborated, her voice stronger now that she felt more confident. "Nothing about Elsa is tragic. She's just. . . scared. She'll come around, and when she does she'll rule over Arendelle as Jarl. Just like she's meant to do."

Fritjof hummed next to her, a tiny smile pulled at the corner of his lips, "Optimistic words, but in the end it's up to the gods to decide your sister's fate-and Arendelle's. Perhaps," he paused, brushing the growing stubble of his beard as if he were choosing his words wisely. "Perhaps Elsa isn't meant to rule Arendelle."

Anna stiffened. She glared at him.

"How can you say that?! Elsa was born to rule Arendelle!"

Fritjof shrugged at her outburst and tossed another log into the dying fire.

"Tell me, princess," he started, catching her wide gaze with his, "if Elsa was meant to rule Arendelle, then why did the gods curse her? Why did your parents hide her away-even from you-and instruct her to never use her powers? Did the gods not tell them so?"

Anna opened her mouth to retort but snapped her jaw shut, teeth clenching against her cheeks. She slumped in her seat and crossed her arms.

The silence between them grew palpable as Anna glared at the crackling fire. Then, she relented with a sigh, tears welling in her eyes.

"I-I don't know. . ."

For the first time, she questioned the true will of the gods-and cursed them.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Anna wandered aimlessly throughout the village. Merchants and farmers glanced her way as she passed, but neither said a word to her.

Rather, they were too preoccupied with her absent sister to bother.

Her eyes brimmed hotly, the demon on her shoulder whispering "spare" like a mantra in her ear nearly made her crumble to her knees.

But she moved on, pushing such poisonous thoughts into the back of her mind.

She halted before the fjord.

She stared in wonder at the snowflake ornate path of ice Elsa had left on the surface of the water in her wake.

Magic, her sister had magic.

Part of her was thrilled, but it was overshadowed by grief and confusion. The thorns of both pricking and tugging at her heart as she cradled a hand to her chest.

Had her parents known?

Why wasn't she told?

How long had her sister been able to freeze things with her fingertips?

Anna was jared from her thoughts when she overheard a pair's discussion behind her.

"Cursed by Frost Giants I tell you!"

"How long until she comes for us? Surely the gods won't allow her to take the throne," one replied.

They seemed to shudder at their own words, their wide eyes glancing out toward the North Mountain.

When they broke out of their trance, their hands tightened on their axes.

"We have to kill her before it's too late," one of them said with a shaky voice. The other man hissed at his side.

"Are you insane?! She'll destroy us before we get a chance!"

The other man fell silent, eyes searching the crowded village behind them.

"Fritjof," he finally said. "Fritjof will know what to do. We must look to him."

Tired of listening, Anna stalked off with a heavy heart, her eyes trained on her sand-covered boots. Hands balled into fists at her sides, nostrils flaring. Her throat tight and she sniffed, wiping at her burning eyes with the back of her hand.

Everyone lied to her.

Mama. Papa. Even Elsa.

Anna squinted her eyes. Her lips thinned, teeth gnawing into the insides of her cheeks when she fought the brimming in her eyes.

She dug the toe of her fur boots into the sand, burrowing a hole deep enough if she were to bury her throbbing heart.

She wanted to be angry. Should be angry. Furious. Seeing red was far more her nature than crumbling like a pathetic, weeping animal. A wounded bird who was never taught to fly.

A dry, soft whimper tumbled from her lips when she fell to her knees. Her wide eyes stared out past the fjord and locked onto the North Mountain.

She was still. So still she could hear the water lap against the docked boats and the soft cry of ravens in the distance.

Anna sighed and shifted on her knees when a blue glow caught her eye. The sand pulsed beside her, fading into a white-blue glow before darkening to a color that matched Elsa's magic.

Curious, she feathered the sand with her fingers and gasped.

Lying atop the shore was the crystal necklace Elsa always wore.

When she entered the Grand Hall, Fritjof was standing on the dais with three men at the foot. They were conversing in hushed whispers. One man shouldered his axe, twirling it between his fingers. The sharp silver of the blade catching the angry red embers of the fire behind them.

