Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[I'm reposting this, word-for-word, ONE chapter at a time, from Fanfiction.net. --NNT, starting 10/5/2022]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, guys! Thanks for clicking, and welcome to this fic! Here are THREE relevant things you need to know:

1. Regarding the GENRE: I have no idea. It's a lot of things. There's a lot of humor in Ice Alliance, and it's definitely a romance, so I'll put that.

2. Regarding FROZEN II: To ask the obvious question, how is a fanfic that was started in 2015 compatible with Frozen II canon? Miraculously, Ice Alliance lined up with the new material so well that all I had to do was tweak a few early plot points to make the whole thing canon-compliant once again. As of 1/10/20, THIS IS THE NOW TWEAKED, FROZEN-II VERSION OF ICE ALLIANCE. For anybody interested, I'll include a couple of Author's Notes at the end of the chapters that got the BIGGEST changes to explain what the original version was. (Oh—and, some of the early chapters have characters referring to Elsa as being the Queen of Arendelle. Don't worry, her position/mortality/etc. all get explained! Just hang on!) (And, NO—don't worry, I haven't killed off Anna!) ;)

3. Regarding the TIMELINE: I shift ROTG back and squeeze the three-year gap between Frozen and Frozen II into one year; otherwise, everything is canon-compliant. Here's the Ice Alliance timeline (set in the very Disney-fied, NOT AT ALL historically accurate mid-1800's):

ACCORDING TO ME: Frozen II takes place about 15 months after Frozen, and then ROTG takes place another 6 months after that. Skip forward to the following December, and our story begins.

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1: THE NICE LIST

BANG!

"AW-JEE-WEEAH!"

"Sorry, Phil!"

A gust of icy wind tore through the Workshop, rattling the silver lids against their platters and sending a shudder through the Guardians as it swept past. North slapped his hands down onto the table, rising from his chair and letting out a hearty laugh as the gangly, white-haired figure shot up past the globe, flipping over the Control Station balcony and tumbling forward through the air in a flurry of snowflakes.

"JACK FROST!" he boomed, his stomach shaking. "COME! Sit down at table and eat!"

Jack laughed as he dropped onto the carpet, kicking his staff onto his shoulder. "I was kind of surprised to get your summons," he admitted, a wave of confusion sweeping over his face, "Um—what's all this?"

"A CELEBRATION!"

"I can see that," he chuckled, eying the banners hanging from the rafters above the table. "But—um—what—are we celebrating? Exactly?"

There was a faint whirring sound, and Jack raised his eyebrows, glancing back to the other end of the table. Toothiana was hovering above her seat.

"You, Jack," she smiled. "We're celebrating you."

Looking down to his feet, Jack smiled sheepishly, giving an embarrassed little shrug and sticking his free hand into his pocket. North beamed, beckoning to one of the yetis standing at attention by the fireplace as the Spirit of Winter walked forward to join them, self-consciously side-stepping the design of his own likeness in the center of the Guardian Symbol on the floor.

After Jack had taken his oath in the previous spring, the Guardians had flown back to the pole to celebrate, only to find when they arrived that the grand tile design in the floor—the Guardian Compass, as North called it—had changed, the grand G in its center transformed to now include an image of Jack. The images of the other four Guardians on the corners were unaltered, but the entire piece was now adorned with crystals, from where they later discovered that the single great crystal beneath the floor had burst, showering the piece with thousands of its glistening shards. With Jack Frost joining the team to reunite and strengthen the other Guardians, the full design was now—at last—truly complete.

There was always meant to be a Fifth Guardian.

Responding to North's order, and the yeti snorted, shuffling forward to the table to meet him. Handing the Guardian of Wonder a scroll, it then stepped back, standing at attention as North unrolled it and held it up in the air.

"For the first time in three hundred years," North announced, pausing to raise a bushy eyebrow in Jack's direction and clear his throat, "Ahem—three hundred YEARS—an individual currently known by the name of Jack Frost has made the Nice List."

Trumpets blared, and Jack's eyes widened as another pair of yetis stepped forward, draping a garland over his shoulders. "Now—wait," Jack laughed, "Seriously?"

"Yah not the only one who's suhpized," a gruff voice scoffed. "I couldn't belave it eitha."

The Youngest Guardian arched an eyebrow, looking back to the table. "Thanks for that vote of confidence, Bunny."

A distinct, golden shimmering glimmered through the air as the Sandman—floating a few inches above his seat—silently laughed at Jack's retort, seeing the Guardian of Hope's expression. Grinning eagerly, Jack then pulled out one of the old wooden chairs from the table and scrambled into it, dropping the shepherd's crook in front of him with a clatter.

"So," Jack said, reaching across the table and taking a chicken leg from one of the silver platters, "Less than a year of the Guardian gig, and I get a celebratory feast? Nice!"

"Not just a feast," North chuckled.

SCREEECH!

He shoved his chair back from the table across the stone tiles, and then smacked his enormous thighs. "COME! Sit on my lap! Tell me what you want for Christmas!"

"Sit on your—wait. No way. No—AUGH!"

CLUNK. The chicken leg dropped back onto his plate, and with one yeti taking each arm, Jack yelped as he was helplessly yanked up into the air, kicking out his legs in shock and knocking over the wooden seat. As the other Guardians burst out laughing, Jack heard it fall to the side with a crash as he passionately protested, yelling and struggling as the two yetis calmly carried him across the room. Reaching the Guardian of Wonder's chair, they held him up for a long moment, then unceremoniously dropping him into North's lap.

Before he could jump off, North lunged forward, seizing the back of his hoodie.

"HEY!" Jack gritted, "PutMeDown!"

"Tell me what you want for Christmas."

He scoffed in disgust. "Couldn't you just ask me?"

"No."

"I HAVE to be sitting on your lap?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Reasons." North leaned forward, gazing deep into Jack's eyes. Jack flinched at the awkward closeness. "Now tell me," North whispered, "What—do you want—for Christmas?"

Jack's breath caught.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then glanced to the side, quickly shutting it again. He quickly shook his head, forcing another laugh. "I—I think I'm good," he stammered. "There's nothing I want. I've got everything I need."

North's eyes narrowed. He then sat back, a pensive expression on his face.

"Jack Frost…" he said quietly. "You know that you can—"

"Seriously! There's nothing I want!"

Jack shoved back North's arm, leaping down off his thigh. He spun around and took a step back, inching towards the table again with his hands in the air. "I've got everything, okay? There are a lot of kids who believe in me, I know my center, I help people have fun, and," he added, leaping to the side and snatching the chicken leg back off of his plate, "I have—uh, this. Which is really good, by the way."

"I will pass on compliments to chef," North said slowly. "But—"

"—In fact, yeah, I think I'm going to go think about my center some more right now," he snapped, his brow setting defensively. "See ya."

He ripped off the garland and let it fall to the ground, reaching across the table and snatching up his staff. Then, turning and pacing quickly across the room, Jack Frost launched himself into the air and burst out through the tall wooden doors.

BANG!

And the other Guardians found themselves sitting in silence once again.

"So… tha went well," Bunnymund offered.

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North found Jack sitting in his favorite window, absent-mindedly creating frost patterns on the glass. It had gotten dark as snow fell softly outside, twirling and spinning in the wind, but Jack hadn't lit any candles or lamps, sitting all alone in the moonlight.

