Chapter Text
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, I've come to terms with the fact that I need to make an Author's Note regarding the Author's Notes. I thrive on information—and I won't deny that I can be super, SUPER long-winded (citation: This Fanfiction!), when it comes to sharing what I believe to be relevant information, especially when combined with the hopeless fantasy of wanting to send comfort/advice to my younger self (which I often project onto my readers, on the assumption that you are both A) young, and B) like me, even though I've learned that both of those distinctions are often the opposite of the truth). And I really WANT to respond to everybody—especially when Author's Notes are my only option for doing so (read: Guest Reviews). But I don't want to do this:
The Author Ego Trap
1. Author writes something from their heart, which ends up inevitably shining through with their personal beliefs/experiences.
2. These beliefs/experiences apparently resonate with some people, and Author thus acquires a small amount of fame/success/following/etc. from Said People.
3. "Wow, I must be a guru. Okay, I'm really super wise, so now I'm going to use my writing to endlessly lecture everybody about every random opinion that's ever passed through my brain. Because I know everything and I owe it to them."
(No, I'm not just talking about fanfiction. I've actually watched a few of my formerly favorite professional authors fall prey to this, and… it's just sad. It's always sad, largely because they don't seem to realize how much the pressure of having an audience is negatively affecting their writing. Like, it's very noble to want to "use your power to influence good," but there's a fine line between accepting responsibility and dragging out a soapbox.)
Therefore, even though I have some long-and-involved responses to some people, I think I might need to just start summarizing in the notes (AS MUCH AS I CAN; WE ALL KNOW I HAVE ISSUES WITH BREVITY), and offer my, ah, extremely valuable and not at all long-winded *COUGH* mini-rants upon request. I will get back to you as soon as I can, I promise! The fact that people honestly seem to want me to yell at them about Jelsa is both baffling and enthralling to me!
Regarding ELSA'S PERSONALITY TYPE: People (mis?)categorizing her as an INFJ is actually a huge pet peeve of mine, because I strongly believe that Elsa is an INTJ with emotional disorders (anxiety/depression), who was actually made into an INFJ for the sequel. Full rant/analysis available upon request.
Regarding THE SHOULDER PADS, because of the last chapter: My problem with them wasn't that they didn't "look good" (because they did), but that they failed to symbolically represent Elsa as a character. For contrast, I believe that the Dark Sea outfit was costume design perfection. Full rant/analysis available upon request, but here's a summary:
Frozen Creators: (*gives very long and involved explanation of the colors, fabrication, textures, etc. used in Elsa's dress designs to stay consistent with the character*)
Also Frozen Creators: "Uh, Elsa doesn't have a signature silhouette, right? Nothing culture-shatteringly iconic or anything? Okay, great, because little girls everywhere are going to FLIP over this lightly-bedazzled office jacket."
Aaaaaand… okay, shutting up for now. You are all AMAZING AND DELIGHTFUL, thank you for your continued support, I love you all, thanks for reading, and I hope you have a fantabulous day!
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79: Three Days
It was the throbbing in his skull that woke him.
Disoriented, Jack Frost stifled a groan, the dull ache prodding him back into consciousness as he pulled in a dizzying breath. Where was he? His chin still resting on his chest, the winter spirit rolled his head to the side, debating on whether or not it was worth forcing himself to lift it up. Because—
Ow.
A chair.
I'm tied to a chair, Jack realized, stretching out his fingers and reluctantly letting his eyes start to open. With—yes, that was a rope. Because he'd been knocked out. Using—something. Something hard. Some sort of bludgeon. Mother of North, that had been a swing. Not to mention, that someone had dragged his body in here. Who was mad at him now? It must have been some really big guy, to take him down like that. Kristoff? No, he'd just—well, not Eugene, either. Maybe the Council had tracked him down somehow? Maybe it had been multiple big guys, working together. But they'd have had to believe in him. They—
"Struggling," a feminine voice suddenly rang out a voice, "Struggling is pointless!"
Huh?
Jack lifted his head to look up from his lap and locate the source of the sound. Before him in the faint light stood the extremely petite Princess Rapunzel, and her equally petite, enormously pregnant cousin Anna. As his eyes fell onto the cast iron frying pan in Rapunzel's hands, Jack felt the distinct sensation of nausea sweep over his body.
