Author's Note:

This story lays out an alternate, very sad, ending to my story "The Spare".

This prologue is not new content, but a copy of Chapter 13 from "The Spare". I decided to add it so that someone could read this story as complete without going back to The Spare.

This chapter describes the end of the plot to assassinate Elsa and replace her on the throne of Arendelle with Princess Anna. Unfortunately, although the plotters are brought to justice, Anna is wounded in the course of the fight, leading to her death, which is dealt with by Elsa, Kristoff, and the entire kingdom in the next chapter of this story.

If you have already read "The Spare" and remember all the plot participants and so on, feel free to skip this chapter and dive right into the angst of the next chapter. It is intense, be warned.

'Tis the sport to have the enginer
Hoist with his own petard.
Shakespeare

Pierre's blood pounded in his ears as he ran toward his warehouse. The adrenaline surging through his body let him cover the distance in less than ten minutes. Skidding to a stop outside the entrance, his chest was heaving as he dragged in great gulps of air, trying to catch his breath. He fumbled in his pocket for his watch and was shocked to see that it was five minutes after ten. His bomb had not gone off! Snarling, he pushed the watch back into his pocket and fumbled to open the door, hands shaking so badly it took three tries to fit the key into the lock.

He ran to the office where he knew Saint-Just would be waiting for him.

"Where is she, where is the Princess?" he demanded of a startled Saint-Just.

"She's in the safe room, tied up. What's wrong, what happened? I didn't hear an explosion," demanded his associate.

"No time, we need to get out of here, now, before the Queen and her men come. Once they realize what happened, this will be the first place they look. Is everyone else aboard the ship?" Pierre was rummaging in the desk drawer for bullets to reload his pistol. He stuffed it in his pocket when he finished.

Saint-Just answered him, "Yes, everyone is aboard except you and me. The tide's favorable, we can cast off as soon as we get her aboard."

"You go get her; I'm going to set this place on fire to keep them busy and cover our trail. I'll meet you out front."

Pierre cursed himself for not having the Princess taken aboard the ship instead of putting her in the warehouse. He had let himself be too confident in the success of his plan. Making a getaway with the Queen's Guard howling after him wasn't the way it was supposed to happen; they should have been too busy sifting through the rubble of Thorstad's manor house looking for bits and pieces of the Queen and her nobles to worry about him.

Saint-Just hurried to the room where they had confined Anna. Unlocking it, he opened the door and went in to pick her up and carry her to the ship. He could hear Pierre splashing lamp oil at the back of the warehouse, then a "whoosh" and the crackle of flames. There was an explosion; he supposed Pierre had a cask of the gunpowder set up where he set the fire. He needed to get out of here, fast. Where was the Princess?

He was stunned that the room seemed to be empty. He froze in place, not understanding. Where was she?

Anna swung the board she had pried loose from one of the shelves and knocked Saint-Just flat on his face with a blow to the back of his head. She had finally managed to work herself free of the ropes binding her hands and feet just in time to set up her little ambush as she heard him fumbling to unlock the door.

Dropping the board, she ran out the door … right into Pierre's arms. "Not so fast, you little bitch!"

Kicking and struggling, Anna tried to scream, "Help, Help me!" hoping to attract someone's attention. She managed a good kick to Pierre's shin, but it wasn't enough to loosen his grip.

He twisted her arms behind her and pushed her to the floor. Putting a knee into her back to hold her down, he gripped both her wrists in one hand and pulled a knife out of his pocket.

"I should cut your throat, but that is too quick. Since I apparently failed to kill your sister, I'll just leave you here to burn in her place!" he snarled. He stabbed her viciously in her side then kicked her aside as he ran out the door.

Saint-Just staggered out of the room where Anna had ambushed him. "Wait, Pierre, wait for me!" He glanced at Anna writhing on the floor.

"Help me, please!" She reached out a hand to him.

"Die, you royal whore! I should have killed you earlier." he spat his hatred as he ran after Pierre.