The Spirit of Winter often stayed overnight at the Pole, and this place—an old storage loft up high on the edge of the workshop—had sort of unofficially been claimed as his room. Holding only a few old pieces of furniture between the boxes of scrap wood and extra paint, it had two overstuffed chairs, a small table, and a dresser. The dresser was mostly filled with North's backstock of spare snowglobes, but it also housed the spare drawer holding Jack Frost's few worldly possessions; a tiny Russian nesting doll, a jewel-encrusted toothbrush from the fairies, and a new outfit that had been a gift from the Man in the Moon in the previous spring.

The set of clothes resided in its box in the drawer because—upon initially trying them on, thanks to Toothiana's convincing—Jack had felt so ridiculously overdressed (snooty, as he called it) that he'd switched back into his tattered pants and hoodie almost immediately. However, North had encouraged him to keep the new things, just in case he changed his mind. As for the jeweled toothbrush, all of the Guardians had these, in different designs made by the fairies. The Guardian of Memory, for all of her care and sweetness, was perhaps not the most creative of gift-givers. That being said, North wasn't about to complain for being the only person in the world with a lifetime supply of sugarplum-flavored toothpaste.

But back to Jack.

North walked up behind him, folding his arms across his chest.

"You lied to me, Jack Frost."

Jack's back stiffened.

A few flurries of snow beginning to materialize out of the air around him, he determinately kept staring at the window. "No, I—no, I didn't."

"Yes, you did," North pressed, leaning forward. "I can tell."

"Gosh, is that so?" Jack murmured sarcastically. "I'm fascinated."

He rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance, drawing in his left knee slightly closer to his chest. North could see the edges of Jack's ears turning pink, his muscles tense as he struggled to keep color from rising to his face, snow flurries silently falling around him from out of the air. This, however, was not a surprise. The Spirit of Winter had been struggling a bit lately to control his steadily increasing power, as far more children now believed in his existence than they had in the previous spring.

North drew himself up again, towering above Jack by the window. "I always know when someone is not telling me what they really want for Christmas. I can feel it," he said casually, leaning forward and smacking his stomach. "In my belly."

Jack's eyes widened slightly, and he jolted, the flurries freezing in the air. He then let out a sharp, breathy laugh of disbelief, turning around and meeting North's gaze. "You're kidding."

"Of course not," North chuckled. "Why do you think I make you sit on lap?"

Shoooooonk. North pulled up one of the huge overstuffed chairs to the window, sitting down. Relaxing into its rich cushions, he looked back to Jack, a good-natured glint in his eye. "The belly always can tell."

Jack sighed. The Youngest Guardian turned back to the window, flicking his hand across the glass and forming an elaborate snowflake, then pulling the edges out into increasingly complicated patterns.

"So…" North started again.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. "What do you want, North?"

"What do you want, is the question."

Jack set his jaw, looking more intently at the snowflake. North sat back in his chair.

"Aaaaah… I see," he began knowingly. "You are lonely. Some companionship, perhaps?"

"What? I—"

"—I could arrange it, you know. There are many delightful women on the Nice List. Or," he laughed, "The Naughty List—if you prefer—"

"Naughty Li—wait, what? NO," Jack protested, abruptly sitting up in the windowsill. "That is NOT what I want—I mean, I—I wouldn't mind it if that was in my life, but—"

"Jack, it is perfectly normal," North chuckled, "Especially for a young man taken from mortality in the very prime of his youth, like yourself, without having even ever having the opportunity to—"

"—I am not hearing this—"

"—It is only natural that you would at least be curious, with regards to—"

"—NORTH! Oh my word. STOP!" Jack spun around, his face flushed.

North shook his head, laughing softly and pushing himself up from the chair. He began walking over to a table on the side of the room. "If you insist, Jack Frost. But it's really nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Auuuuurgh," Jack groaned, leaning his head back against the windowsill. "Why are you doing this to me? I know you haven't tortured Bunny about this. And since when are you matchmaker?" he snorted, "I thought that was Cupid's thing!"

"Ah yes, Cupid. That little devil is now the only person in history to beat you on naughty list record," North chuckled. "And for Bunny—well, you know how rabbits are."

Jack paused for a moment, processing the statement. As North picked up a plate of cookies and began to walk back towards the windowsill, Jack then pulled in a long breath, squeezing his eyes shut and kneading his forehead.

"Wow," he choked. "I did NOT need to know that."

North chuckled, sitting back down into the chair. "No matter. Cookie?"

"No thanks."

North shrugged, pulling the plate back towards himself and selecting a small, dark wafer. "You still haven't answered question, though," he said, eying the cookie. "What do you want for Christmas?"

He tossed it into his mouth, savoring its flavor as he intently watched the Youngest Guardian's expression. Jack's piercingly blue, snowflake-marked eyes were now soft with sadness, his mask of feigned annoyance beginning to weaken.

Ah, yes. There really was something.

The flurries of snow started materializing out of the air again, glinting in the moonlight as they floated silently to the floor. After a few more moments of visible struggle, Jack finally sighed, leaning his head back against the windowsill.

"North…" he started softly. "You can't get me what I really want."

North's eyes narrowed in consideration.

"Try me," he whispered.

He selected another cookie, looking at it for a second before popping it into his mouth. Jack pulled in a deep breath.

"Life's been great since Jamie," Jack blurted. "I mean, really. People believe in me now, so it has been. But that doesn't change all those years of isolation. Or—well—hi, I have ice powers and I don't know why," he stammered. A smile tugged at the edge of North's mouth as Jack continued. "I could help people have fun and things, but I couldn't ever really have control over anything."

North's bushy eyebrows lifted slightly. Setting the plate of cookies to the side, he leaned forward in the chair, setting his elbows on his knees and interlacing his fingers.

"So, you want to get beyond the past?" he asked quietly.

"No—well, yeah, but that's not it," Jack sighed. "I mean—the past will be there, but as long as the past is in the past, it's okay. It's only an issue when it's—you know. Affecting the now."

North nodded, saying nothing. Jack bit his lip, and North watched as he hugged his knee slightly closer into his chest, then shaking his head slightly.

"I just—every time I'm just trying to do the right thing, still just trying to get used to this whole Guardian business, and then someone will just walk through me—honestly?" Jack choked. "It kills me."

A silence fell over the room.

Seeing the pain in Jack's face, North pulled in a long breath, calculating his words carefully. He looked down to the floor, opening his mouth to say something, and then closed it again, glancing back up to the gangly young man in the window.

"Almost no one believes in us forever, Jack Frost," he whispered.

"Oh, I know that." Jack leapt down from the windowsill, sticking his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie and starting to pace the room. "I just—what I really want is to have a friend—sorry, a friend my age," he corrected, spinning around as North raised his eyebrows, "Who might understand what this is like."

The statement took North completely by surprise.

"Three hundred and nineteen years old?" he asked.

Jack blushed. "I meant my frozen age. Like—nineteen. Or so."