You have GOT to be kidding me.
Blushing furiously, the Guardian swallowed a lump of humiliation. Staring at the two delicate young women in disbelief—one of them wearing a deep green maternity dress, and the other a lavender jumper—he let out his breath.
Bunnymund. Was never. Finding out about this.
"But we were—" Jack cut himself off, moistening his lips and letting out a cough. "How—?"
His voice trailing off, he squinted at the two young women standing before him.
"Oh!" Rapunzel bubbled, gesturing to the frying pan, "I knocked you out. And then we tied a rope to you, dragged and lowered you down, and now we're here."
He coughed again. Besides his head, he didn't feel all that beaten up. "You dragged me?"
"Well—half dragged, half carried."
"Just the two of you?" Jack shook himself, now completely awake. "No guards helping or anything?"
Anna shook her head. "You're invisible to them."
"So, just us."
Great.
"That must have—uh," Jack tried again, in vague desperation as he eyed Anna's pregnant stomach, "Been—really hard. For you."
"Oh, no. Not at all," she bubbled, "You are extremely light."
"Eugene is easily twice your weight," Rapunzel nodded, "And, I can tell you, HE is hard to lug around unconscious. I mean, he carries most of it in muscle—"
"—And not to mention how much bigger Kristoff—"
"—Ladies! Ladies!" Jack interrupted, rolling his eyes with a sarcastically bitter chuckle, "Stop it! You're flattering me."
"What?" Anna looked to him in complete innocence. "We're just saying, we didn't really have any trouble getting you in here. You're light as a feather. Light. As. A. Feather!"
She giggled at the thought, holding her pregnant stomach and giving her head a shake before looking to the beaming Princess Rapunzel, who laughed a bit as well. Glancing back in Jack's direction—and finally noticing his now-tortured expression—Queen Anna's smile dropped.
"A very masculine feather," she corrected quickly.
Jack felt blood rushing to his face.
"Thanks, Anna," he muttered. "Are you two always this charming?"
"You're here because we're charming," Rapunzel retorted. "Anna and I want to help you, and—"
"Yeah. I love being knocked out with a frying pan, tied up, and dragged down into some dark, creepy hallway." Jack looked around himself, pulling at the ropes. "Wait. Where the blizzards are we?"
The girls shared a look. After a moment, Rapunzel nodded.
Anna stepped into the light, coming towards him and drawing herself up. "This," she proclaimed, "Is: The War Room. We need to trust you not to tell Elsa."
"And so," Rapunzel added as she stepped up to his chair as well, "We've brought you somewhere you'll never find again."
Jack raised his eyebrows, glancing up and down the dark hallway. After a few moments, he looked to the women once again.
"We're in that—tunnel—thingy, under the throne room, aren't we?"
Rapunzel jolted.
CLANG.
.
.
.
Swaying back into consciousness, and feeling that he was still tied to the stupid chair, Jack Frost could hear the girls whispering to each other from where they must have been standing only a few feet away.
"I still can't believe he's real."
"I know, right?"
"He's colder than I thought."
"Agreed. I thought my fingers were going to freeze, getting him down here!"
"And through a thick shirt!"
"I know! He's even colder than Elsa."
"Any idea how old he is?"
"Older than her."
"By—"
"—A lot. But Elsa doesn't seem to m—"
Jack groaned dramatically, cutting them off before they could keep discussing how creepily ancient he was. Coughing, he gave his head a vigorous shake.
"WHAT IS IT WITH THIS FAMILY, AND INTERROGATING ME?!" he sputtered, "Is this just how you people say hello? Every time I meet another one of you, I get thrown in a holding cell, tied up, knocked out, or Manny knows what! What do you people do at family reunions, drag out the rack?!"
"Oh!" Rapunzel said cheerily, "You're awake!"
"That was fast," Anna added, "You weren't out for all tha—"
"—Hey! Oh!" Jack interrupted. "Anybody wanna tell me why I'm here?"
Glancing around again, he could see that the girls had dragged him, in the chair, about some thirty feet down the tunnel and turned him around. Which was apparently supposed to throw him off.
Not—as he eyed Rapunzel's frying pan—that he was planning on saying anything.
