The Next Unknown

13 – Terrified or Tense

OoOoO

Oskar shouted something, but all Anna heard was the terrible scream. She whipped around in time to see Sven darting aside as Mattias's horse crashed to the ground, legs kicking wildly. Time seemed to freeze as Anna stared, unable to make sense of the bizarre sight. Had Mattias tried to dismount and overbalanced both himself and his horse? Why wasn't he getting up?

"Anna!" Oskar grabbed her as she started forward. His fingers dug into her shoulder, and she was about to tell him he was hurting her when he shouted, "You have to go!"

"But Mattias—"

The horse had stopped thrashing. Now it only… lay there, chest fluttering feebly. Then Anna noticed the feathered shaft protruding from the side of its neck. The black fur around it glistened, and it wasn't until the first drop of red dripped onto the dirt that Anna processed what Oskar had shouted moments earlier.

Archers.

"You have to go," Oskar urged again. There was something different about the look in his eyes as he surveyed the surrounding trees, alert. Unerringly collected. "Anna, snap out of it! We're under attack!"

This couldn't really be happening, could it? Assassins? After her?

The next right thing.

"Go," Anna breathed. "We'll be right behind you."

"What? Oh no, don't you dare—"

She slapped Miska hard on the rump. The frightened pony lurched forward, carrying off Oskar's yells of protest.

Anna turned and ran. A nearby tree exploded in splinters. Choking down a cry, she kept her head down and sprinted. Don't trip, Anna. Don't you dare trip.

She dove behind the fallen horse. The bolt had missed Mattias, but that didn't mean anything when he was lying motionless on his side.

"No, no, no. Mattias? Can you hear me?" Anna's hands fluttered helplessly over his chest. Then she saw it rise and fall, and let out a cry of relief.

He must have simply hit his head on the way down—not that anything about this crazy situation was simple. But Anna would take a concussion or broken bones, as long as it meant Mattias could still wake up and tell her off for not taking guards. She'd stand there and apologise a thousand times.

Mattias's horse had fallen deathly still. Anna peered around it and saw Sven skittering near a copse. She opened her mouth to call out to him. Then she saw him freeze, his wide eyes fixed on something outside her line of sight.

She heard the click of a crossbow engaging, and left her heart behind as she leaped to her feet. "No!"

Her eyes fell on a man so massive she nearly mistook him for a bear.

"Don't," Anna added breathlessly.

The attacker arched a bushy eyebrow. It was all she could make out of his face; his shaven head almost perfectly blotted out the fiery sun, throwing shadows across his features like a summit shrouded in clouds. The crossbow was almost half Anna's height, yet it looked like a mere toy nestled in his spade-like hands. "Touching concern for a moose," he said roughly.

"Reindeer."

Coarse laughter. "This is too easy. Here I thought leaving your general alive would give you incentive to cooperate; but look at you now, already begging for an animal's life. If I'd known stupidity was all it took to become Queen of Arendelle, I would have come in a dress." The crossbow swivelled between Sven and Mattias. "I'm feeling benevolent today. Choose one."

"No! Please." Anna stepped around the horse with one hand outstretched, her steps painstakingly light. "I'll come with you—I'll do whatever you want. Don't hurt them." When the man rolled his eyes, she added helplessly, "Why are you doing this?"

"Here's what you don't understand, Your Majesty. You're asking me for a favour I don't feel like granting. So the question that matters is: why not?"

Anna's mind raced. Stopped. "B-Because you'll lose."

"Tell me, what exactly do I stand to lose here?"

'You should take your safety more seriously,' Oskar had told her before. 'You're the queen.'

She was, wasn't she? Which meant her most powerful weapon was not the one that allowed her to slay her enemies.

The next right thing.

Anna drew out the dagger she had slipped from Mattias's belt and pressed its tip to her chest. "If you wanted me dead, you would have taken that first shot at me. Right?"

The man narrowed his hooded eyes. "You're threatening to slit your throat over an old soldier and a moose," he clarified flatly.

"Maybe. Is it working?"

His dark gaze bore into her. She held it, along with her breath.

Thwack.

Anna stumbled back as a bolt slammed into the ground, inches from her feet. She gripped the knife's hilt so tightly she could already feel bruises forming. But she bit down the whimper and kept her chin defiantly raised. Knife steady.

The man lowered the crossbow and spat to the side.

"Sven. Take Mattias and go." Anna's voice was so soft she barely heard it over the clamour of her heartbeat.