North became quiet, leaning back into the chair as Jack turned away from him again, walking to the other side of the room and picking up his staff. North's eyes narrowed slightly in concentration, he stroked his beard, glancing upwards in thought. Then, the Guardian of Wonder leaned back in his chair, counting on his thick fingers, as if he was remembering something he hadn't thought of in a long time…

A pensive expression on his face, North's bushy eyebrows lifted slightly at the realization. A hint of a little smile tugging at the edge of his mouth as he resumed thoughtfully stroking his beard.

After a few more moments of silence, Jack let out a bark of bitter laughter.

"My point," he snapped. "See? You can't get me what I want. I want someone who understands, and they don't exist. Are you happy?"

Jack, holding the staff, folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, glaring intently at North across the room. North laughed softly, planting his hands on the arms of the chair and pushing himself up out of it.

"Adults are so easy," he chuckled, slowly shaking his head. "If they won't tell you what they want, you guess money or sex. Either you are right—and you can't give it to them—or, they will be offended and tell you."

Jack's face flushed.

"Okay. You win," he mumbled, staring at the ground. "But now do you at least see why I didn't want to tell you?"

North shrugged, walking towards him. "That what you really want is a friend, about your age, that understands—let's see," he said, pausing and counting on his thick fingers again, "Ice powers, isolation, loneliness, stepping into increasing power, being "different," being Chosen by magical forces for a superteam, having an extraordinarily unique life mission and skill set, and struggling to control anything in surroundings while people don't notice efforts to do right thing—to help you get beyond the past?"

"Right. Doesn't exist."

Jack shook his head, his shoulders slightly hunched in embarrassment as he slunk past North towards the door. Unmoved, North crossed his enormous arms over his chest.

"You so sure about that?"

Jack froze.

North chuckled and began walking over to the chest of drawers on the other side of the room. Reaching for one of the knobs, he pretended not to notice Jack's stunned expression at the statement. "Have you ever heard of Arendelle, Jack Frost?"

"Arendelle? You mean that place in Norway?" Jack asked. "No, no, no. I only go to places that actually NEED snow. I mean, that place has gotten creepy in the last couple decades. I don't understand it—it's always snowing now, or having weird stuff like that freak July blizzard two years ago, or small-scale ice formation, or—"

North raised one of his bushy eyebrows, a hint of a smile cracking out of the side of his mouth. Jack's breath caught.

"Wait—are you saying that," he stammered, stumbling back a step, "In Arendelle—there's someone like me?"

"Well—in some ways, a little more powerful than you, but yes. Why you think they get such crazy weather patterns there?" North chuckled, pulling out a sparkling transportation globe. He turned back slowly to Jack, smirking. "Would you like to meet them?"

"Would I like t—of course!"

Jack's stumbled back another step, his face a whirlwind of emotions. North smiled, seeing the new glint of hope in the Youngest Guardian's expression as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair, gripping the staff so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"Arendelle," North whispered into the globe. He then stooped down onto the floor, rolling it across the wood as it grew and started spinning itself into a portal.

He turned back to Jack. "Oh—I should tell you," he chuckled, "This person—you should be respectful."

A wave of confusion swept across Jack's face. "What do you mean?" he asked, "Is he some sort of warlock? Or royalty, or something?"

North paused. He then threw back his head, gripping his shaking belly as his booming laughter filled the room.

"What? What is it?" Jack demanded anxiously, "What's so funny?"

North stopped laughing, shaking his head and looking back to Jack. "Well—you are half right."

"He's a warlock?"

"No—about the royalty," he said. North then leaned close into Jack's ear. "But you should know that she—is currently reinstated as the reigning Queen of Arendelle."

Jack's eyes widened. "Wait, WHAT?"

Before he could say anything more, The Spirit of Winter was snatched up into the air by the back of his hoodie and a belt loop on his pants.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, JACK FROST!" North boomed, and he pulled back and flung Jack headfirst into the portal.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE: And now that we've gotten through the first couple chapters, I can tell you a bit more about this fic, its rating, etc. First off, I'm only allowed to select two categories for Ice Alliance's genre, but you should know that this has a bit of… well, most everything. If I had my way, I would put Friendship/Romance/Humor/Hurt/Comfort/Drama. However, NOT having my way… yeah. Secondly, regarding the rating, there is some very sexual stuff (and also some very dark stuff) in Ice Alliance, but I promise that there is never any profanity, taking of the Lord's name in vain, pre-marital sex, or ANYTHING graphic (I never "show" anything, and I'll give you Content Warnings on the potentially questionable stuff). I make an effort to keep this PG-13. My PERSONAL belief is that the dark stuff is fine, as long as it's being used to demonstrate contrast between good and bad characters. This is my promise to you, as the author!

ALSO: Sometimes, chapters will have TWO Author's Notes, with different dates by each one. This is because I've added some stuff since the chapters were originally posted. Despite the fact that I had started writing in August of 2015 (I know, I know; LATE to the party!), in February of 2016, I felt that I needed to take a Drafting Hiatus, which ended up lasting 16 months, because I suck. In a nutshell: Most of the Author's Notes are original, but if they aren't, I'll post the dates. I'm guessing that nobody's going to care but me, but HEY, I figured I'd throw it out there.

Did I cover everything? Yes? YES. I'll shut up now, and get back to the story. Thank you SO MUCH for getting to the third chapter, and I hope you have a FANTABULOUS day!

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3: SPEAK WORDS

The Youngest Guardian froze, gripping his staff with both hands, his mouth hanging agape as he stared into the two terrified, enormous blue eyes that were suddenly were gazing directly into his own.

Slowly taking his hand off of the shepherd's crook, Jack reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, glancing downwards. Anxiously rubbing the back of his neck, he then shifted on his feet, looking back into her eyes.

"Uh…" Jack laughed nervously. "Hi."

CRACK!

The blast of ice shot grazed his cheek, making Jack jump to the side with a yelp. Her eyes wild with fear, the girl's trembling hand was still hanging aloft in the air as she frantically scrambled to sit up.

His eyes bulging, Jack threw up his hands in surrender. "WHOA! I'm sorry!" he stammered, "I didn't think tha—"

CRACK!

"AUGH!"

Her second offensive ice blast had barely missed him again, sending Jack lurching in the other direction and crashing into her nightstand.

"GUARDS!" the girl gasped, eerie blue magic glowing around her hands, "GUAAAAAARDS!"

BANG!

A door crashed open behind him. As Jack desperately struggled to regain his footing, pushing himself up off the nightstand and spinning around, the Guardian leapt into the air just in time to see two heavily-armored men come rushing into the room.

"Your Highness!"

"Take this young man to the dungeon at once!" the girl ordered.

Their jaws set with fury, the guards whirled around to where she was looking, shouldering their rifles. Eyes narrowed with determination, their years of training were about to be tested. And here it was; the chance to put that training to use, to prove themselves, to protect their queen, to—

Look in one direction. And then another.

And back again.

The two men looked around the room, confused expressions sweeping their faces as they tried in vain to locate the apparently invisible intruder. After a few moments, one of them shuffled uncomfortably in his uniform, lowering his gun and glancing to the other. The second gave a tiny shrug, swallowing hard.

They turned to the young woman in the bed again helplessly.

"Um…" One of the guards cleared his throat, looking at the floor. He then nervously looked back to her. "What… man… your majesty?"

The young woman's mouth fell open in shock.

"What do you mean, what man?" she sputtered, "The one that's standing right there, in—!"