Stepping forward, Elsa's sister pulled in her breath, thwapping her scepter against her opposite palm. Ah—and she was still wearing her crown, too. "You," the young queen started again, this time more pointedly, "Are here LOT of reasons. But before we begin, we have some… questions."
Jack's eyebrow twitched as he looked up into her face. Suddenly, there wasn't even a hint of friendliness in Anna's expression, her gaze now as cold as ice.
Delightful.
He let out his breath. "Questions," Jack sighed. "Of course there are questions."
"Well, they're mostly all based off the same root question, which is the entire reason we decided that we needed to organize this meeting."
"Which is…?"
Elsa's sister and cousin exchanged a glance. Crossing her arms over her chest—the scepter still in her hand—Queen Anna turned back to Jack with a glare.
"We need to know what your intentions are with my sister," she said coldly.
Jack's mouth went dry.
Feeling the sense of dread sweeping over him, he broke eye contact and looked down. It wasn't like he hadn't been expecting this, but…
Eh, heh.
"It should interest you to learn—Mr. Frost," Anna enunciated, making the Spirit of Winter instinctually cringe, "That Rapunzel and I have had a fascinating—if not illuminating—experience, watching you and Elsa over the last few days."
Jack gulped, squirming against the ropes. "Uh, really."
"Really," Rapunzel added. Taking a step towards him, she ran her fingers along the edge of the frying pan, raising an eyebrow.
Jack stopped moving.
"And after a bit of a discussion during the carriage ride this morning," Rapunzel continued, "We decided that it was time to bring you in."
"Bring me in?"
"HERE'S the thing," Queen Anna declared, turning away from him and beginning to pace, "We know that Elsa isn't exactly—experienced. Nor is she good at picking up on signals. And we know that she has a soft spot for YOU, personally. But just because a young woman with ice powers is lugging around an entire childhood's worth of ice-powers-specific daddy issues—"
Jack jolted, his eyes bulging. "ICE POWERS SPECIFIC—"
"It does not," Anna gritted, swinging around and pointing at him with the scepter, "Mean that you get to just—FLY IN, and take ADVANTAGE of the SITUATION!"
The Spirit of Winter opened his mouth and then closed it again, completely at a loss for words. His face drained of color. He'd known about Elsa's father. And all of her fangirling, adolescent "research" about him. But connecting the dots…
I'm sorry, he thought. You lost me at, 'Ice Powers Specific Daddy Issues.'
He swallowed hard. Jack Frost abruptly felt a little sick, a lot stupid, and just the tiiiiiniest bit dirty.
Noticing the Guardian's expression, Rapunzel twisted her lips to the side. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning towards Anna.
"You probably shouldn't have told him that," she admitted.
"Well, I thought it was obvious."
"Look," Jack squeaked, "Anna—"
She leveled him with a fierce glare.
"Erm—Queen—Anna," he corrected nervously, making Elsa's little sister nod, "I'm not trying to take advantage of anything. I mean, I didn't know—uh, realize anything about—!"
The tension lessening, Queen Anna's face fell. Rapunzel, looking concerned, walked over and placed her hand on Anna's shoulder. Anna glanced in her direction, giving a nod of thanks.
"Our father loved Elsa," the young queen said quietly, "He was a good man."
In his mind's eye, Jack Frost was suddenly seeing an entire drawer filled with child-sized gloves.
Drawing in a cleansing breath, he forced the instant fury back down. The Guardian raised his eyebrows.
"You sure about that?" Jack whispered.
"Yes," Anna retorted, "Because he legitimately tried his best—even though he clearly didn't know what to do. Like, I can't just rewrite him to be some kind of super-supportive teddy bear of a man, but I think the intent makes a difference—even if it ended up doing more harm than good. I mean, misguided attempts at helping aren't the same as abuse."
Jack's eyes narrowed. "Well, I think it WAS abuse."
"And I," Queen Anna said forcefully, her eyes suddenly filled with fire, "Think that you don't know MY FATHER!"
Jack froze, his eyes wide. A thick, tense silence fell over the group as Anna glared him down with a gaze so sharp it could have sliced through woolen fabric.
Resisting the urge to shrink into his chair, he then glanced away once again, clearing his throat.
"All of Elsa's—uh—issues—aside, though," Jack tried again, verbally tripping over the words, "I—I'm not trying to take advantage. I swear."
