A/N: Before I set everyone loose into this world, I would like to thank Dreamswanderer (Tumblr) for basically being my beta in the beginning of what's gonna be a long journey and everyone else who expressed their interest before I actually committed to this. Catching Shadows is based on a piece of music performed by Ivan Trevino, which I highly recommend listening to. I'll have a link to Youtube over on my Tumblr (QuantumStateofMindAyee) and try to keep my little authors notes there. I don't own the rights to Frozen, but I own this idea. Welcome to my Firebreather. Enjoy the ride.

Chapter 01: Catching Shadows

They shouldn't have come here.

Shame had nothing to do with it—something was in the air—something shadowy, dangerous and undeniably bigger than them all. Like it could swallow them whole the moment they stepped into the forest just on the other side of the bridge.

Pride kept Anna from mentioning the bile of fear rising in her throat while they trekked here upon their discovery that the main entrance had been locked with no obvious way inside. Anna was relieved, but, of course, Hans had dug into the archives in town and figured out there was an older and less-known entrance nearby.

"Give it here," Hans said, squaring his shoulders, and beckoning for the sword at her hip, "Since you're so worried about disappointing Shang, I'll swing it for you."

Anna exhaled sharply, gripping the leather scabbard even tighter, "That doesn't fix anything!"

"It does too." he chimed, completely calm, except for the angry glow of his green eyes.

"Hans, please."

His lips pursed in annoyance. He took a calming breath, threading a hand through his hair, while the other rubbed at the tightness forming in his temple. Now? They were doing this now?

"Olaf is starving and you're just going to—"

Thunk

"Just take it," Anna huffed, ignoring the gasp of pain behind her in favor of stomping off into the shadows.

That incident had been a while ago, at least, she thought. The forest had a talent for turning minutes into hours and hours into minutes. Either way, her irritation had faded away as she navigated the hidden trails with practiced ease. Leaves crackled noisily beneath her feet with every step. The branches littering the forest floor were spared from her tromping, only because she had forgone her shoes tonight. Which reminded her...

The forest was sickly.

Black mud stuck to her toes, leaving sticky, translucent strands of something binding her to the forest floor. A blue mist was hissing around her calves.

The last time they had hunted in this forest was easily a month ago, but her memory was in good enough condition to know something was amiss. The first (obvious) indicator was that the island elders had made them swear to stay clear of the area ever since ominous storm clouds had appeared over the forest on an otherwise sunny day. They brought no rain, despite the fact they swelled and groaned with a quiet thunder.

From then on, their hunting ground became known as The Forbidden Forest.

Members of the seaside village were outraged at first, but as with many other things, their opinion had faded into quiet murmurs of disagreement and the situation was merely an inconvenience in their lives.

For Anna and her brothers, it was the same as being sentenced to starvation.

"Go to the sea! Plenty of fish there," they said.

"A garden would suit you fine," another said.

Seeds and a net costed money—money the four of them didn't have; at this point, the youngest of the four, Olaf, was more of a handicap than an asset to their family. The messy haired little boy was constantly hungry and outgrowing his clothes, but much too scrawny for work. Besides, he seemed most content to wander the island and visit the flowers and butterflies, rather than toil on the neighbor's farm with Kristoff, or stay inside organizing the library with Hans. Anna herself studied under the island's very own swordsman, Shang; even though her work mostly consisted of the upkeep of his armor and weaponry (sometimes cleaning the dojo from bottom to top), it did grant her ownership of a decent bow and sword.

The ground on her right dipped suddenly, and Anna nearly tripped over her own feet in surprise.

Deer, she thought excitedly, dropping to her knees, and fanning the mist away to exam the oval print.

The edges were fresh, and sunk low into the earth. A quick glance at her own tracks revealed she had barely left an indent.

And judging by the distance between the tracks, it was a fairly large deer—possibly a stag, but Anna wasn't quite as skilled as Kristoff in that regard.

Maybe I'll have him teach me, she made a face, on a day he doesn't work with the hogs.

Her stomach gurgled happily at the thought of fresh meat—Hans could probably find a recipe book somewhere within the library—that would be much more filling than the carrots Kristoff had been bringing home lately.

"I don't have anything to kill it with," Anna whined, grasping frantically at her hip for her trusty sword, but coming up empty-handed.

Of course, Hans had to have it.