Sven let out an unhappy whine. Anna saw his lowered antlers, glanced back at the man with his crossbow and sword at his waist, and discreetly shook her head. It got her a reluctant snuff, but Sven complied and trotted towards Mattias.

Anna didn't dare take her eyes off the enemy. Her kidnapper.

It didn't deter him from making sudden moves, though. "Wait." He strode towards Sven, who froze with Mattias draped across his back.

Sven snorted in displeasure. But he stood still as the man drew a note from his burgundy coat, which he tucked into Mattias's trouser pocket.

Once Sven was out of sight, the man stormed back to Anna. It took only five strides for him to reach her.

She didn't know what to do with the knife anymore, so she looked up at him. "What was written on the—"

The crossbow stock slammed into her head.

OoOoO

"Stop! Where are you going? Arendelle is the other way!"

It was no use; the wind snatched away his commands. Miska galloped faster and wilder than any ship Oskar had sailed on.

A low branch nearly took off his head. "Calm—down—you—dumb—horse!" Oskar's teeth chattered with Miska's frenzied buckling. The reins had shot from his surprised grip when Anna had startled Miska, so all he could do was cling to the pony's neck and hold on for dear life.

This was all Anna's fault. Trust her to save his life by pushing him towards certain death.

"I said—" Oskar swiped for the reins. "—stop!"

He pulled backwards with all his might. And remembered too late that he had done the same thing last week. Oskar had a flash of lying flat on his back while Anna's disembodied voice sheepishly said, 'Oops. Did I forget to tell you that could happen?'

Miska reared. Oskar tumbled off with a yell—but fire flared in his left shoulder and jerked him upright before he could hit the ground. Leather cut into his forearm like a rusted knife; the reins had him snared. And Miska showed no signs of stopping.

Cursing his stupidity, Oskar's hand scrabbled across his back for the knife Mattias had given him. But he'd strapped on the scabbard with the hilt facing the other direction—he couldn't extend his arm far enough to free the blade from the scabbard.

It was ridiculous. He'd visualised his death every day of his life, and it never contained glory but it always involved fire and blood. A good end. Not one delivered by a frenzied hoof in the face, or a tree rushing towards him. Never had he ever pictured himself dying for nothing. For no one.

For the first time since arriving in Arendelle, Oskar was afraid.

Prince Gregory's stern face loomed in his mind. 'Plenty of time to rehearse your excuses in the afterlife.'

Then there was the phantom weight of Sofia's arm slung over his shoulders, tugging his earlobe in that infuriating habit of hers. 'You know he only sounds like a hard ass. He's doing it to make you strong.'

For you, Oskar thought. Everything was for you. And he had already failed that. He'd watched her eyes close for the last time and known there was no way to bring her back. It hadn't stopped him from trying; from stubbornly clutching her stiff hand in the icy fjord. Until another young woman had taught him how to let go.

'We'll do it together,' she'd told him in the water.

Liar.

Gritting his teeth, Oskar strained—and the knife came free.

He slashed upwards, cutting off the reins and hitting the ground in a plume of dust. Sky and earth blurred together as he rolled with his arms around his head. Dirt in his mouth, rocks and roots digging into his ribcage. Then, at last, all was still.

Oskar flopped onto his back and lay spreadeagled, chest heaving, eyes shut. Waiting for Prince Gregory to tell him to get up for one more drill. For Sofia to drag him to his feet, laughing.

For Anna to catch up.

A warm snuff of breath on his brow. Oskar cracked open an eye to see Miska standing over him, pawing the ground in a decidedly guilty manner. "Unbelievable," he muttered, dropping his head back down. "I don't care anymore. Just go. You're free."

He was free, too, wasn't he? He didn't have to return to Arendelle; he'd already left behind the one person who would have looked for him. Had looked out for him.

Miska nudged his shoulder.

Oskar turned his head away from her baleful eyes. His gaze landed on the knife lying beside him. 'No more stupid heroics,' Sofia had told him. Made him promise.

"She's going to get herself killed, Sof. Like you did."

An arm around his shoulders. A tug on his earlobe. I suppose you can perform heroics without being a hero. It's what you do best.

Of course it was. He'd been raised for it. Ever since Prince Gregory had taken him aside and said, 'This family is unfit to protect anyone. But you are different.'

Oskar let out a long breath. Then he picked up the knife.

'You are a shadow.'

OoOoO

The cut was so deep it took several seconds for the first drop of blood to well up. Then it started gushing. Bruni's skin glowed violet in alarm. Gale zipped back from gallivanting over the fjord to circle anxiously above the stall.