Anna didn't look convinced. Her eyes narrowing, she studied him skeptically.
"Elsa's my friend," Jack added.
To this, Anna raised her eyebrows. "So," she repeated carefully, "You want to be friends with my sister."
He nodded. "Yeah. I—"
"—Just friends?"
Jack opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Closing it and then opening it again, his cheeks flushed, and he sheepishly cast his gaze towards the ground.
"More than friends," he whispered.
Silence.
Crossing her arms over her chest—and still holding the golden scepter—Queen Anna nodded once, her lips pressed together. Rapunzel watched without speaking as well, waiting for the Guardian to surrender more information as the tension of the quiet increased. Clearly, the girls were expecting more of an explanation out of him.
Shifting uncomfortably against the ropes in his chair, Jack Frost let out his breath. "Look," he stammered, "I just—really like Elsa. Okay? And we have a ton in common, and—and I've been around for long enough to know that I—"
He cut himself off. Swallowing, he tried again.
"I'm never finding another one," he choked softly. "Of her. I am never finding another Elsa."
Falling quiet, he squirmed beneath both the ropes and their gazes for a few long, uncomfortable moments.
"Wait," Rapunzel ventured, taking a step forward, "So—you are seriously trying to date her? Like—for a relationship?"
Jack's heart started pounding. "Uh—"
"To exclusively date Elsa, for a potentially long-term, committed relationship, with no one else involved," Anna pressed, "As boyfriend and girlfriend, and potentially, eventually, leading to—something—longer-term?"
Jack blushed, feeling strangely exposed. Staring down at his lap, he didn't respond.
"Potentially leading to marriage," Anna clarified.
Jack swallowed. Once again shifting in the chair, he awkwardly kicked at the floor.
"Well…" he muttered. "Kinda the… point… of dating…?"
A final, long silence fell over the room.
At last, he couldn't take the suspense any longer. Hesitantly looking up, Jack was shocked to realize that Queen Anna's previous glare had vanished, her eyes wide, staring at him with sudden comprehension. The expression morphing into one of excitement, she looked at Rapunzel, whose demeanor had shifted as well.
"Why?" Jack demanded, "What were you thinking I—"
"—Doesn't matter," Anna said, barely containing a smile, "This is gonna be a cinch. Rapunzel?"
Elsa's cousin nodded, looking like she was restraining from beaming herself. "Something brought you here, Jack Frost," Rapunzel declared, tossing her frying pan to her opposite hand and pointing with it as she started to walk towards him. "Rightnow, right as Elsa's having to make some HEFTY life choices. Fate… destiny…"
"Being tossed through a magic portal…"
"So we have made the decision to help you."
Jack's eyes widened.
"Help me?" he asked. "What do yo—"
"—Look this way."
Using the frying pan like a teacher's pointer, she suddenly swept her arm to the side, towards a part of the hallway he hadn't yet noticed. Following her gesture, Jack realized that Elsa's cousin was directing his gaze to a portrait, brightly colored, and sitting on an easel. Brown hair, pearly-white teeth…
Frederik.
The shock of seething hatred jolted through him instantly, and Jack's fingers clenched. Struggling to remain calm, he rolled his eyes, his jaw ticking.
Rapunzel drew herself up. "Do you know who this is?" she demanded.
Jack shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant. "Yep. Sure do," he gritted, unable to keep the edge off his voice, "Prince Wonderful. I'm afraid I haven't had the privilege of being—formally introduced."
He forced a smile, his lip curling. Queen Anna raised her eyebrows as Rapunzel nodded, gesturing to the painting with the frying pan.
"This," she announced, "Is: The Enemy."
Jack's eyes widened. "Uh—thank you."
"Who is currently the one most likely to win Elsa."
"Thank you less."
"Jack… it's true," Anna said quietly. "I know Elsa better than you do. If she has to choose between her heart and her mind, Elsa will always—always—choose her mind."
From where he was tied to the chair, Jack Frost raised a single eyebrow.
"Except for that one time," Anna corrected, "But that was different. The Spirits kind of freaked her out."
"I've heard."
"She was hearing VOICES."
"Good enough excuse." Shifting against the ropes, he glanced back at the painting. "Did you really just paint that today?" he asked Rapunzel.
Elsa's cousin shrugged. "Um—yes. I did."