Her voice trailed off, and her eyes widened as she looked up.

"In—the air?" she squeaked.

Now hovering above the end of her bed, Jack Frost was gripping his staff so hard his knuckles were white, his gaze locked onto hers in disbelief.

She was staring at him.

The Ice Powers Girl could—see him.

Say something to her.

Jack's heart started pounding, his mind racing as he floated in the air, frozen with shock.

WORDS! SPEAK WORDS TO HER, YOU MORON!

"UM!" Jack blurted.

She jolted again, abruptly sucking in her breath.

"I—uh," Jack shakily tried again, glancing to the guards, and then looking back to the young woman in the bed with a nervous laugh, "I—I don't think they can see me."

The awkward silence fell.

After a few moments, Jack awkwardly cleared his throat, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair. He pulled his feet up underneath his body, assuming a cross-legged position in the air.

"You might as well lie and get rid of them," he said quietly. "Then I can explain."

A look of distrust swept over her face as she glanced to her guards, then back to the young man floating before her over the foot of her bed. After a few moments of hesitation—biting her lip—Jack watched as the young queen let out her breath, the eerie blue light around her hands beginning to fade.

Her eye twitched slightly, and she sank back into the bed, flicking her hand towards the guards. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you," she said carefully, never taking her eyes off of Jack. "I must have had a nightmare. Thank you for the fine work, gentlemen. You are dismissed."

The guards sheepishly turned and, shouldering their guns, walked back across the room. The first pulled back the enormous handle on the thick wooden door, and Jack—still floating—watched as they exited. The door slowly swung shut after them.

Boom.

The click of a lock.

And all was quiet.

Jack slowly looked back to the beautiful young woman in the bed. As soon as the guards had left, she had sat bolt upright again, her hands trembling as she stared.

He gulped.

"Uh…" Jack started again. "Hey."

She said nothing, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

After a few more moments of silence, Jack looked down into his lap, drumming his fingers on the staff. Glancing to her again, he let out a nervous laugh, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair for the third time.

"Soooo," he said slowly. "You—can see me."

Shaking her head, the girl's face drained of color as she pointed to Jack—and then to the door—and then back to Jack, who was still effortlessly hovering in the air above the end of her bed.

"How?" she choked.

Her face went pale, and she closed her mouth again, staring up at him in horror. A new wave of excitement rushed through Jack's body, and he leaned forward.

"You—can see me," Jack repeated, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

The young woman jolted, snapping back into focus. "Of course I can see you!"

"YOU can SEE ME."

"OH! I'm sorry!" she snapped, "Is this not usually how it goes for you?"

"I—wha?"

"I said, is this not how it usually goes for you?" she sputtered angrily, "Was I just—not supposed to wake up, as you creepily watched me sleep? Or did you just think you were invisible to women, or something?"

Jack's face flushed.

Eh, heh.

"Okay—uh—first of all," he stammered, blushing furiously as the young woman shifted in her covers, "I usually don't watch girls sleep, because that's... weird..."

She said nothing, studying him with a glare.

"And secondly," he started again, "Um—with the invisible to women thing—?"

His voice trailed off. Jack Frost swallowed hard, his face falling as the young queen raised her eyebrows.

"You. Have. No idea," he squeaked miserably.

A look of confusion swept over her face. After a few moments, the girl scoffed, shaking her head.

"How on earth are you doing that?" she demanded.

"Doing what?"

"That!"

He watched in confusion as the young woman frantically gestured from him, and then to the floor, and then back to where he was hovering in the air. Looking down, Jack realized what she meant, uncrossing his legs as a hint of a smile tugged at the edge of his mouth.

"Special set of skills," he breathed.

"Floating in the air skills?!"

"Well—yeah, I—I guess—does it bother you? I could come down," he offered suddenly, "Do you want me to come down?"

"Yes! I mean, NO! WAIT!"

He froze, abruptly pulling his feet up again and looking to her. Now clutching the sheet to her chest, the young queen had spun around, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"Can you—okay," she said carefully, glancing upwards, "I was just—I was just wondering if you'd noticed the footprints on the ceiling."

Wait, what?

An expression of confusion sweeping over his face, Jack looked up. "There are footprints on the ceiling?"

CRACK!

A flash of light exploded through the room, and he jolted, startling backwards into the air and looking back down. In an instant, the young queen had leapt onto her feet, whirling away from him before he could see anything and circling her arms over head. The Youngest Guardian had looked down again just in time to see the last of the ice erupting out of the young woman's arms, falling softly around her and clinging to her body in a sparkling, pale blue sheet.

Drawing herself up, the young queen then turned back around to face him, now fully-dressed in a shimmering, icy evening gown covered in snowflakes.

Jack's eyes widened.

"Wha—you just—!" he gasped. "Is that—that's ice!?"

The young queen raised her eyebrows, daintily picking up the edge of her skirt as he floated down to the floor.

"Special set of skills," she replied coldly.

Before he could respond, she then whirled around and stomped her foot on the ground.

FWOOSH! As soon as her foot made contact, ice shot out across the carpet in enormous, swirling spirals. The Guardian startled, leaping back in shock. "WHOA!"

She didn't respond, turning and pacing across the room, the pale blue fabric of her icy skirt billowing out behind her as she moved. Jack's mind raced, and, now on the floor, he crouched down, gingerly touching the frozen carpet. She had. Frozen. The carpet.

How was this happening?

After a few moments crouching by the floor in the middle of the bedroom, feeling the now ice-covered ground in shock, the Spirit of Winter shook his head, standing up again and running over to the young woman on the other side of the room.

"You can see me," Jack blurted.

She reached forward to the door, and throwing a thick metal bolt across it and turning around.

Clunk.

"Yes, I think we've established that," she hissed.

"And you can hear me."

"I can."

"S-Sorry, I—I have to be thorough—I—!"

Before she could react, the Guardian of Fun suddenly leapt forward, stepping into her space.

"OW!"

The young woman startled back in shock, clapping her hand over her nose as she thrust her opposite one forward.

FWOOM!

Her defensive snowfront hit into his entire body at once, knocking Jack off his feet and sending him reeling backwards to slam into the floor. Pain shot up his side once again, but this time he hardly noticed, coughing and sputtering as he fought his way out of the sudden snowdrift.

"It worked," Jack gasped, staring up at her in disbelief.

"You BIT me!"

"B-b-but that's never WORKED before!" he stammered desperately, scrambling out of the snow, "I mean, it—I—usually, it just goes through, and—you know—and it's really cold, and people sneeze, and—stuff?"

Stepping out of the drift completely, Jack tucked his staff under his arm, then bending slightly at the waist and using both hands to brush off his pants. Still standing by the door with her hand clapped over her nose, the young woman stared at him in stunned silence.

"And, it's—uh," Jack tried again weakly, "It's—funny?"

His voice trailed off again. The girl was slowly lowering her hand away from her face.

"And that wasn't a bite," he mumbled. "It was a nip."

"What's WRONG with you?!"

"I just needed to check if—"

"I HAVE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF—!"

Jack winced as she abruptly cut herself off, snapping her mouth shut just before the last part of the phrase fell off the tip of her tongue. Clenching her fists and then relaxing them, stretching out her fingers, she pulled in a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

Jack felt a wave of horror sweep over him again, and he stuck his free hand in his pocket, awkwardly kicking at the carpet as he did so. Pulling in a deep breath, he then hesitantly looked back up into her face.