"I'm okay," Elsa said hastily, setting down the carving knife. Seeing Honeymaren serving a customer, she tapped Ryder on the shoulder. He was counting money and dividing them into denominations, as she had taught him. "Ryder, would you happen to have—"

Ryder took one look at her, and coins rolled across the mat they shared. "Almighty Ahtohallan! What did you do?"

"It's fine, it doesn't hurt—"

"You can't feel anything? Oh no, why did I get you into this? Maren!"

"No, no, it's okay. Really, it's just a scratch." Elsa tried to grab him before he lunged for his sister. Too slow.

"I'm so sorry, please keep browsing while I speak with my brother…" Honeymaren flashed the customer a winning smile, which vanished as soon as she turned around. "Ryder, can't you behave yourself for one… oh, spirits above. What happened, Elsa?"

All she could offer was an abashed smile. "My hand slipped while carving."

"Anna's going to kill us," moaned Ryder.

"She's going to kill you." Honeymaren pulled a handkerchief from her sash and pressed it gently but firmly to Elsa's wound. "Sorry if this hurts."

"It's okay. Thank you. And please don't blame Ryder; it's my fault for being distracted."

"He's the lazy one who roped you into helping him. He had two weeks to finish these carving commissions, and what did he spend all that time doing instead? 'Catching' stars."

"Hey, I figured it out in the end! All I needed was a bucket of water. And I'll have you know I didn't ask Elsa to help me because I'm lazy—it's because she's amazing. Look at this!" Ryder picked up Elsa's block of wood, whittled down to the rough shape of a wolf. "Do you see the detail in the fur? She can do this without magic. Can you believe it?"

"Of course I can, moron. This is Elsa we're talking about. What I can't believe is that you thought it would be a good idea to put a knife in her hand."

"What's wrong with that? She's a capable adult."

They both looked at Elsa. She blinked back.

Ryder grimaced. "Okay, you're right. I should have known better. How bad is it? Do we need Bruni to cauterise the wound?"

At the sound of his name, Bruni scampered down from Elsa's shoulder to her wrist, his large eyes fixed on Honeymaren's bandaging.

"He's joking, Bruni," Elsa said quickly.

"Am not!"

"Ryder, make yourself useful and serve the customer." Honeymaren glowered until he reluctantly shambled off. "He wasn't always so squeamish, believe it or not. It started when I fell out of a tree when we were kids. He thought I was going to die. Cried for days."

Elsa smiled. "I think you and Ryder care more for each other than you'll both admit."

"Trust me, we really don't."

"She's only proving my point, isn't she?" Elsa asked Bruni, then winced when Honeymaren applied pressure on her hand.

"Hold it tight until the bleeding stops, you insufferable optimist."

"That would be Anna."

"Good point. She's infecting you. Oh, hold on." Honeymaren rose to serve a new customer.

There was a pattern. Customers eventually noticed Elsa sitting by the stall, and would hastily dip their heads in greeting. Elsa would smile back and wonder if she should have donned something less conspicuous. She couldn't afford to get lost in thought, either, because she'd once accidentally caught a passerby's eye, and the woman had hurriedly changed directions to approach the stall and purchase a comb.

Arendelle was her home, but Elsa started to wonder if the people had forgotten that.

She peeled back the makeshift bandage to check on the wound: still bleeding. "Anna is going to overreact when she finds out about this." Seeing Bruni blanch, she chuckled and tickled his chin. "You're overreacting, too. This won't kill me."

Bruni did not look convinced.

Elsa wondered how laughably fragile humans must appear to nature. Humans were selfish, after all. They loved discriminately, destined to raise the lives of an arbitrary few above millions of others. It was such a simple thing to cast aside the faceless and nameless; after all, inhabiting the same world did not mean they were obliged to share the orbits of each other's. Wasn't that what Elsa had done that night, when she'd heard the screams of drowning people? 'Save them,' she had unthinkingly demanded of the Nokk.

Yet the more bodies that had surfaced on the dock—the longer her little sister remained in the waves, out of her reach, her protection—hadn't Elsa's world so readily, unapologetically, narrowed down to 'Save her'?

Humans made mistakes. But Elsa was different. When she bled, nature flinched. When she chose poorly, the balance trembled.

When the Nokk vanished, she wondered how much of it was her fault.

Sudden yelps of surprise snapped Elsa out of her reverie. At first, she could only blink dazedly at the blood-splotched handkerchief around her hand, unable to recall what she was supposed to be doing. Then she heard the crash.