"It's—really good."
"Thanks."
His eyes widening slightly, Jack studied it for a moment, taking in all the styling and detail that she had put into the piece. Just—wow. Impressive. He didn't think of himself as being much of an artist, but he could appreciate it when somebody else was.
"So," Jack started again, "Elsa does sculpture and design, Rapunzel paints, and…?"
He raised his eyebrows as a prompt, moving his gaze to Queen Anna's as his voice trailed off.
"OH, no. Don't look at me," she scoffed, "I'm completely ordinary. Elsa and Rapunzel sucked all the artistic talent out of the gene pool."
"Fair enough." Straining a bit against the ropes again, Jack looked back to the painting of Prince Frederik. He drew in his breath, trying to sound casual as his voice squeaked a bit, "Is—so, is there any particular reason he's shirtless, or…?"
"Oh!" Rapunzel blushed, "Um—well—"
"He—looks good," Anna shrugged, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she eyed the portrait.
Rapunzel beamed, looking to her. "I thought it would work for him."
"He pulls it off."
"Exactly!"
"Do you think you could do a painting of Kristoff? Maybe with some leather, but—"
Jack cleared his throat loudly, and the young women jolted, spinning around to face him. He raised his eyebrows.
"Are you two sure you're on my side here?" he scoffed in annoyance.
Rapunzel laughed shyly. "Honestly, I just painted him shirtless because it's what I'm used to," she admitted, "From a passing glance, Prince Frederik's height and build looked VERY similar to Eugene's. And, I'm pretty sure that I've painted at least forty or fifty full-body portraits of him, soooo…"
"Forty or fifty?"
"He likes it."
"Of course he does."
"ANYWAY," Queen Anna started again, giving her head a quick shake, "To get back to the matter at hand, what matters is that Elsa's stuck. She doesn't think she can have romance, because that's what her FEAR is telling her—that marrying for love would make her a bad queen."
"But she's not technically even the queen anymore."
"It's complicated. As is her logic as to why she can't have you," she pressed. "And if you want to win, then you have to convince her that she can."
"And in not very much time," Rapunzel chimed in.
"This isn't a head-vs-heart situation. It's a head vs head situation, but where the logical solution might actually BE the romantic, crazy-sounding one. Because choosing you over the Prince of Kingsley—well," Queen Anna reluctantly admitted, looking down and shifting her grip on the scepter, "From all appearances, that's not the respectable thing to do. It's the romantic thing to do. And if choosing you even looks like an irresponsible or selfish choice, she's probably going to reject the possibility before even considering it."
"Because, it would be TOTALLY romantic," Rapunzel sighed.
Anna straightened and looked to her. "They'd be so cute together!"
"Oh my gosh, right?"
"Little Winter Spirits!"
"Nature Snowflake Love!"
"AHEM," Jack cleared his throat again.
"Oh! Right!" Anna jolted, spinning around. "Here's the deal, Mister Jack Frost. IF you legitimately love my sister—"
"And IF," Rapunzel stepped forward, "You aren't just after a quick fling—"
"And IF," said Anna, "You are planning to man up and tell her that—"
"—THEN," Rapunzel declared, putting her hands on her hips. "And ONLY THEN—have we decided that we want Elsa to be with you. We want you to win."
Jack chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek again as he once again considered this new information, sitting up straighter in the chair. "I—uh," he stammered. "Thanks. But—why are we—here?"
Walking determinately over to the easel, Rapunzel picked up the painting of Prince Wonderful, setting it to the side. Behind it was a depiction of a spacious ballroom, decorated for Christmas, and a new realization dawned onto the Guardian.
Princess Rapunzel hadn't just turned out one full-scale professional-level painting in a day.
She'd painted several.
Mother of North… Jack realized. They're giving me a slideshow.
"Today," Queen Anna began, her crown glinting in the faint light, "Is December 20th. Which means that we have only four days until Christmas Eve."
"Christmas Eve? What's so important about…"
Jack's voice trailed off as Anna raised her eyebrows, thwapping her scepter against her opposite palm and waiting. She looked like an elementary school teacher, patiently waiting for a student to draw the obvious connections himself.
"The Ball," Jack finally realized, his eyebrows lifting. "You're talking about the Christmas Eve Ball."