"I—I'm sorry," Jack apologized, "If I offended—"

"—No! You're fine!"

Her eyes flew open again. After a fraction of a second, she forced a smile, her cheeks flushing as a few flurries of snow began to materialize out of the air around her.

"Everything is—fine," the young woman said carefully.

Jack's heart skipped a beat.

"I—I really wasn't thinking it'd work," he stammered gratefully, "But I probably shouldn't have done that—just now—"

"It's quite alright."

She whirled around and began to quickly pace across the room towards the corner, giving him a wide berth, the skirt of her icy gown trailing behind her on the carpet. He jumped, quickly following.

"It's all kind of a shock," he continued, "I mean, usually people don't notice, but—like, how can you not notice someone biting your nose, right? And it's not every day that you meet somebody else that has—"

"—AH-AH-AH!" she jolted, spinning back to him.

He froze.

Flicking her fingers towards him, the young woman—her eyes wide with terror—frantically gestured for him to move away. Feeling heat rushing to his face, Jack bit his lip, looking down towards his feet.

"Oh. Um—I—okay."

Jack took a step backwards.

"Uh—better?" he asked hesitantly.

She bit her lip, looking worried. Flicking her hands again, she gestured for him to keep going. Jack took another step back away from her.

"Ah—" she choked.

And another step.

"Aaaaaaah—"

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step.

THUNK.

Jack startled as he bumped into the chair, whirling back around and straightening himself up. Now standing on the complete opposite side of the room, he sighed.

"How about now?"

Her hands trembling as she held them out in front of her in the air, the young woman pulled in a deep breath. "Yep. Uh-huh. Just—just stay over there—RIGHT there," she said carefully.

"I—"

"—DonMove!"

She shot him another quick, forced little smile, and Jack's heart leapt again. She could see him.

SHE. Could—SEE him.

Relaxing slightly, he leaned into his staff, grinning dumbly back as she turned away, still leaving one hand positioned threateningly aloft in his direction and planting her feet on the ice-covered carpet. Oh, man, this was great.

Jack watched, transfixed, as the young woman put her free hand on her hip and looked around the room, finally selecting a corner by an armoire. Gracefully reaching out her arm as the left the first hand aimed at him (clearly keeping him in her peripheral vision), she then carefully paced the perimeter of a large rectangle on the ground, a delicate streamer of frost flying out of her fingertips and falling softly onto the ice, marking the shape.

Reaching the wall, the young woman pulled her hand back, glancing warily in his direction again before looking back and eying her work. She then spun around to face him, dropping both of her arms and clasping her hands together in front of her skirt.

"Would you please come and stand over here for a moment?" she asked sweetly.

"I—uh—yeah," Jack breathed, nodding and walking across the room towards her. "Sure thing, Snowflake."

He stepped obediently over onto the rectangle in the ice as she calmly moved around behind him.

SHOVE.

"GAUGH!"

Jack plummeted forward, the staff flying out of his hand and skittering across the frozen carpet. As his shoulder slammed into the ice, a sharp pain shooting through it again, he struggled to right himself, angrily flipping over to face her.

"HEY!" he snapped, "What the BLIZZARDS is your—"

Propping himself up onto his arms, Jack's voice trailed off.

Now actually on the ground before her, the Guardian's breath caught as he stared up at the Snow Queen, obtaining—for the first time—a truly good look.

A long slit splitting open over one of her slender legs, the fabric of the shimmering, icy gown elegantly rolled down to the floor in front of him, its frosty swirls and patterns gleaming in the moonlight. Skimming over the tops of her rounded hips, the curving lines of the ice dress then eased in onto a tiny waist, the bodice widening out again further up, snow crystals glistening at him through the soft waves of hair that were hanging down over the young woman's chest.

The Spirit of Winter just about swallowed his tongue.

After a few more moments of stunned silence, he gave his head a little shake, snapping back into focus and starting to push himself up again. The Youngest Guardian then looked back into the young woman's eyes, a flirtatious hint of smile twitching out of the side of his mouth.

"Oh—um—hey," Jack stammered hopefully, giving her a weak nod and raising his eyebrows, "Uh—ma'am—wait, HEY!"

FWOOM!

He jolted as she threw her arms into the air, ice erupting out of the ground in front of him and slamming into the ceiling with a sharp creak. Scrambling to his feet and straightening up, Jack Frost suddenly found himself looking out, dumbfounded, through the crystalline bars of a jail cell built of ice.

The young woman lowered her arms, taking a step back from the jail cell as she brushed her hands against each other. Nodding curtly as she eyed her handiwork, she folded her arms over her chest.

"Now, that's more like it," the young woman said coldly. "You're not exactly my first assassination attempt, young man. Although you were the first one that was stupid enough to give yourself away, when you had the chance to kill me."

Jack was speechless as she whirled away from him, walking quickly towards a chair on the other side of the room, the ice dress trailing across the carpet behind her and sparkling in the moonlight. He shook his head vigorously, squeezing his eyes shut, and then opening them again. Opening his mouth to speak, he stepped up to the bars.

"You—you tricked me!" Jack sputtered.

"You broke into the queen's sleeping quarters, in the middle of night, without any guards being able to see you!" she snapped, spinning around to face him. "Translation: This kingdom is no longer safe. Do you really think we're going to just sit down and have a nice conversation over tea?"

Jack bit his lip.

"Uh…" he ventured, "How about hot chocolate?"

"No," she snapped. "And until I find out who you are and what you're up to, you are going to stay in that cell." She smiled coldly again. "Do you understand?"

Chapter Text

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo-throughout this entire scene. This... will be a regular thing. (I know, I know; just like in the first few chapters. But now that we've gotten started, I'm going to start actually posting warnings.) ;)

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4: THE UPPER HAND

The Snow Queen.

This was the Snow Queen of Arendelle. The powerful young monarch, the woman behind the reforms, was now standing regally before him on the other side of the bars in the form of a stunningly beautiful maiden, her cerulean blue eyes expectant, the snowy folds of her icy, elegant dress falling over her—um.

Well, those—eh, heh—her—those hips, and—

Stuff.

"I said, do you understand?" the young woman gritted.

He jolted back into focus. Jail cell. Captured. Interrogation.

Right.

"Fine," he said coldly.

She nodded curtly, whirling away from him and quickly pacing across the room towards the art gallery. As she disappeared behind the doorframe, Jack moved his foot to the side, carefully pulling his staff towards himself across the ice-covered carpet. Easing his toes underneath it, he then kicked it into the air, catching it with his hand. How had he been dumb enough to get himself into this one? Despite the fact that this girl could see him (yeah, like he was walking away from THAT without any further investigation), Jack did not like being locked up, tied down, or forcibly held in any way. And he did not intend to cooperate.

Time to have some fun with this.

Suddenly, the young woman reappeared and was walking towards him again, holding an ink well with a quill and a long piece of parchment. Jack watched as she put the items down on her nightstand, turning and pacing across the room towards a chair.

"Now, young man," she said coldly, reaching for it and beginning to pull it back towards the jail cell, "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. The choice is yours. But you should know that I recommend the former, rather than the latter."