Ryder was sprawled on top of the wares he had been selling, several pots shattered beneath him. An Arendellian woman stood over him, tall and grey-haired, her face twisted in disgust and fury. She held a leather sheath in one hand. Elsa recognised it; weeks ago, she'd watched a Northuldran elder stitch it together with tender skill before sliding it over the knife, a perfect fit, and adding it to the trade wagon.

'Good knife,' he'd boasted, clapping Ryder on the back. 'Make sure you get good mine-ay for it, eh? Enough coins to melt into a necklace for Livli's birthday.'

The hunting knife was now gripped in the woman's other hand.

There was another blade pointed at her.

Honeymaren held both her spear and voice steady, but her tone was colder than any steel. "Get away from my brother. Now."

"What's going on?" Elsa asked in bewilderment. She moved to Ryder's side. "Are you okay?"

He looked shaken, but nodded back. "Y-Yeah. Just tripped. Well, not 'just'—I didn't do it on my own. She suddenly went for one of the knives and—"

"They're here!" the Arendellian woman hissed back. Tendrils of hair had escaped from her bun, framing her face like vines. If not for the stout maid restraining her from behind, Elsa did not doubt that the woman would have set upon Ryder with the mercy of a ravenous animal. "Wild ones in the capital!"

"My lady, please calm down!" The maid's flustered gaze landed on Elsa. "Qu—Princess Elsa! Please understand; she's only confused. I promise she means no harm."

"Oh really? You think she's just enjoying her reflection in the steel?" Honeymaren sniped back.

The square's merry chatter had ceased. No one appeared to have moved, yet there was now a wide berth around the stall. Parents ushered children behind them. Even the gulls on the surrounding rooftops had fallen silent, perched like pale sentinels.

Elsa opened her mouth to say something—anything. Yet all that came to mind was her father's voice from a long time ago: 'It was a gift of peace… but something went wrong. I wasn't at all prepared for what the day would bring.'

A stocky man hobbled forward. He had a familiar face; they all had familiar faces, but Elsa couldn't put names to all of them. Anna would have been able to.

Reaching the stall, the man raised a placating hand to the woman with the knife, then turned to Honeymaren. He was shorter than her, but his shoulders were wide and his weathered face was set in a grim scowl. "And you?" he grunted. "Do you mean any harm?"

Honeymaren flicked her wrist and the spear flipped upright, pointed at the sky. "Looks to me like the harm has already been done."

"It's not personal. Freya's been that way for years. Decades."

Freya. The name resonated. Elsa couldn't ease the sense that she was missing something.

The man looked to Elsa with a minute bow of his head. "I hope you'll understand, ma'am. Seeing the outsiders; it's… triggering for Freya. They took her husband."

Ryder stopped dusting off his hands. There was an incredulous expression on his face as he rose to his feet. "We took her husband? You killed—spirits, I don't even know. Do you know how many of our people grew up without—"

"Look out!" Honeymaren leaped in front of her brother as the disoriented woman wrenched free of her maid. Spear pointed, determination in her eyes—

The knife flew out of the woman's hand. Everyone heard the deceivingly delicate tink as it struck the flagpole. Everyone saw the metal shatter on impact, watched the ornate handle fall harmlessly to the ground.

Everyone understood that it meant ice.

They all looked back at Elsa. The blatant horror on their faces terrified her (conceal, don't feel, don't let it show)—until she realised they weren't gawking at her; they were staring at the hand she had thrown out. At the blood dripping from her palm and down her wrist.

"Look at this… look at this." The woman pointed a bony finger at Elsa—the ice hadn't harmed her, thank goodness. "I told the king this would happen. My Hakon predicted it. Magic? Peace? We gave them a gift, and they've sent us back a witch."

She shouldn't have flinched. If she hadn't, Bruni and Gale wouldn't have known that a single word could hurt her more than a knife. The air wouldn't be humming with humidity, and fear wouldn't be flashing across the Arendellians' faces. And Elsa wouldn't be so afraid.

Nature did not interfere with mortal affairs, but the spirits inarguably had wills and whims of their own. And there was no questioning whose side they would take.

Please… don't make me choose.

"Elsa!"

Suddenly, the crowd scattered as Sven burst into the square like a crazed bull. Mattias slouched in the saddle, dangerously pale. He nearly fell off as Sven skidded to a halt in front of Elsa.

"Anna," he wheezed.

All Elsa heard was: You won't make it in time.

OoOoO

The sky was red. Or was that the ground? Were her eyes even open? It was impossible to tell. She couldn't move. Didn't want to move. It was fine; Kai would wake her up if she slept in. Everything was fine.