Anna struggled to push herself to her hands and knees but fell back heavily. She whimpered at the pain in her side where Pierre had stabbed her. The warehouse was rapidly filling with smoke and she heard the flames and felt their heat as they drew closer. There was another explosion at the back of the warehouse. Dust and splinters fell from the rafters, causing her to cough. That hurt.

"I'm going to die here. Oh, Elsa, why didn't I listen to you? Kristoff..." she agonized over how they would feel if she didn't escape. Painfully, slowly, she tried to drag herself toward the door where Pierre and Saint-Just had gone. She had only gotten a few feet when her strength gave out and she fell.

To say the Captain was unwilling to let Elsa go to the docks was an understatement, and nothing she could say moved him from his position. He was sworn to protect her and protect her he would, with her permission or not. Kristoff finally grabbed him by the lapels of his uniform jacket and snarled, "Captain, your Queen is ORDERING you to TAKE HER TO HER SISTER. I suggest you LISTEN TO HER!" and threw the Captain back into the seat while glaring at the other two guards.

Elsa snapped at the Captain before he did something foolish like trying to punch Kristoff. "Captain, you have a choice. Either this carriage and those Marines take me to that fire, or I will walk there while you thaw. Which is it?"

When she put it like that...

"Driver, head for that fire, fast! You men, follow us!" the Captain bellowed to the squad of mounted Marines surrounding the carriage. He hoped that the others he had sent there would find the Princess before that warehouse collapsed. They all hung on as the carriage careened through the streets of Arendelle as fast as the team could gallop.

When the carriage got to the warehouse, the driver had to stop a short distance away; the horses were bucking and rearing as they smelled the fire and refused to go any closer.

Elsa, Kristoff and her guardsmen scrambled out of the carriage and ran to where a small group of Marines was milling around in front of the warehouse. They were struggling to control their horses; they were as spooked by the fire as the carriage team was. The Marines strained to hold onto the reins of their mounts as they tried to calm them enough to be able to lead them far enough away from the fire to tie them up and begin a search.

Elsa was horrified to see how engulfed in flames the building already appeared to be. In the distance, she could hear the bells of the fire brigade coming to fight the fire before too many other buildings were involved in the conflagration.

"Anna! Oh, gods, Anna!" Elsa's pulse was racing and her hands trembled. She was afraid her legs wouldn't hold her upright; she clenched her hands, uncertain of what to do. Reluctant as she was to put them at risk in the burning warehouse, she was about to order two of the Marines to attempt a quick search before the fire got completely out of control and made it impossible. She intended to follow them and protect them with her ice magic. She did not share this plan with her Guard Captain.

Suddenly Pierre appeared in the doorway, coughing and choking. He was startled to see the Marines but had the presence of mind to pull out his pistol and aim it at them. "Back, you dogs, or I'll kill you all!"

He suddenly noticed Elsa standing there and bellowed, "I'll kill you, witch!" and before any of the Marines could react, he pointed the pistol at her and pulled the trigger.

When Elsa was attacked by the Duke's men in her ice palace, her magic had defended her from a crossbow bolt without any conscious action on her part. This time, she was very conscious of what she was doing. The moment she saw Pierre and the blazing fanatical hatred in his eyes she knew she would have to kill him before he killed her, killed Kristoff, killed as many Marines as he had bullets in his gun.

In the split second before his gun spat death at her she sent a blast of ice shards to impale him to the warehouse wall. The bullet flew off into the sky as his arms flew wide and flung the gun away. He hung there like an insect in a display case, looking down at the spike through his chest, mouth gaping, disbelief the only emotion on his face. "You … you … weren't supposed to be able to do that …" he whined as he died.

Saint-Just had stumbled out of the warehouse right behind Pierre, equally overcome by the smoke. Seeing what had happened to Pierre unmanned him and he fell to his knees holding his hands in the air, screaming, "Don't kill me, I surrender."

Elsa turned to him and grabbed him by the throat. "Where's my sister?" she hissed.