A shiver raced down her spin, like icy-hot claws raking down her back. She stood in the threshold with her arms at her sides. Her fingers curled around the blue crystal in a vice grip. Its rough edges pulsing ice-cold against her flesh.

As Anna wore the ice-crystal around her neck, Elsa's wide eyes and frail figure flashed in her mind, reminding her of nothing more than a frozen rabbit staring into the jaws of a wolf. People spoke of her sister as if she were an animal. Anna clenched her teeth, felt fire ignite in her veins. For a moment, she thought she saw Elsa's terror reflected within the shine of the warrior's blade.

How long before Elsa's blood stained the flawless steel?

Anna blinked out of her poisonous thoughts-which nearly drowned her heart-and cleared her throat, stepping toward Fritjof and the other three men in the room.

"What are you doing?" she quipped, though she sounded tired-her throat scratchy. Too much screaming perhaps.

Fritjof gave her a confused glance. A frown etched on his lips. The men shared similar glances with each other.

When they didn't answer, she elaborated:

"That's Elsa's throne, what are you doing on it?" she bit out.

Fritjof regarded her, a flash of understanding crossed his eyes.

"Elsa's not here," he stated, chin high. His hands folded behind his back. The men shifted beneath him, gripping their weapons tighter.

Anna stalked forward until she stood directly under him. Her burning eyes glaring up at him. He matched her with a cold gaze, calculating.

She fought the urge to shiver. This was not the carefree man she trained with.

"She'll come back. She was born to sit on that throne, not you!"

The men who towered over her chuckled, snorting as if laughing at an inside joke. Fritjof raised a hand to quiet them.

"She abandoned her right. She abandoned Arendelle in our time of need. She is no ruler, Anna. Your sister never was."

Anna clenched her teeth. Arms trembling at her sides.

"She was scared! She saved me! She risked everything for me! Even," Anna paused taking in a watery breath. "Even her freedom."

Fritjof remained on the dais, his hands clasped behind his back. His silence threatened to drown her as his eyes shifted from his warriors to her smaller figure. The familiarity she'd learn to take comfort from in her loneliness was gone. Instead, his eyes were hard; colder than Arendelle's harshest winters. Even with the bonfire blaring behind her, she was freezing.

Anna stood her ground with curled hands at her sides. Hot tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes, but through the blurriness, she fixed him with a glare. As if daring him to sit on that throne. A throne that wasn't his. Leadership he never deserved.

Elsa was supposed to be there in place of their parents.

"And what leadership has your sister shown Arendelle?" Fritjof stated, seemingly unfazed by Anna's indignation. He raised his arms, palms open, gesturing around the room. Warriors grunted and murmured agreements. He stepped down until he was on level ground with her. "In our time of need, she was absent. Months after the loss of our beloved Jarl, not only did she refuse to accept her role of leadership, but she kept her curse a secret. Didn't we deserve to know that our future leader possesses such abilities? Did you know?"

Anna swallowed. A tear track on her cheek betraying her, burning her skin.

She bowed her head.

"N-No. . .I-I didn't. . ." she choked.

Fritjof raised his arms and spoke louder, addressing the warriors in the room.

"How do we know she doesn't have ill-intentions towards Arendelle? How do we know she won't doom us to an eternal winter?!"

More warriors, men and women, filtered in-curious about the commotion, shouting agreements, raising an array of weapons above their heads.

"She's no goddess!"

"Frost Giant!"

"She'll kill us all!"

Anna's head shot up, turning to address the crowd behind her.

"No! Elsa would never- she's not-"

"Monster! We must rid ourselves of this Frost Giant spawn!"

Her heart hammered in her chest, Anna shifted on her toes, twisting around the room as the shouts echoed throughout the Grand Hall. She raised her voice, protesting and trying to ease their fears, but to no avail. No one cared to listen.

She was once again the spare that wandered the halls like a ghost, only this time, it was within a crowd who thought nothing of her but a child.