Jack scoffed. "And what if I don't feel like telling you anything?" he retorted.

She ignored the comment, pushing the chair up to the cell and calmly stepping back, swirling her hand through the air.

Whoosh.

Jack's eyes bulged as a delicate, spindly end table made of ice spiraled into existence beneath her fingers. He quickly gulped down his shock, trying to maintain his feigned annoyance as he watched the young woman gracefully sweep past the chair and ice table towards her nightstand again, the snowflakes on her skirt glittering in the moonlight.

Snowflakes.

Oooooooh, geez…

And she was back in front of him again, daintily placing the ink well with the quill on the icy end table. Her eyebrows lifting slightly, she sat down, drawing her hand beneath the parchment as a frosty tablet on which to write materialized in her lap.

"You have been warned," the young woman said coldly, shifting in the seat and reaching to the quill. She placed it on the parchment, looking back up into his eyes. "First things first, young man. What's your name?"

"Jack Frost."

She jolted, sucking in her breath with shock. 

After a few moments, looking back to him, her face fell, and she exhaled in frustration. "A code name. Of course," the young queen sighed. "How perfect. For my assassination. I meant your real name."

"But that is my real name!"

"Of course it is," she muttered, visibly restraining from rolling her eyes. "But, more importantly, I need to know who wants me dead this time." She sat back in the chair. "Who do you work for?"

"I'm not an assassin."

"Who do you work for?" she gritted.

He raised his eyebrows again, taking a few steps away from her into the cell. Swinging the staff behind his back and catching it with his other hand, he then paused, glancing around the room in the moonlight.

Moonlight.

Restraining from a smirk, the Guardian of Fun looked back to the young queen through the bars. He then shrugged, glancing to the side.

"I work for him. In the window," he said casually.

She jolted, leaping out of the chair and whirling around, defensively throwing her arms forward. The air around her hands started glowing as ice particles began to materialize from her fingertips, and after a few seconds of frantically looking around the room, she shakily took a step back.

"Where is he? Can he do the invisible thing, too?" she shook. She frantically looked back to Jack, and then to the window, not lowering her hands. "Show yourself!" she demanded.

Silence.

Jack took a step forward, raising his eyebrows.

"He isn't going to answer," he shrugged.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well…" Jack enunciated, "As a general rule… the Man in the Moon doesn't usually like to talk to people."

She froze, a wave of confusion sweeping over her face. Then, letting out her breath, she rolled her eyes, lowering her arms and glaring at the young man in the cell.

"The Man… in the Moon," she repeated icily.

Jack Frost smirked.

Her eyes narrowed. Raising a single eyebrow, she slowly turned back to face him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And what do you do, then?" she hissed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you're not an assassin? Working for the Man in the Moon must be exhausting."

"Actually, it's a blast."

"Oh, do tell."

He paused for a moment, watching the hook of his staff twirl in the air as he absent-mindedly spun it on the ground. Catching it, he then shrugged again, looking back to her.

"I have fun—professionally," Jack said carefully.

She bent down, picking up the parchment from where she'd dropped it leaping out of her chair. "So, you're… a professional fun-haver."

"Well, if you don't believe me, you can go ask my boss."

"Who conveniently doesn't talk to people."

"Doesn't like talking to people," Jack corrected, shooting her a flirtatious grin as she turned back to face him, having replaced the parchment on the table. "But, hey. Maybe if you asked reeeeeeally nicely, he'd tell you—"

"—Why he wants me dead?"

"I'm not an assassin!"

Glaring at him through the bars, the young queen paused. Then, pulling herself up, she paced up to them, the icy gown flowing across the frozen carpet behind her, until she was staring directly into his eyes.

"Listen carefully, young man," she shook, her face inches from his own as she glared through the bars of the jail cell, "I don't care how clever you think you are. I know that you're going to talk, and it's not because I'm going to force you. It's because of what I can offer you, compared to what you have now, and you would be a fool to refuse it."

He scoffed. "Oh, yeah?" Jack taunted. "Well, if you're going to insist that I'm lying, how do you know that I'm not here from some big, rich kingdom? How do you know that I'm not being paid more than you can offer me, if you're so confident?"

"Because you've already given that information away in the ridiculousness of your answers and behavior."

Jack Frost fell silent. The young queen turned back to the seat, gracefully sweeping into it and crossing her legs as she launched into her analysis.

"Everything you've said and done so far works to convince me that you're part of a political extremist group, not of a specific kingdom. Which is strangely reassuring.

"You were the first man that was able to get in here without tipping off the guards—and I still don't know how you managed to not have them see you. However, the fact that you didn't kill me when you had the chance, and that you were so easy to capture, both indicate that you are a clever assassin, but an amateur.

"By extension, if you're an amateur, then it's clear that you were either hired by an organization that doesn't have enough money for an experienced assassin, or that you're a loner with a personal vendetta against me, and delusions of grandeur.

"Conclusion: You're an unattached extremist, not a declaration of war. Conclusion: You don't have very much money, nor strong alliances, compared to what I can offer you in exchange for information. If you choose to cooperate.

"Conclusion," she finished, drawing herself up, "You, if you're smart, will be telling me exactly what I want to know, starting with your affiliations. So: are you a terrorist or a madman?"

She smiled sweetly.

"Uh..." Jack breathed, letting out a nervous bark of laughter and ruffling his fingers through his hair, "Dare I ask which one of those options you're more attracted to?"

She nodded. "You're a madman. Lovely."

Jack watched as the young queen quickly started scratching the quill across the parchment, then turning and dipping it a little too frantically into the ink well beside her. His eyebrows lifted slightly as she shakily pulled it back, placing its tip on the parchment again, her mask of forced calm beginning to weaken.

"A wee bit high strung—aren't we?" Jack said carefully.

She raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean, high strung?"

"Your hands are trembling."

She abruptly sucked in her breath, her eyes wide as she froze in her place. After a few moments, she pressed her lips together, drawing herself up and glaring at him again in forced calm.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she stated emotionlessly. "Now, if we can just—"

"—No idea what I'm talking about? Seriously? Look at yourself!" Jack scoffed, taking a step back and gesturing to her as she blushed, "Everything about you is stressed out. You come back to your secret study, after you're done working, so that you can sit down and keep working! You haven't taken a break in ages! Lovely lady like you, all worried and tense, and—stuff—"

"—Having just survived another assassination attempt—"

"—I'm not an assassin!" Jack laughed, "I just—oh, come on! When's the last time you've had any fun?"

"That is none of your concern."

"Actually, it is—"

"—ACTUALLY, it's NOT!" she burst out suddenly, leaping onto her feet.

Jack abruptly stopped talking, wincing again as she stepped up to the cage, her teeth clenched in determination.

"Do you think this is funny?" she demanded.

He was speechless. After a few moments, the young queen drew herself up again.

"You broke into the queen's sleeping quarters," she quavered determinately, pointing first at Jack and then to herself, "And I have captured you. I am directing this interrogation, young man, and I will be asking the questions. You will be answering them."

"Well," Jack scoffed, glancing to the bars, "It looks like we've got a problem, then. Maybe if you let me out of this stupid cage thingy, I'd be more willing to talk."

"Let you out?"

His eyes narrowed. "I don't like being captured."