She nodded. "There would be no better time to announce a royal engagement," Queen Anna declared, "Everybody's there, it's already scheduled… I've been trying to get an audience with Prince Frederik myself to see if I can sneakily figure out his plans, but so far, the Council has been booking him out for Elsa as MUCH as possible. They're REALLY trying to get this alliance finalized fast. Even though they just MET a couple of days ago, and—"
"—What's your point?"
Rapunzel and Anna exchanged looks once again. Her face grave, Rapunzel then turned to the easel, removing the painting of the ballroom and revealing another painting behind it.
Of Prince Frederik down on one knee, holding up a ring and proposing to Elsa.
"Our point," Queen Anna said softly, "Is that you can probably count on Christmas Eve as being your last chance."
Jack's eyes widened. His heart pounding as he stared at the horrifying picture, a cold panic started to bubble up inside of him.
Four days.
"And especially the Christmas Eve Ball itself," Rapunzel added, nodding towards the painting.
"Not to mention," Anna started again, "If you take into account that Elsa is probably going to be spending all of the 24th doing frantic final checks and preparations—"
"—Because she's a bit of a perfectionist—"
"—Then, realistically," the Snow Queen's sister finished, holding up three fingers, "You've got three days, Jack."
Squirming again in the chair, the Guardian swallowed. He gave his head a little shake.
"Okaaaaay," he started carefully, wishing that he could knead his eyebrows, "So—I'm on a tight deadline. Thanks for bringing me here to inform me."
He shifted to start to get up, only to be blocked by the ropes. Collapsing back into the chair, he scoffed under his breath in annoyance, reluctantly looking back up to the girls.
Who were staring at him in confusion.
"Jack…" Anna said, quieting her voice. "We are offering you our help."
A look of befuddlement swept over his features. "That… wasn't it?"
"Oh, heavens no. We were just making sure you were aware of your deadline."
Anna gestured, and Rapunzel turned to the easel once again, lifting off the terrible painting of Frederik and Elsa. Half-expecting the next picture to be something even worse, like Kingsley-and-Arendelle weddings or babies, Jack let out a silent sigh of relief to see that it was only a benign and heartless schedule.
"So, that's your timeline," Queen Anna started again pointing to it. "And if you don't get Elsa to commit to you before then—well, that's what this is for. A last minute emergency plan."
"So you know that you've got the option," Rapunzel added.
Option.
So—this wasn't actually a plan, as much as it was Anna and Rapunzel's assumption that he couldn't get Elsa on his own.
Ugh.
Jack sighed, looking down at the ropes across his arms. This conversation CLEARLY wasn't going anywhere useful, and especially if he needed to get a move-on, and now. Strangely, though, he'd now had enough experience being interrogated in this family that he knew how to properly respond.
Twisting his fingers in the air, a tiny, icy knife materialized in his hand, and he eased it underneath the twine to begin working it back and forth.
Shunhg-shunhg, shunhg-shunhg, shunhg-shunhg…
Jack looked back up at the girls, continuing to silently saw at the rope, and then to the schedule. "Bribe midwife?" he read with a scoff, "Why in the blizzards would bribe midwife be a part of the—"
"—PRINCESS RAPUNZEL and I will be creating a diversion," Anna interrupted, "That will inspire Elsa to end the party early."
Twang! Jack felt the first thread pop. Pretending that nothing was happening, he raised his eyebrows. "A diversion?"
"At which point," Rapunzel chimed in, lifting up the schedule and putting it to the side to unveil a beautiful painting of the Guardian holding hands with Elsa against a snowy mountain backdrop, "You will run in, scoop my cousin up into your arms, and fly her away to the most romantic evening of her entire life."
Twang! Another thread broke as Jack glowered.
"And I suppose you've got that choreographed out for me, too?" he said coldly.
"No. That part is your responsibility."
Jack stopped sawing, letting himself stare at the painting for a few moments. It was a nice picture. A really nice picture. Certainly, much better than that unintentionally sadistic one that Rapunzel had done of Elsa with Prince-Boy. But—
Why are they so sure that I can't do this myself?
"Look… ladies," he bristled, "I appreciate your—concern—but I think I'm doing FINE. I don't need your help, okay?"
Rapunzel and Anna exchanged glances.
"Yes, you do," Anna said softly.