Once again, she felt alone. With no one who would even try to understand her.

When she glanced back to the dais, Fritjof had turned his back to her, ascending to the throne. In an instant, her blood boiled. She trembled and held her breath, nostrils flaring.

"Hunt her down!"

"By the gods, rid Arendelle of her before she rids of us!"

When Anna opened her mouth to protest, Fritjof raised a hand. The crowd quieted to whispers as all attention turned to him.

"No one will lead a hunting party to the North Mountain without my permission! She's dangerous, and we will need all the warriors we have here in Arendelle if she releases her frozen wrath upon us," Fritjof exclaimed, the tips of his fingers brushing the heavy fur that covered the throne. When he moved to sit, Anna shot forward, leaping onto the dais.

"No! Elsa wouldn't hurt a fly!" she shouted, eyes now dry as she caught Fritjof's gaze-she'd stopped him from sitting. A wave of relief washed over her at this small realization as she turned back to the crowd.

Anna paused. She wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt. She'd never addressed a crowd before.

"U-Um, hi. I. . ." she trailed off to clear her throat, face hot with embarrassment at her outburst. How did Elsa do this almost every day for her entire life? She inwardly shook her head, realizing none of this mattered when Elsa's life was at stake. She took in a breath and stood tall with her hands balled at her sides. "I'm Elsa's sister, I've known her my whole life. I-I know she would never hurt a fly. She's not like that, powers or not-"

"How do we know you're not lying to us?!" One man shouted, followed by other grunts and shouts of agreement.

"I-I can assure you that I'm not-"

"Are you a monster too?!"

"What? N-No! I'm just, I-I'm ordinary-"

"Silence!" Fritjof yelled over the crowd. All eyes turned to him.

Anna swallowed, a pang of shame and discomfort clouding over her. How could she ease anyone's fears if they didn't respect her? How could she have been so blind to not notice how respected Fritjof was? She cursed herself when she felt her eyes brim once more. Did she even belong here? Did she belong anywhere? Not even her own sister trusted her enough to tell her about her ice magic.

"I can assure you that Anna is not like her sister," he explained. The men and women who resided within the Grand Hall bled a relieved energy. And Anna was invisible again. "Everyone will stay here. We will prepare for an Eternal Winter. And I assure you, if Elsa returns to Arendelle, she will be met with an army and be dealt with! If I have to, I will slay her myself!"

"What?! No!" Anna protested, eyes wide and mouth unhinged in muted horror. She made to leap toward Fritjof, but the crowd shoved her back, congesting near the steps to the throne with weapons raised.

Anna pushed against the crowd, attempting to force her way through a small opening. She shouted and shoved, but no one glanced her way. Her voice died out, lost within the commotion at Fritjof's feet.

Alone she watched Arendelle's warriors raise their weapons to the ceiling and shout. The bloodlust in their eyes made her shiver and she glanced out to the open double doors of the Grand Hall.

The North Mountain was illuminated by the full moon.

Elsa was out there. Alone and afraid.

Anna clenched her teeth, her blood boiling at the thought of these men hunting her sister like an animal.

The room moved around her in a blur as she gripped the hilt of the closest warrior's sword-the man shouted at her, but she ignored him-and pushed through the crowd with a strength she'd never known she had.

With hot tears blurring her vision, Anna leaped. She landed on the dais with a heavy thud. With a deep frown, she glared at Fritjof and pointed the sharp edge of the sword at his heart.

"Fritjof, I, Anna of Arendelle, challenge you for the throne in the name of my sister!"

A/N: Long time no see. So sorry for the long wait on this chapter! Grad school is a pain and then I went to Disney and saw Frozen on Broadway. But here is the long awaited next chapter. Quite a bit is going on, but I hope it was still worth the wait. Please please review, I'm so curious about your thoughts and it keeps me going! Writing is such a hard discipline, especially to keep motivating one's self to write! (And I get motivated faster when people tell me their thoughts and are excited for the next chapter).