"I don't like being assassinated."

"Aaaaurgh," Jack groaned. "Look. Do you need proof that I wasn't trying to kill you?"

She raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest. "Go ahead."

"Are you alive?"

"Well… yes," the young woman admitted.

Jack glared.

"Yeah. So I wasn't trying to kill you," he said coldly. "There's your proof. Can we please take down the stupid bars now?"

"Your confidence is astounding," she snapped, huffing a laugh, "I don't even know if you could kill me."

"What?" Jack snorted, "You're immortal, or something?"

The girl stiffened.

A moment later, the young queen gave herself a little shake, balling her hands into fists. "This isn't about me," she gritted, avoiding the question, "If you could break into my room, then that means that this entire castle is unsafe. But even so," she started again, "That's your idea of an objective argument? Why on earth would I let you out on that?"

"First off, because I never promised that the proof would be objective, and secondly, because I have complete faith in that you and I can have a normal conversation, and—"

"—NORMAL?!" she sputtered, jolting as Jack took a few steps back, calmly readjusting his grip on the shepherd's crook, "How dare you break into my sleeping quarters, and try to tell me what's normal! Out of the two of us, I am the one holding the upper hand, and frankly, I believe tha-HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT?!"

Now suddenly hovering ten feet up in the air, sitting on his staff, Jack Frost shrugged.

"Special set of skills," he grinned. "Remember?"

"But—b-but you just—"

"—Ooooooh, look at that face!"

She stumbled back a step, staring up at him in shock. Jack laughed, snatching the staff out from underneath his body and flipping forward in the air, tumbling to the ground.

"Driving you crazy, isn't it?" he chuckled, touching down and walking towards her again. "Not knowing. You want the answers so badly! Believe me, I know what that's like—"

"—You're not getting out that easily," she snapped. "I'm not stupid."

"But you're desperate to know how I—"

"—For at LEAST the next few months, I have a personal responsibility to Arendelle that involves a great deal of not dying!" she fired back. "And if you think that my curiosity is going to overrule my sense of self-preservation, you're wrong."

"Sense of self-preser…?"

His voice trailing off, Jack watched as the young queen turned away from him again, walking back towards the chair. As she bent down to pick up the parchment, he suddenly found himself realizing that her outstretched hand was trembling again, her shoulders slightly hunched over as she tried to draw herself up.

Why was—but she had captured him—why on earth would she say that, if—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, gosh, that wasn't what he wanted…

"Wait—uh," Jack quavered, taking a tiny step forward, "Are you—ma'am, are you—scared of me?"

She paused.

Biting his lip, the muscles in his throat tensing with shock at the realization fell, Jack Frost sheepishly looked down at his feet.

"Ma'am?"

Sucking in her breath, the young woman suddenly whirled around to face him, gripping the parchment and tablet a little too tightly to her chest. Trying to hide it, she drew herself up, glaring at him as threateningly as she could.

"What?" she snarled.

Jack stared at her eyes, suddenly aware of the terror in them, despite the rest of her cool, forced composure. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. After a few moments, he closed it again, biting his lip.

Please don't be scared of me.

"I—uh—you know," he stammered carefully, "I—I might be willing to talk. With the bars. I mean, if the bars make you feel better."

She said nothing, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face with distrust. Jack drew himself up, pulling in his breath.

"I'm willing to make you a deal," Jack tried again.

He smiled hopefully.

The young queen stared at him, her mouth falling slightly open as she tried to decide how to respond. Raising her eyebrows, she scoffed, turning back and sitting in the chair.

"I don't make deals with assassins," she said coldly, crossing her legs. "I set the conditions, young man. Not you."

"Because you're holding the upper hand?"

"Correct."

He pondered this, glancing upwards in consideration. Letting out his breath, Jack then shook his head.

"I hate to break it to you, ma'am," he laughed softly. "But it looks like we've got another problem."

"Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "You're not actually holding the upper hand."

"And how do you figure that, young man?"

Raising his eyebrows, Jack glanced to the bars, and then looked to the Snow Queen again. He readjusted his hold on the shepherd's crook, striding up to the front of the jail cell and dropping his voice to a whisper.

"You want information. And I want out of this cell thingy," he said quietly, leaning against the bars. "Basically: You've got something that I want. I've got something that you want. With all due respect, your majesticness, I believe that THAT puts us on exactly. Equal. Footing."

Glaring at her through the bars of the jail cell, Jack Frost crossed his arms over her chest, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

Slowly placing the tablet and parchment on the icy end table beside her, the young queen shakily stood up. Crossing her own arms over her chest and mirroring his body language, she took a few steps forward, finally stopping right in front of him on the other side of the bars.

"What kind of a—deal—are we talking about, here?" she asked suspiciously.

"I was thinking of a one-for-one trade."

The girl shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Then, after a moment of worriedly biting her lip, she pulled in a quick breath, drawing herself up.

"Alright, young man," she said carefully. "Name your price."

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"One answer for one answer."

Silence.

Jack could tell from the look on the young queen's face that she did want information—ideally, for him to cooperate easily, and to surrender it to her without a fight. And she wanted it badly.

After a few moments of visible struggle, he watched as her tense expression weakened, her determined, forced glare fading into a look of defeat.

"Fine," she agreed. "One answer for one answer."

Chapter Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE, added 12/16/19: Okay, this chapter is disproportionately long compared to the others in this section, because it's where I stuck a bunch of the Frozen 2 Update stuff. Annnnnd, I didn't feel like shifting every single chapter after this, so... sorry! :-s

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5: ONE-FOR-ONE

The Snow Queen whirled away from him, walking back to the chair, and a rush of excitement swept through Jack's body. Restraining from a grin, he took a few steps back, eying the snowflakes on her dress as she picked up the parchment and tablet, reaching for the quill. A one-for-one trade. In other words, a chance to talk to her.

Now, that he could work with.

"First things first," the girl sighed, dipping the quill in the ink well and placing its tip on the parchment. "How on earth did you get in here?"

"Well," Jack admitted, "Let's just say that—busting into places hasn't ever really been hard for me."

"What do you mean, bust in? Are you—"

"—My turn!"

She paused. After a few seconds, he raised his eyebrows.

"Oh—I'm so sorry," he corrected, "I mean: My turn. As in, it's my turn. M'lady."

Rolling his hand through the air, he swept into a deep, dramatic bow, his hair falling forward into his face.

She blushed. Quickly hiding it, the Ice Powers Girl drew herself up, clasping her hands together in her lap. Righting himself, Jack leaned up against the bars again.

"My question is the same as before, because you didn't answer it," Jack started. "I want to know how long it's been since you've had any fun."

A look of confusion swept over her face. After a few moments, she scoffed, drawing herself up.

"For your information," she said coldly, "I am currently serving as the Acting Queen of Arendelle, in addition to my—other, usual duties. I don't have time for fun."

"WHAT?!" he jolted, "YOU CAN'T BE SERIOU—"

"—You asked a question. I gave you an answer," she snapped, "Now, do you intend to hold up your end of the deal, or not?"

Abruptly snapping his mouth shut, Jack pressed his lips together in frustration. Ice Powers Girl had a point.

But he didn't have to like it.