"Inside, she's inside about 50 feet. Pierre stabbed her, not me! Please don't kill me!" he blubbered like a child.

Elsa released her grip on his throat and he fell flat on his face, continuing to whimper, "Don't kill me, I surrender."

She snapped at Kristoff, "We need to go get her. I'll protect us. Come on."

The Guard Captain's protest died in his throat as he saw the flinty determination in her eyes. Nothing was going to stop Elsa if Anna was in danger.

Kristoff ran to her side while two Marines grabbed Saint-Just and hustled him away.

"Stay as close to me as you can. I'll try to keep the fire at bay with my magic!" Elsa told Kristoff. Then she conjured up a whirlwind of snow and ice to surround them and they walked into the fire.

The blazing inferno was merciless as it devoured the warehouse structure. Anna saw a shower of sparks as a beam fell with a crash. She was panting; the smoke was suffocating. Even lying on the floor below the worst of it she could hardly breathe. She clutched her side where the stab wound bled freely.

"Elsa, Kristoff!?" her thoughts were muddled, she was losing consciousness. She knew that she was going to die here and this time there would be no miracle of true love to save her.

Through the smoke and the flames she saw something white coming toward her. An angel? Was she dead and an angel was coming to guide her soul? Not an angel, a blizzard! "That's no blizzard, that's my SISTER!" she realized. Elsa had come to save her.

The swirl of ice and snow was protecting Elsa and Kristoff. The ice and snow melted almost as fast as she could conjure it, the fire was so hot. They approached Anna quickly.

"Kristoff, pick her up! I won't be able to hold the flames back much longer!" Elsa's voice was sharp. He picked Anna up and nodded at Elsa. She immediately focused a blast of ice to break down a nearby wall, and the two of them sprinted to escape the inferno, still surrounded by Elsa's magic snow.

They had barely gotten outside when the roof collapsed in the building behind them, sending a blast of flames and debris through the breach Elsa had created-a blast that knocked them off their feet. Kristoff was able to twist his body so that he cushioned Anna's body on his own, and Elsa managed to keep the snow and ice around them to quench the flames before they could be burned. Their clothing had gotten a little scorched even so, and they coughed and gagged at the smothering smoke. Anna had mercifully passed out when Kristoff had picked her up inside the burning building.

"Your Majesty!" One of Elsa's guardsmen ran up to her. More guardsmen and Marines ran up and the fire brigade began to fight the fire before it spread to other buildings. It was a raging inferno, quickly getting out of control. She could feel the waves of heat beating on her skin.

"We need to get my sister to a physician, she's hurt!" Elsa managed to choke out through her coughs.

Two guardsmen picked Anna up from where she lay atop Kristoff. Two more helped him get up and stumble after Anna as they carried her to a safe distance, then put her gently into a wagon. Kristoff jumped in with her and cradled her head tenderly in his lap. The wagon drove off to take Anna to the Apothecary not far away.

With the help of a guardsman, Elsa staggered to her feet. Still coughing, she turned toward the burning building, brushing off the attempt of a guard to pull her away to safety. "Your Majesty, the Fire Brigade is here, let them do their jobs!"

"No, I can help them put this out. They'll never stop it before it burns down half this end of the town otherwise." She pushed him away.

She gestured with both hands, and a thick cloud formed over the building. Snow began to fall from the cloud; a blizzard of snow and sleet. The roaring blaze melted the snow into water that rained down and gradually brought the fire under control. When Elsa was finally confident the fire brigade could put out the remaining flames she dissipated the snow cloud and turned away.

She stumbled and would have fallen if one of her guardsmen hadn't grabbed her elbow to steady her. Dazed, she looked around, seeing her usual cordon of Queen's Own surrounding her. She shook her head to try to clear it and asked, "Where's my sister? Where's Anna?" There was a slight edge of panic in her voice; she knew Anna had been stabbed but she didn't know how serious the wound was.

"Your Majesty, the physician at the Apothecary treated her wounds as best he could, then they took her back to the castle so that the Royal Physician and his assistants could continue to treat her." replied her Guard Captain.