Why didn't she feel fine?

Anna winced as she opened her eyes. Too bright. There was something warm and sticky on her face. She lifted a hand to wipe it away. Couldn't.

"Gotta be kidding me. You're awake already? Stop moving before I drop you." Whose voice was that? Couldn't be Kristoff. Mattias?

Anna suddenly got the niggling feeling that she was forgetting something. Something about Mattias. What was it? Of course, thinking would be easier if the world would just stop bouncing. She felt like vomiting, but when her lips parted, all that came out was a crumpled moan.

"Quit whining. I didn't hit you that hard, did I? Bloody hell, you'd better not die on me before we get back. You hear me?"

Barely; the roar of blood in her ears was louder. Her head felt too heavy, and the rest of her body too light. It was hard to breathe with her ribcage pressed against an unforgivingly hard shoulder. It never felt this uncomfortable when Kristoff slung her over his back.

Kristoff, Anna thought. She clung to the sound of his name, wielded it like a torch against the darkness creeping back into her vision.

"Where are you… taking me?"

"Weselton."

A rush of panic cleared Anna's head. "Weselton? The Duke sent you?"

"Hmm."

She'd sent Kristoff and Hakon straight into a trap. Her fault. She should've known. Maybe this wouldn't be happening if she had listened more—listened to Hakon's advice, to Mattias's insistence on fortifying her guard, to Elsa's reminders to be careful and to stop running into fire.

This time, though, the fire had found her. Burned her.

'Hans said you were naïve.'

But she wasn't blind.

"Not from Weselton," Anna mumbled into the stranger's back. "Wrong crossbow."

"Shit, I did hit too hard. You're not making any sense."

Crimson spots danced across her vision until Anna blinked and realised it was blood congealed to her eyelashes. Her blood? Thank goodness Kristoff and Elsa couldn't see her in this state.

What if she never saw them again?

"Weselton developed faster-loading models. You're not using one. And the Duke wouldn't cross Elsa; even if he did, he wouldn't just send one man. He's a chicken. With the face of a peacock."

"You're delirious."

"And you're lying."

The man's snort jostled her. "What difference does it make? She'll come for you no matter where you end up."

'Whoever comes, whatever reason they have, wherever I run… I'll never be able to stay away from Arendelle. Because if trouble can't find me, it will go looking for you, Anna.'

It was a sloppy kick, but it still rewarded her with a grunt of pain. Then the man dropped her, and vertigo overtook satisfaction.

Anna's head exploded as she crashed onto her side. She couldn't even nurse it because her arms were tied behind her back. The ropes cut into her wrists, but the burn was offset by a calming coolness.

The bracelet. It would break if she smashed it hard enough against the ground. Then Elsa would come for her.

But that was the problem, wasn't it?

Anna coughed up the dust she had inhaled. "You leave… my sister… alone."

From her perspective, her kidnapper was a storm that filled the sky and dwarfed the trees. Anna braced herself.

But he ignored her and instead glared into the distance. "Where's that dumb horse? Swear I left it around here."

Anna wanted to laugh. Her big bad kidnapper was lost, which meant they were still on the outskirts of Arendelle. Easy. She was fast on her feet. Sven might already have alerted the guards. She wasn't a hapless princess in a fairytale; she was a queen capable of saving herself. All she had to do was scrape together the strength to stand up.

Except she didn't even register that her eyes had closed of their own accord, until she heard the man growl, "What the hell is this?"

Anna struggled to focus on the wavering outline of the man crouched a short distance away, studying one end of a rope tied around a tree. The tether had been severed cleanly.

Seeming to come to a realisation, he bit out a curse, reaching for his sword—

A shadow plummeted from the sky and sank a knife into his back.

For a gravity-defying instant, Oskar was sure he had mistimed. Then he nearly lost grip of the knife as the blade pierced flesh and deflected off bone. He knew immediately that it was not deep enough. Bad angle. Out of practice.

Too late—no time to stop. He hit the ground rolling, skidding, stumbling. He stopped just short of tripping over Anna.

She stared up at him with bewilderment on her blood-streaked face. Damn it, she was hurt. "Oskar? What are you—"

He cut her restraints and dragged her to her feet. "Just run, you idiot!"

It wasn't a beach in the darkness of night. He wasn't racing towards a boat, struggling to push it into the ebon sea. But Oskar had been here before—had sprinted without looking back, heart threatening to burst from his chest with the anticipation of an arrow in his back.