"No, I—I really don't," Jack gritted, leaning against the rope and determinately sawing it as hard as he could, "Aaaaand, I—yeah, I think we're done here."
Twang!
The last thread in the rope snapped, the thick twine loosening around him. Jack got onto his feet, the girls gasping and leaping back in fear as he stepped out of the rope.
"Relax," he sighed, shrugging out of the last of the ropes as he stepped forward, "I'm just looking for my staff. And the way out."
Rapunzel looked to Anna again, biting her lip. Anna nodded defeatedly, and her cousin turned to walk down the tunnel away from them.
"Jack," Anna started again, looking back to him with empathy in her eyes, "If—well, just remember that Rapunzel and I are still here. And willing to help, if you do decide that you want help with El—"
"—I won't."
Jack pressed his lips together, looking back down the hallway as Rapunzel stepped into the light again, holding his shepherd's crook. Seeing that it was still all in one piece, Jack's shoulders relaxed slightly.
But only slightly.
"We could help you brainstorm," Rapunzel offered, offering the staff as Jack possessively snatched it away from her, "For Elsa with—"
"—Look," Jack huffed, "Just because girls was some big, dramatic—"
"—NOPE!" Anna and Rapunzel blurted in unison.
Jack Frost snapped his mouth shut as the two women stepped forward.
"Girls want clarity," Rapunzel started.
Anna nodded. "Honesty."
"Don't try to do this in front of everyone. That makes it all about you."
"And don't put on some big act."
"Don't pressure her into it."
"Be reassuring."
"And caring."
"And sincere."
"And NOT controlling."
"And you HAVE to be clear with her," Anna said, her voice a little stronger as Jack shied back an inch, "Especially since this is Elsa. You have to tell her exactly what you feel, and exactly what want."
"Clear and sincere."
"Clear and sincere."
"CLEAR AND SINCERE."
"Because—if you don't," Elsa's sister finished, seemingly unaware of Jack's expression, "You're going to lose her forever."
The Youngest Guardian stood, frozen, clutching his staff and blushing furiously. Looking back and forth between the two young women starting at him, he opened his mouth to say something, then closing it again a moment later.
What could he even say?
Defeated, Jack turned around, letting his staff fall back onto his shoulder and slumping towards the exit.
The thing was—he was trying, with Elsa. REALLY trying. And she clearly needed time, and maybe some more forceful hinting, but Jack was convinced that dragging more people into the situation wasn't going to help anything. It rarely did.
That being said… what was he supposed to do? Just… throw it all out there, like Anna and Rapunzel were so convinced he needed to? And risk losing it all?
The worst part about all of this was that Elsa was holding all of the power, and she didn't even know it.
"Well—I can promise you THIS, Mister Frost," Queen Anna's voice rang out from somewhere behind him, "If my sister comes to me all sad and freaking out one more time because of something you've done or said, then—"
"—Elsa's talked to you about me?"
Jack froze. Whirling around, he found a surprised-looking Anna and Rapunzel still many steps behind him, having not tried to follow.
Anna opened her mouth. "I—"
"—What did she say?" Jack pleaded, his eyes wide, "Tell me what she said! What, exactly, did she say!?"
His feet had unknowingly carried him a number of paces back towards them, closing some of the distance. The girls glanced at each other.
"I thought you didn't need our help," Queen Anna said coolly, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't! I'm just—!"
Jack's cheeks heated. Scoffing, he then tossed his staff to himself, catching it and turning away.
"You know what? Fine. Don't tell me," he huffed. "I don't need help. In fact, I'll just go and tell her right now."
"Well, manning up sooner rather than later has always been an option."
I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.
Without turning to look back, his heart pounding, Jack Frost paced to the end of the hallway, then sweeping his staff upwards with a gust of icy wind.
BANG!
The trapdoor blew open, crashing down to its side. Without using the ladder, he shot upwards into the air, bursting into the throne room above and flying out. Lighting down onto his feet, he then started the short walk through the castle towards what he was fairly certain was going to be the formal dining room.
He could do this. He could try again with Elsa—who, apparently, liked him enough to talk about him with her sister.
If she even likes YOU at all, whispered the voice of self-doubt in the back of his mind, If this is actually about YOU, and not just the IDEA of you. Because you're an older male figure with ice powers. When Elsa apparently has—
Jack mentally told that voice to shut it.