The red-haired boy was likely still mad at her—especially after she had flung her sword at him earlier—but Anna had no intent whatsoever to apologize. Shang had asked her specifically not to go into the woods. Rather, if they were hungry, his home was always open to them.

"While I appreciate the honest offer," Hans had grumbled, hastily withdrawing a leather-bound book from the shelf and shoving it into his sister's arms, "We don't need pity."

And that was end of discussion.

An off-handed comment from Kristoff gave Hans the idea that by declining the offer, they could enter the forest without repercussions. And if that was true, why did it feel like she had betrayed the oriental man when she had hacked away at the thicket blocking the old entrance?

Anna grunted, halting that train of thought when her cheeks flushed with anger.

"Stupid, stupid, Hans."

She wasn't left with many options: Either follow the tracks deeper within the woods and attempt to take down a potentially massive creature with her own two hands, or go back to the entrance and wait on the other three for Gods knew how long.

Discomfort coursed through her veins at the thought of trudging along in this disgusting mud any longer.

She nearly whimpered at the thought of waiting.

Deeper it was.

Anna wondered if it was normal to be this on-edge in the forest. Olaf would probably say it wasn't, but then again, he had conversations with trees. So, maybe he wasn't the best person to ask about that. Still, that feeling of being watched continued to chill her to the core, making her wish for something much thicker than her tunic to hide beneath.

Better to focus on the thrumming of her heart and keeping her breath steady.

"Okay, Anna, let's not think about what could go wrong out here," she grit her teeth, "with no weapon."

"Alone," she sighed.

A change in scenery told Anna she was nearing the meadow they frequented as children. The ground was harder here and consisted of mostly tall grass, although it was nearly invisible beneath the fog. She trudged dutifully up the incline, ignoring the ache in her legs in favor of gaining ground.

It seemed so long ago—that day they had reenacted The Legend of Jinn. A smile tugged on her cheeks at the memory.

Everything seemed so colorful back then. The sun was warm. The future was bright.

Life was still a challenge then, but it was simple enough. They would work as much as they could; if they didn't have enough money to pay for anything, the store owners and merchants were pretty lax about their tab. Batting their eyes often got them extra; who could deny them? Four children. No known mother or father. To let them suffer seemed immoral. But, as their childhood disappeared, so had their special treatment.

The mist was denser here, rolling in agitated waves. It was odd seeing such a happy place (in her memories) look so dark and...hopeless.

Teal eyes roved over the empty space, tracing over the dark shadows that lingered below the tree line. It seemed counterintuitive to look in the darkness for something to scare her, but was necessary. Nothing was more irritating than frightening away game.

Speak of the devil, her stag was calmly grazing in the center of the clearing.

As unappealing of an idea it was, the best option was to use the mist as coverage, sneak up on the poor creature and...

Her hands felt clammy.

She'd have to strangle it to death.

Her stomach twisted into knots, but the hunger was clear. And hunger motivated people to do shameful things.

Just take a deep breath, she thought, sinking below the mist and parting the grass.

Carefully, she began crawling down the small hill, moving painfully slow. Every moment or so, she'd peek over the grass, verify her target hadn't fled, and continue on her way.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Anna could see the fur pulled taut over the stag's hock. She thanked The Gods she had been down-wind, or else the creature would have bolted long ago at her scent.

Now that she was up-close, the reality of the situation was setting in: Kill, or, potentially, be killed.

She could always turn back. Crawling backwards up the hill would be taxing, sure, but it was doable. Her hands would be morally clean.

"Family is everything", Hans had once said.

She took a deep breath, and let her eyes harden, as they focused on where she thought the head would be.

3...

I'm so sorry.

2...

Suddenly, the deer let out a terrified bark, and dashed away.

She froze.

"Hello."

Her mouth opened of its own accord, but no sound came out. She glanced around the fog uncertainly. Was that voice a figment of her imagination? Anna held her breath and waited.

"Hello."

It sounded happy. Out of place. Her mind wracked with the possibilities of who else would be in the forest (besides Kristoff, Olaf, Hans, and herself). A fellow islander? Impossible. She knew everyone here. A bird? No.

"You. In the grass."

The redhead bit back a silent groan. Of course, someone had caught her here and frightened away her game.

She stood, cringing in disgust at the dark, sticky stains on her palms.

"Hello." the voice called again, and Anna nearly jumped out of her skin.

