Reborn

7 - Triggered

Kristoff gasped in pain as the man called Patchy tied Kristoff's hands tightly behind his back. He had remained quiet the whole time, along with his companion and look-alike, whom Kristoff didn't know the name of.

"What do you want to do with him, Sideburns?" Patchy asked, speaking for the first time as he slung Kristoff over his shoulder as if he was a rag doll.

Sideburns smiled without humour. "Ransom him. Don't you know who he is?"

Kristoff tensed.

"He's that Arendelle dame's boyfriend." Sideburns stepped forward, head cocked to the side, studying Kristoff critically like he was something on display in a shop. "And he's travelling with the queen. That'll fetch us a meaty price from the queen's relatives, Rapunzel and Eugene."

"Make sure it's a big price," Patchy suggested as they began moving again, though Kristoff couldn't tell where. "To make Eugene pay for taking the crown from us."

"Don't worry," Sideburns assured him. Kristoff could barely hear him over the blood thumping in his head. "He'll pay."

~

Elsa's eyes shot open. Her keen eyes quickly scanned the surrounding area. Olaf was sound asleep next to her in Kristoff's sleigh.

Kristoff!

Where's Kristoff?

She looked around, standing up in the sleigh. She couldn't see anything. It was dark. She glanced up at the moon. She judged it to be around midnight.

She shivered.

She frowned. Why am I shivering? I've never minded the cold before. But for some strange reason, she was shivering, feeling really cold. She wrapped her arms around herself.

A slight breeze teased a strand of her hair.

A sharp pain pierced her chest.

She stumbled backwards, off the sleigh. The air was sucked out of her. Everything swirled around her.

Air. I need air.

Something white was swirling around her.

Snow.

Her blood ran cold.

No...

She conjured Anna's face, but it was a blur, like she was trying to look out a foggy window. The pain blinded her.

"...remained hidden in slumber for the past thousand years..."

The wind blasted her face. Whipped her hair.

"...it's after you..."

Fight. Fi...fight it!

Images flashed before her eyes.

Her mother.

Her father.

Them playing together.

Her mother's face.

A seven-year-old Anna sitting outside of Elsa's room crying.

Elsa clutched her chest as she curled up into a fetal position. Wind was now a hurricane, swirling around her, the roar filling her ears.

"It's gained access"

"It gains more control"