"We need to get back to the castle, then, Captain!" Elsa said as she started to walk away. Her legs suddenly turned to rubber and she would have fallen if not for the guardsman catching her again. He gently helped her sit down on the cobblestones.

"It appears I will need my carriage." Elsa managed to gasp before she blacked out.

When Elsa awoke, she couldn't focus her vision for a moment, then it cleared and she could see Gerda's face above her and feel something cool and damp against her forehead.

"Gerda?" Elsa could only manage a hoarse whisper; the smoke had roughened her throat. "Where's Anna? Is she okay?"

"She is being treated by the Royal Physician, Your Majesty. Next door. He doesn't want you in there yet. You took some nasty bruises and scrapes yourself, not to mention inhaling the smoke." Gerda replied as she continued to bathe Elsa's forehead and face with a damp towel.

Looking around, Elsa could see that she was in one of the small private rooms of the castle infirmary. She suddenly realized that Gerda hadn't really answered her question. "Is Anna okay?" she asked again, more forcefully this time.

The troubled look on Gerda's face was all the answer she needed. She attempted to sit up and get out of the bed, but Gerda held her down. "No, Your Majesty! You must stay here! The Physician was firm...he needs no interruptions. Anna's wound is serious and you can't go in there yet."

Elsa stopped struggling and lay quiet, but her thoughts were in turmoil. "Where is Kristoff? Is he alright?" she managed to ask.

"I'm right here, Elsa." Kristoff came up to her bed. "I was waiting in the hall when I heard you talking to Gerda." His waistcoat and cravat were gone; the vest was missing a few buttons. His clothes were stained with smoke and had small burned patches here and there and his face and hair were smudged and blackened with soot. An angry red welt across one cheek showed stark against his fair skin.

"Kristoff! What happened?" Elsa reached out to him.

Taking her hand in his, he replied, "The physician at the apothecary managed to stop the bleeding and bandage her up enough for us to bring her here. Your physician and his nurses are doing what they can. She hasn't regained consciousness yet." He looked miserable. "Elsa, I'm … I'm afraid. She bled a lot, and … if that knife cut something vital in her gut, she'll … she'll ..." He couldn't finish.

Elsa squeezed his hand, tears welling in her eyes. She knew exactly what he meant. Gut wounds would frequently prove fatal. The fevers would take hold and kill the victim after a few days of agony. On a battlefield, the surgeons would often give the mercy stroke to gut-shot soldiers, or enough laudanum that they never woke up. "Please, please don't let that happen to Anna!"

"Kristoff, you should get cleaned up and get that burn on your face looked after." Elsa finally found her voice, shaky as it was.

He shook his head. "No, I'm not leaving here until the physician comes out to tell us how she's doing." He looked around, pulled a chair over next to Elsa's bed and sat down. He took her hand again. "I don't know what I'll do if she … if she ..." His voice caught and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the vision of Anna when they had found her in the warehouse. Elsa could only nod through her own tears, her throat too tight to speak.

Gerda had left them when Kristoff entered the room. She now returned bearing a tray with a teapot and two mugs. "Your Majesty, Kristoff, the physician ordered me to bring you some herbal tea with honey. He said you both needed to drink as much as you can. The heat from the fire dehydrated you and you need to replace the fluids. The honey will soothe your throats from the smoke."

Gerda helped Elsa sit up while Kristoff poured the tea into the mugs. They both drank two mugs. Elsa had to admit the tea and honey made her feel much better. Physically, at least. Nothing would lift the weight on her heart until she knew Anna would recover. She refused to think about her not recovering.

"Kristoff, at least use the washbasin over there to clean up a little. You'll feel better." Gerda chided him like a mother would. He nodded and did as she instructed. After washing his face and hands, he used a damp towel to get most of the soot out of his hair. He did feel better, even though the burn on his cheek still stung.

When he finished, he sat next to Elsa again. They waited, hand in hand.