A cloaked figure lingered at the edge of the woods. Even from this distance, she noted the dinginess of the fabric, not unlike her own tunic. Yet, no matter how much she squinted, there was no detectable face beneath the hood.

"Who are you?" Anna called back, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "Are you from here?"

A shiver crept up her spine—a distorted, whisper of her own voice echoing back to her.

The figure began walking—no, floating—towards her, and the tattered ends of the cloak began twisting and curling above the mist like whips.

Her hands balled into fists at her side, as she unconsciously began taking a defensive stance.

It halted as quickly as it started, and Anna breathed a sigh of relief.

"Is this a dream?"

There was no response, but she could feel its gaze raking over her, studying her intently.

Pinching herself confirmed she was, indeed, very much awake.

Anna found herself stifling an awkward cough behind a trembling fist, "Mister—um, can I call you that? Do you mind? Ah, anyway, I'm not sure what you're doing here, but you should probably go before the elders come looking."

Again, no response. Anna told herself it was just her imagination, but the cloaked figure seemed to look deeper within her. It made her skin itch.

"Well," Anna chirped, wincing at how strained her voice sounded, but managing to keep the smile on her face, "I'm going home now."

"I've lost something," it whispered, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, "Can...you...help?"

It was closer now. If she reach out, she could easily take the musty fabric in her hands.

Gods, the stench—no, the pervading cold that radiated from the figure's body! More than physical cold. This cold made her feel hopeless. Trapped within her body. The voice inside her head was screaming, clawing frantically at the walls inside her mind.

Get out.

Get away.

Run!

But another voice screamed for her to hold her ground. To not seem weak, no matter the danger to her life.

To not move a muscle when it raised the sleeve of its cloak—dripping with black goop—as if to touch her. There was no hand. Just black shadows forming a tendril.

Her heart was pounding furiously.

"Armisael," it groaned.

Before she could think, the shadows had looped around her throat and squeezed tightly, lifting her into the air

"Where is the egg, Armisael?" a scratchy voice demanded.

"Let me go," Anna squeaked, clawing at her throat in an attempt to free herself, "I don't know who—"

"Where did you hide it?" another voice interrupted, this one was desperate.

The pressure around her throat spiked suddenly, making her gasp for breath.

"Give it to me." a third despaired.

"I-I don't—please."

The spots of darkness in her vision were quickly gaining ground; her strength was fading.

Gods, someone had to save her.

Her hand moved on its own, reaching beneath the darkness of the hood, and pushing—

With a whoosh, the figure released her, writhing in agony and shielding (what she imagined was) its face. Plumes of grey smoke hissed into the air.

Spluttering, Anna stumbled to her feet (nearly face-planting in the process, but somehow managing to catch herself). The grass beneath her sizzled and the sight of her red-glowing palms made her breath grow short—what did she do?

But her life was more important than trying to figure that out, and with that in mind, Anna charged into the forest without looking back.

Wind whipped around her, deafening her ears to the demonic cries echoing behind her. Thickets of thorns bit into her skin. Her lungs ached with numbness.

"Kristoff!"

"Hans!"

"Olaf!"

The shadows had begun lengthening, and twisting into unrecognizable shapes. Maybe, it was just her fear-frenzied brain, but it sounded like they were mocking her. Laughing. Like children.

"Hans, Kristoff, and Olaf."

Her tunic snagged on a low-hanging branch.

"Die here."

Other branches followed, rough bark twisting around her wrists and legs, and paying no heed to her flying kicks and punches.

"Lose yourself with us," the shadows whispered, giggling in delight.

"No," Anna gritted back.

The sound of rustling bushes and snapping branches in the darkness made her shriek and redouble her efforts.

"Stay with us," they begged.

"Let me go," the redhead said, throwing her weight forward, and digging her feet into the ground, "I have a family!"

"Stay—"

Often, people say that time slows in moments of great fear—how false that was; the truth was that it happened very quickly.

Warmth exploded in her veins, coiling along the muscles in her arm, and pooling in her fingertips.

"I said no!"

A golden light surged from her fingertips, and Anna found herself falling for the second time that night.

Fire, she noted with awe, watching the orange tips swarm the shadows.

Wow.

Her head collided with something solid and her world faded into darkness.

Somewhere within the night, a light began pulsing—like the color of blood.