They were almost there when Anna tripped. No, not tripped—buckled. Oskar barely caught her in time.

"M'kay," she gasped. "Just… give me… a second…" The blood was both too dark and too bright on her deathly pale skin. It was all over if she passed out now.

Throwing an urgent look over his shoulder, Oskar ushered her behind a tree. "Anna. Anna. Come on. Stay awake."

"I am awake, dummy." Anna cracked open an eye; her left one, since blood flowed persistently down the right side of her face. "See?"

"Yeah, okay. Lower your voice." Oskar used his sleeve to clean up Anna's face and got a better look at her head wound. The gash opened up at her temple, disappearing into her scalp and staining her fiery hair the wrong shade of red.

"You're gonna catch a cold," Anna slurred, reaching out to tug Oskar's thin undershirt as he yanked off his tunic and pressed it to her head. "Why did you come back?"

"What does it look like? I'm saving your stupid ass."

"Hey. Language."

"Really? Right now? Here—hold it yourself." Oskar kept his eyes peeled on their surroundings as he wiped his hands on his pants. The knife Mattias had given him was already a little too heavy for his tastes, and he couldn't afford to have a sweaty grip.

He jumped when Anna's hand touched his. Her eyes were still unfocused, but traces of colour had returned to her face. Maybe she had a chance now. "All right, listen. There's a horse tied up a little farther that way, with Miska. Huge horse, can't miss it. It's his; it actually came with me when I cut it loose, would you believe? It's saddled and ready to go. Just don't fall off. Can you manage that?"

"Sure." Her voice now sounded more like the Anna he knew. "Give me the knife, Oskar. It's okay."

That was when he realised that even amidst the chaos, Anna was worried about him. She thought he was shell-shocked from what he had done.

He tightened his grip on the knife. "And what are you going to do with it, huh? Go up against him looking like that? You've never killed anyone before."

"What, and you have?"

Even Oskar knew his hesitation dragged for too long. He could tell by the way Anna stared at him, humour slowly draining into puzzlement.

"Oskar…?"

He averted his eyes. "I just… I know what I'm doing, okay?"

Anna opened her mouth—and yelped when a bolt slammed into the opposite tree, nearly clipping Oskar. They flattened themselves to the trunk as the sound of heavy footsteps drew nearer.

"So this is where you washed up," the mercenary grunted as he reloaded the crossbow. "Oskar."

Anna shot Oskar a startled, how-does-he-know-your-name look.

Something about the man had seemed familiar. Now, it clicked. "Oh no. It's Runo."

"Who?"

"The ugly twin." When Anna still looked confused, Oskar impatiently added, "The chocolates, Anna. Number ten. Keep up."

"Wait, what? He's a Wes—he's your uncle?"

Runo called out, "I have to say; I'm surprised. I can see why Hans would drool over such a puny kingdom; they're both about as important. But you? Thought you were smarter than that. Why are you protecting this fool?"

"Why are you here? Murdering one monarch wasn't enough for you?"

Knife, Anna mouthed to Oskar.

Horse, he shot back.

They glowered at each other.

"You say that like I should be ashamed. The codger had it coming; Rudi and I gave each other a black eye, fighting over who got to do it. I won. I always win."

"You're a horrible person," Anna said in a whisper only Oskar could hear.

"So." Runo's tone shifted into something Oskar didn't like. "Where's Sofia? Was my aim too good that night?"

Time slowed.

"What did you say?" Oskar asked numbly. "Your… aim?"

"You heard me. If I'd been there from the start, not a single one of you would have made it onto those boats."

Anna had gone pale again, this time with horror. "Oskar," she whispered.

He was already moving.

He heard the crossbow, but knew that no archer could pin him down. He was too fast. Too small. It didn't give him an advantage against Runo, though. Runo had watched him grow up, seen his training.

But it was only thanks to Runo that Oskar had nothing left to lose.

OoOoO

She almost managed to grab him in time. Despite Gerda's skilful tailoring, all of Oskar's clothes were still slightly too big for him; if he hadn't taken off his shirt to stem her bleeding, she could have caught him. He hated it when she pointed out that the baggy fit only emphasised room for him to grow.

He was only twelve years old.

"Oskar, no!" Anna tried to stand only to pitch forward onto all fours. A droplet of blood spattered onto the back of her hand. She saw way too many fingers. Standing suddenly felt harder than ice-skating.