Ice Powers Specific—
Shut.
—Daddy Issues.
IT.
Deflating, he let out his breath. He wasn't a creep. Was he? It wasn't his fault that the amazing Snow Queen's father was a clueless pile of—not, uh, not winning any parenting awards. The past was in the past, anyway. And he wasn't here to take advantage of Elsa; he really liked her. He REALLY liked her. In fact, he was pretty sure that this could be real love—not to mention, from everything he'd seen, he was pretty sure that Elsa liked him, too. Maybe even just as much. So, all he had to do was try again with the proposal-of-relationship thing. Right?
Clear and sincere.
Could that really be all Elsa actually wanted?
With one more turn, he'd come to the final hallway. Even though it was hardly the first time he'd laid eyes on her, when the beautiful Snow Queen of Arendelle stepped out from around the corner, Jack's breath caught. Mother of North, Elsa was beautiful… and not just in her eyes, and her hair, and her hips, and everything, but the very way that she moved, and carried herself, and her expressions…!
As Jack slowed his step, he could see that she was wearing a dark, sleek woolen dress (although he couldn't tell from the distance if it actually was wool, or just ice made to look like wool), with a burgundy shawl draped over her hands like she was simply carrying it for comfort, rather than warmth. As she glanced down the hallway towards him, their eyes met, and she jumped.
A fraction of a second later, the Ice Powers Girl relaxed, her entire body seeming to soften at seeing him. A hint of a smile on the edge of her lips, she then tried to school her expression, making Jack grin as she turned back to her companion.
I can do this.
Drawing himself up in determination, Jack let his staff fall back against his shoulder, sticking his opposite hand into his pocket and walking towards them. Elsa's reaction was reassuring, to say the least. He could do this. He COULD do this.
As he approached, Jack Frost could make out more and more of their conversation.
"Are you certain that you don't need to see a doctor?" Elsa asked the prince, "That limp seems to be getting worse."
"Oh, I just had a particularly hard fall this morning," Frederik replied, grimacing slightly, "But no matter. I'll heal up soon enough."
He forced a polite laugh, and Jack felt a pang of guilt sting him in the back of his throat. He had been thoroughly enjoying himself, pranking Prince Wonderful—you know, because it was hilarious—but he hadn't been wanting to hurt the guy.
Maybe murder him a little. But not HURT him.
"And besides," Frederik continued, "If we're to continue seeing each other, then it'll do me good to get better at watching my step around here!"
A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face. "Watch your step? What do you mean?"
"Well, the—um," Frederik choked. He leaned in close to her, dropping his voice to an almost-whisper. "The ice? On the carpets? I'm all for decor, Queen Elsa, but I'll admit that icing the floor is a little—hazardous."
Jack slowed his step. His heart leaping into his throat, a sudden sense of dread began to seep through his body.
"Icing the floor?" Elsa exclaimed, "I don't ice the floor!"
Prince Frederik gave her a strange look. Pulling in his breath, he gently brought his hands together, choosing his words with care.
"Perhaps—you aren't—doing it consciously?" he suggested, making Elsa tense up.
The Ice Powers Girl's face turned beet red, and Jack could see her pulling her currently-hidden hands into her stomach, despite the fact that they were still clasped together under the shawl.
"It's really not a big deal, Queen Elsa," the prince reassured her, obliviously stepping towards her as she shied away from him, "And I know it's not just the floor, either. I'm sure this happens all the time."
"But it doesn't!"
"Your ice—"
"—Prince Frederik, I assure you that my powers are completely under control!"
A few flurries of snow began to appear in the air around the Snow Queen, seeming to disprove the statement, and Prince Frederik raised his eyebrows skeptically. Not seeing the snowflakes as her panic mounted, Elsa gave her head a shake.
"They are!" she shook.
To this, the Prince laughed good-naturedly, still oblivious to the panic mounting in Elsa's expression as she backed away from him. "Well, unless there's somebody else around here with ice powers," he chuckled.
Jack froze.
His blood running cold, the Youngest Guardian's grip tightened on his staff, every inch of his body once again fighting the intense urge to leap into the air and fly away as fast as he could as the Snow Queen slowly turned and looked in his direction.
Their eyes locked.