She inhaled; the smell of smoke immediately permeated her senses. A splitting pain erupted on the back of head with that simple movement, jarring her awake with a scowl. Teal eyes snapped shut when her hand made contact with the throbbing wound.

A red glow briefly illuminated the ravine, and in her peripheral, Anna glimpsed the charred bark of trees looming far above her. Her groggy mind persuaded her to brush the observation off; with some effort, the redhead began taking account of all her limbs: wiggling her fingers and toes, rolling out the kinks in her back, and carefully stretching her legs in the darkness.

The light pulsed again—demandingly.

A red firefly? Anna wondered, reflecting on all her childhood memories for any such bug.

If it was a bug, it was an awfully big one; whatever it was, was roughly the size of her forearm.

Cautiously, Anna brushed away the leaves and mud obscuring the object from view. She jumped slightly when her fingertips came in contact with a smooth, stone-like surface.

The pulsing, which had grown more frequent as she drew closer, halted.

The glassy surface, although speckled with sand and mud, gave way to a sparkling bloody sunset. An inhuman heat seeped into her bones.

Her breath had begun coming short again.

What is this?

The clouds began rolling, as if possessed by a breeze.

I feel whole.

Her heart was threatening to fly out of her chest, as she carefully lifted the object from its nook and cradled it to her chest. It warmed at the touch, making shivers race across her spine and a pleased groan escape from her parted lips. Her eyes slid shut.

It's an egg.

Her eyes shot open.

"It's an egg." Anna gasped, completely horrified, as memories of the events preceding rushed into the forefront of her mind. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry right now.

"Anna?"

"Kristoff?" she shouted, perking up instantly, as she began searching the darkness for any sign of her older brother.

A lamplight appeared above her, revealing the burly boy's questioning gaze.

"What are you doing?" Kristoff cracked a small smile, kneeling down, and casting the lantern over the side to get a better look.

"Glad you're here—listen, we have to go," she responded, tucking the egg to her chest, and scrambling up the small hill, "Where's Olaf? Is he still with you?"

"Anna, what happened to Gregory?" the little boy in question asked, deciding to poke his head out from the shadows, as he gently stroked the burnt bark of the tree nearest to him.

The blonde boy turned, casting the lamplight in Olaf's direction.

With a hum, he strode forward and rapped his knuckles against the black surface, "Odd way for it to burn."

Anna made a panicked grab for the lantern, "More important things happening right now, Kris."

Kristoff grunted, easily swatting her hand aside, "Like?"

The redhead froze, wracking her brain for a good way to begin this conversation.

Olaf, after he had given his tree friend a loving pat, raised a chubby finger to Anna's side, "What's that?"

"I think it's an egg," Anna bit her lip, shifting uneasily, "We should go. Now. Right now."

"Can we eat it—ow!"

"No, we're not eating it."

"Then why did you get an egg instead of a deer or a hare?" Kristoff grumbled, rubbing his shoulder where the shorter girl had punched him.

"I found it." Anna answered simply, squeezing the egg against her side protectively.

"Finders keepers." Olaf sang, skipping to her side to get a closer look.

"Okay, you found it," Kristoff snatched the back of Olaf's shirt and pulled the younger boy to his side, "And the problem is?"

"I think someone is looking for it."

"So," Kristoff sighed, gingerly lifting their little brother to his shoulders, "We give it back. Simple."

"I didn't say it belonged to them," Anna huffed, pursing her lips.

Kristoff raised an eyebrow at her, but remained silent. It seemed simple enough to him; they didn't need the extra trouble, so why not just let this mystery person have the egg? He settled for giving her an expectant look.

"Will you just trust me when I say they give me a bad feeling?" Anna asked, giving the older boy a puppy-dog stare.

"Let's keep it!" Olaf added, excitedly tugging at long, blonde locks, and leaning into the boy's ear, "A pet dragon!"

Kristoff's head whipped towards Anna, "It's a dragon?"

Anna nearly dropped the egg in surprise, "I didn't say that."

"That doesn't mean no," Olaf whispered, covering his mouth as if Anna wouldn't hear—which she clearly could considering he had covered the wrong side of his mouth.

The air grew cold and the lantern's light poofed into smoke.

"Hide," Anna whispered, grabbing Kristoff by his shirt, and shoving him into an inconspicuous looking bush.

"Why are we hiding?" Olaf had attempted to whisper, but it came out much louder than intended.