So she crawled, dragging herself around the tree in time to see Oskar take a flying leap at Runo Westergaard. It was a picture ripped straight out of a fable and thrust into nightmarish reality. It seemed to happen in slow motion—Runo effortlessly knocking aside Oskar's knife thrust with the crossbow, his other hand already moving. Then it sped up again. There was no time for Anna to cry out a warning as Runo's sword swung towards Oskar's torso with the ferocity of a viper.

Please, she implored of every force in the universe. He's only twelve.

And gravity seemed to respond: Oskar tripped. The sword passed harmlessly over his head.

Oskar didn't stop there, though. He tumbled through Runo's wide stance and regained his balance a safe distance away, crouched low like a scorpion. The length of his knife gleamed scarlet—a bloody tear had opened up in Runo's left calf.

Anna suspected the gods had nothing to do with that.

Runo glanced down at his leg with a look of amused annoyance. "Next time I see Gregory, I'll let him know he did an outstanding job raising a flea. Oh, wait—I'm not planning a trip to the bottom of the ocean anytime soon. Shame I had nothing to do with that."

"Don't you worry," Oskar said in a chillingly quiet voice, flipping the knife into a reverse defensive grip. "I'll get to Caleb soon enough."

Runo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. From Anna's position, she could see the first gash Oskar had left on his back. It didn't seem to hinder him in the slightest, and Anna realised despairingly that Oskar wasn't a flea at all—Runo was simply too monolithic to fall.

"Let you in on a secret, kid?" His lips split into an eerie smile. "If you want to avenge Gregory, it's Hans you should go after."

An incessant ringing screeched in Anna's ears, like a boomerang trapped within her skull. She must have heard wrong. Hans was supposed to be missing. He couldn't be on Caleb's side. Had Oskar actually told her that, though? Or had Anna convinced herself of it? The same way she'd told herself the danger couldn't be real; that the war wouldn't actually reach Arendelle. That no one would get hurt.

Oskar darted around a tree as Runo's sword hacked into the trunk. He reappeared on the other side, jumping up to pull back a branch that catapulted into Runo's face. Then he plunged in with both hands gripping the knife, eyes blazing with resolve and hatred and—

Runo's backhand sent him flying. Oskar crashed into another tree, the knife spinning out of his hand and into the bushes.

Get up, Anna thought; but not to Oskar, who lay dazed. Get up, Anna.

Runo approached Oskar at a leisurely pace, twirling the sword in a hypnotic motion. There was a red welt across his brow, a slight limp to his stride, and cuts all over his coat. Yet he still bore the air of a champion, certain of his glory.

"You've lost your touch. Send my regards to Gregory, mm? Tell him he chose the wrong side."

"Tell him yourself," Oskar rasped out—as Anna picked up the discarded crossbow and smashed it across Runo's wounded back.

Runo bellowed and whirled around.

Anna offered a weak smile. "That was payback."

It was in his eyes: he no longer cared about keeping her alive.

Before either of them could move, Oskar clambered onto Runo's back and leveraged his entire body to wrestle back Runo's sword arm, locking the elbow. His face was red with effort. "Don't just stand there!" he shouted at Anna. "Run!"

Run. It struck Anna that she might well be hearing that word for the rest of her life. How many more people would throw themselves into danger for her, all because she was the queen? Would saving herself make her a wiser leader? If she fought alongside them, would that make her a better person? A foolish queen? What was the right thing to do? Was there a right thing? Who got to decide that?

Anna made her choice.

She swung the crossbow at Runo's bloodied left leg.

It sent him down on one knee, putting his face too close to hers. She saw in too much detail his unexpectedly long eyelashes; the faint freckles beneath the dirt and blood; the lumpy spot where the cartilage of his once-broken nose had healed crookedly. She saw cords of muscle popping on his neck as he strained to shake Oskar off. And she saw the exact moment he changed tactics and reached under his coat with his free hand. She saw the knife—Mattias's knife. He must have taken it from her.

She didn't see who he would have stabbed: her or Oskar. She didn't think at all—Anna mustered the last of her strength, and brought the crossbow crashing down on Runo's head.

The weapon shattered, spraying the three of them with wood and metal.

No one moved.

The perfect symmetry of Runo's shaven head mesmerised Anna. Somehow, the crossbow hadn't left a single mark. No scratch, no blood. No reaction.

"Did that knock him out?" Oskar panted.

"I-I think so? I mean, I…" She'd hit him hard enough for it. Frighteningly hard. She thought she'd felt something give way before the crossbow broke and—

Runo straightened without a word, sending a shocked Oskar crashing to the ground.

Anna stared at the blood trickling from Runo's nose, slithering over his lips. But Runo didn't even spare a look at her. He simply swung the sword.