Anna hushed him, placing a hand over his mouth, "Don't talk."

"You just broke that rule," Kristoff breathed, wincing when a branch jabbed his cheek.

The redhead swallowed the retort bubbling in her throat, choosing to tuck the egg beneath her tunic.

It was a horrible plan—to just wait here, listening to the snapping branches and moans of the forest. That thing could appear out of nowhere and snatch them from this bush if it pleased, she imagined.

After a moment of silence, warm breath tickled her ear, "I know we're not supposed to be talking, but what exactly did you get yourself into?"

Anna waited a beat, "I'm not sure."

Truth.

He sighed, "How then?"

"I don't know that either."

Not entirely a lie.

In the dark, her expression soured, as memories of fire danced behind her eyes. Her fingers twitched. A heat against her side reminded her of the egg's presence.

Kristoff grunted, shifting Olaf (who was oddly silent) in his lap, "You know there's a dragon in…"

"The Legend of Jinn, I know, I know." Anna finished for him, feeling herself grow irritated suddenly.

There was no way this was the egg. Absolutely none; life wasn't the fairy tale many children dreamed of.

"You found it. Maybe it's a sign you're the—"

The sound of movement to their left made Kristoff fall silent. Olaf huddled into Kristoff's chest, knotting his hands in the white fabric with a vice grip.

They waited.

The sound of sloshing water rang across the darkness, followed by a mumbled curse that sounded like something that would be said by...

"Hans!" Anna shouted, springing from their hiding place, and charging into the red blur.

Hans, unable to see her in the dark, shoved her roughly to the ground, and grasped the hilt of Anna's sword with shaking hands—ready to strike if needed. The air was heavy with tension.

"It's just me," Anna said, holding her hands out in a non-threatening manner.

Despite the lack of light, Anna could see the boy was deeply disturbed. His hair had fallen forward and lain across his nose in stringy strands, perfectly framing the pale green of his eyes. His skin was a ghostly white.

His posture relaxed, "Anna?"

She nodded several times.

"Thank Gods you're okay," Hans sighed, wrapping her in painfully tight hug.

"We're okay too. Don't thank The Gods for us," Kristoff huffed behind them, picking dirt from Olaf's tunic.

Hans shot the boy a look over her shoulder, before oh'ing and leaning back to stare at the space between his sister and himself, "What's this?"

Anna tried to suppress her nervous laughter, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and pulled Hans to his feet.

"An egg," she said, easing it from beneath her shirt.

"This is what he was looking for," Hans breathed, life suddenly returning to his eyes, "You do know what this is, right?"

"Yes."

"No."

Kristoff and Anna stared at Olaf, who gave them both an innocent look.

"We have to go," Hans interrupted, seizing Anna by the shoulders, and squeezing, "We'll take a boat and leave the island."

"Leave?" Kristoff's eyes widened.

"It's not safe here," Anna added, having a feeling her brother had ran into that cloaked figure as well.

"You guys are crazy," the blonde grabbed each of them by the shoulder, "What are we going to do for food? Or money?"

Hans gingerly plucked his hand away, "We'll come back after a few days. For the record, there are also these things called fish and not only are they edible, Kristoff, but they also can be sold if needed."

Olaf made a hacking sound.

"See," Kristoff held the younger boy up, "We have to think about him too."

"I don't like fish." Olaf added, matter-of-factually.

"He hasn't tried it," Hans stated, crossing his arms.

Kristoff set Olaf down.

Hans turned to Anna, "Give me the egg."

A near-imperceptible flash of red from the egg made her tense.

"Why?"

Hans looked baffled for a moment, "Because I said so, Anna."

The egg darkened with clouds.

"She found it, Hans," Kristoff interjected, "At least let her hold it for now."

Hans glared daggers at the older boy, but nodded stiffly, "Let's go."

And the egg calmed.

The egg sat in her lap, swaddled in layers of cloth; Anna imagined it was shivering with cold. She sighed, pressing her head into her knees, and nuzzling the bundle. The least she could do was protect it from the icy rain that fell from the heavens.

"Push!"

The wooden boat swayed as another wave crashed to shore.

Hans and Kristoff clamored over the sides of the boat (after insuring another wave wouldn't push them back), each taking an oar and feverously driving it into the darkened water.

The sky over the horizon was black and Anna had a feeling they weren't coming home.