A blur of white bowled him over.

Anna blinked. Then she noticed the air seemed to swirl around her and Oskar, picking up sticks and rocks that hovered protectively around them. "… Gale?"

Runo's hoarse yell tore through her relief. Anna looked up and immediately saw the reason.

He was pinned down by a giant wolf made entirely of ice.

'She'll come for you no matter where you end up.'

The beast snarled down at Runo. Its crystal fangs were as long as the knife he tried to stab into its side— the blade snapped. Runo swore, scrabbling across the ground for his sword. His fingers brushed the hilt for a split second before the wolf snatched him by the leg.

Anna held her breath.

But the wolf didn't tear into Runo. It only dragged him away from Anna and Oskar, then dropped him unceremoniously in the dirt. He lay there, muttering curses as he tried to crawl towards his sword. Blood continued streaming from his nose.

The wolf padded back.

"Anna," Oskar said warily.

"It's okay; it won't hurt us."

The wolf stopped in front of her. Anna stared into its ice-blue eyes, so familiar to her that a lump rose in her throat.

The wolf bowed its head and took the final step towards her. The moment their brows touched, its crystalline body morphed into soft, snowy fur.

Anna let out an awed laugh and made a mental note to tell Elsa she was a showoff.

Then she saw that the wolf's muzzle was now smudged red. She tried to rub it off, but the sight of her blood on the wolf's beautiful fur had brought back her raging headache. She couldn't sleep yet; Runo wouldn't stay down for long. She needed to be ready.

Except Runo had fallen silent.

Anna blinked. She had just blinked, right? She didn't remember laying her head down on the wolf. Now even more fur had been stained, and it was a different red to the time Olaf poured pink lemonade down his throat and ended up looking like a snow cone.

Another blink. She wasn't resting on the wolf anymore. There was something blissfully cold pressed to her skull. And someone had gathered her in their arms. Anna knew that cold, and the warmth that accompanied it. She knew the voice desperately whispering, "Please, no... please..."

She made a feeble attempt to shift into a more comfortable position. Failed. "Bony," she croaked.

"Anna?" The moment their eyes met, Elsa's tremulous expression collapsed. She let out a choked sob. "I thought I lost you. Does your head hurt?"

"Nah." Anna was still seeing double, so Elsa's scepticism was twice as obvious. That wouldn't do. "Can we keep it?"

"What?" Elsa registered the snow wolf sitting majestically on Anna's other side, one paw laid protectively on her arm. "Oh. When Mattias told me you were in trouble, I knew… I thought I wouldn't get to you in time. I barely remember making it."

"Well, good thing you did. It saved me. You saved me."

"I know, but…" Elsa bit her lip. Her gaze lingered on the wolf's bloodied muzzle, then flitted to something further away.

Anna didn't need to look to guess what—who—her sister was staring at. It wasn't the wolf, she wanted to say. You didn't hurt him, Elsa. I did. I did that. Except her tongue felt as heavy as her eyelids.

"Anna? Don't sleep; you need to stay awake. Please."

It was good advice; there was so much to do. She had to check on Kristoff and Hakon, Mattias and Sven. She needed to call an immediate council meeting and figure out what to do with the Southern Isles prince lying unconscious on Arendellian soil. Figure out what all of it meant.

And she was lying to herself; because, despite the haze in her throbbing head, Anna knew exactly what it meant. What was coming.

She turned her face into the warmth of Elsa's neck, mumbling, "I'm scared."

Her sister rocked her, but it didn't conceal the tremor in her voice. "It's okay. You're safe, Anna. It's over."

But it wasn't, was it? Far from it. Anna didn't know how to face that truth; so she let her eyes fall shut, and thought of nothing at all.

A/N: Here it is! Sorry for the long wait. I'm sure this is still riddled with typos I'll need to come back and fix, but I've stared at this for way too long. This was a temperamental one that took four weeks to write 3k… four days to plow through the remaining 4k. I initially intended for the last chapter to end here. Massive miscalculations! And so we ended up with the most sinful of cliffhangers. Not sure I redeemed myself with this Unlucky Chapter Thirteen, either. You know when you care so much for a character that hurting them literally makes your heart ache? That was me this whole chapter.

A note on weapons: there's the old debate that, according to the period in which Frozen is set, there ought to be guns in the Frozenverse. But all we saw were crossbows and I cannot write gunfights anyway soooo welcome to a sword and archery world. Look the other way if you see cannons. Here be shameless historical inaccuracy.

Thanks so much for waiting and reading!