She sat back in the chair, crossing her right leg over her left and studying him through the bars. As she looked up and down his gangly frame, looking for suspicious characteristics, Jack heard the young queen muttering softly under her breath.

"The kind of devices or magic required for invisibility…" she mused, "And my guards couldn't… you got in, but…!"

Her eyes narrowing in suspicion, the girl suddenly looked back up into his face, pushing herself out of the chair and walking up to the cell.

"That shirt—thing—you're wearing," she quavered intensely. "Take it off. Now."

Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter, grinning in shock.

"Well, that escalated quickly," he chuckled, "Are you always this eag—"

"—I'm. Checking you. For weapons," she enunciated. "OFF."

Raising his eyebrows, Jack scoffed, taking a few steps back. After a few moments—looking back into the young queen's icy glare—his stomach twisted.

Aw, Manny.

She was scared again.

Biting his lip, the Spirit of Winter turned and walked to the back of the cell, leaning his staff up against the wall. Looking back to the young woman on the other side of the bars, he sheepishly reached over his head for his hoodie.

Shirt… off. Taking my shirt off. Yes, ma'am, he thought. Yesssss, MA'AM...

Crumpling it into a ball, the web of ice fading as he held his arms out from his body, the now-shirtless Jack Frost slowly let out his breath, turning all the way around in the cell while she studied him.

"There," he retorted, "No weapons. Are you happy?"

"Not so fast, young man. Let me see that."

"But I—!"

She was expectantly holding her hand out, the sharp gaze of her intelligent eyes suddenly locked with his own.

Jack gulped.

Walking back to the front of the cell and reluctantly holding it out through the bars, he watched as the Ice Powers Girl snatched it out of his hand, stepping away from him. After a few moments of turning it over in her hands, her eyes narrowed with distrust as she inspected the navy cloth, she paced back up to the cell, shoving it back to him.

"Now," Jack said coldly, pulling it back on over his head, "Is that enough for you, or do I have to take off my pants, too?"

"Please don't."

"Fine," he shrugged. "I just want to know if we're still doing a one-for-one trade."

"Why?"

"Because you made me take my shirt off."

"What are you talking about?"

Jack raised his eyebrows.

She jolted.

Setting her jaw, the young queen slapped her hands down onto the armrests of the chair, getting onto her feet. Walking up to the jail cell again and gesturing to the crystalline ice, she forced a cold smile.

"Would you please step forward and place your hands, firmly, on these two bars?" she asked sweetly.

"Huh? Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure."

Ffft!

Jack's breath caught. Looking down at his wrists, he realized that he was suddenly wearing a solid—and very short—pair of crystalline handcuffs, shackling him to the bars of the cell.

His heart started pounding. He yanked at the handcuffs—and then yanked again. With a breathy laugh of disbelief, he squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.

"Why do I just keep doing EVERYTHING you say!?" Jack groaned.

SLAP!

"OW!"

Withdrawing her hand from between the bars, the young queen calmly turned and walked back to her chair, whirling around and taking a seat in one graceful swoop. "Because you're an amateur?"

"For the laaaaaaast tiiiiiiime," Jack groaned, his cheek stinging, "I am not an assassin!"

"Oh, no; just a strange young man that breaks into women's bedrooms and stands over them while they sleep."

Jack froze.

"I'm not an assassin," he choked.

"Then what are you?"

"I'M—!"

He could feel the blood rushing to his face. Looking down and shifting uncomfortably in the handcuffs, Jack Frost pulled in a shaky, hesitant breath.

"Creepy?" he squeaked.

She raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, but—in my defense," he added quickly, "I didn't realize this was a bedroom. I was in your study, and—"

"You've been through my study?!"

"I—!" Jack nervously blew a tuft of hair out of his eyes as the Ice Powers Girl's face went pale. "It was interesting," he tried again. "But as I said. I didn't know this was a bedroom, until I saw you."

"And after you realized that it was a bedroom, you stayed because why?"

Jack blushed harder.

Because pretty.

"Uh—I was—about to leave," he choked.

They stared at each other through the bars.

Jack Frost looked down to the icy handcuffs, the sting of humiliation in the back of his throat. After a few more moments of painful silence—squeezing his eyes shut—he hesitantly looked back up into her eyes.

"Is it my turn again yet?" Jack squeaked.

She scoffed. "After the shirt comment?"

"Okay, I'm seriously regretting saying that—"

"—Oh, good!"

"—I was joking!" Jack stammered helplessly, "Oh, come on! I swear! I don't want you to actually take off your—I mean—okay, if you really wanted to, I—"

"—This is still a joke to you."

Biting his lip, he fell silent. The young queen leaned forward in the chair, her hands clasped together tightly in her lap.

"This isn't a laughing matter, you know," she said coldly. "You broke into the queen's sleeping quarters. And when my kingdom's safety is hanging in the balance, I promise you, you do not want to find out what I would be willing to do, to counter that threat."

Jack blushed, quietly staring at his handcuffed wrists.

"Sorry," he choked.

"Alright. Thank you," she sighed, sitting back in the chair and reaching for the tablet and parchment on the table. "Then we're going to try this again."

The girl suspiciously eyed the Youngest Guardian as he stood before her, chained to the bars of the icy jail cell, looking up and down his gangly frame as she considered her next question. Picking up the quill, dipping it in the ink well and replacing it on the parchment, she then leaned forward, gazing intently into his eyes.

"Okay, young man," she said quietly. "Who sent you?"

"Santa Claus."

"REALLY?!" she gritted, slamming down the quill.

"But I'm serious!" Jack protested as she rolled her eyes, "He tossed me into a magic portal from the North Pole, and I crash-landed in the fjord!"

She raised her eyebrows.

"Okay," Jack admitted. "That statement is probably not going to help you to believe me."

"Good insight."

"How about a follow-up question?"

A look of confusion swept over her face. Jack pulled in his breath again.

"If we're not back to me getting to ask normal questions yet, can I at least have a follow-up question?" he pleaded. "I mean, come on. Please. That's not even really a full question."

The young woman's eyes narrowed. Reaching up and throwing a stray lock of hair over her shoulder, she readjusted herself in the chair, the entire icy dress sparkling as she moved.

"Fine," she sighed.

"What do you MEAN, you don't have time for fun?"

"I meant just what I said. I don't have time for fun. I—alright, unless it's with my sister," the young woman added before Jack could protest again, "But she's been very sick recently. And the point is that she's supposed to be resting right now."

"Sick with what?"

"My turn."

A sly, playful little half-smile twitched out of the side of her mouth as she looked back up at him.

Jack froze.

His heart leapt, and he grinned sheepishly, sinking down a little into the handcuffs. Wow. With the smile—okay, this one was really kind of a smirk, but he'd take what he could get—the Ice Powers Girl was even—heh. She was just—!

Wooooooooooooooooow.

The Snow Queen gracefully shifted in the seat again, setting the snowflakes on her gown gleaming in the moonlight, and placed the quill and tablet back on the table. Letting out a confused laugh, she leaned onto one arm of the chair, looking back up at him.

"Why are you so concerned about my having fun?" she ventured.

Jack snapped back into focus. "Wait," he asked, "That's your question?"

She turned, glancing to the table and reaching over to dip the quill in the ink well again. Jack shifted in the handcuffs.

"Okay," he offered. "Before I answer—because this changes what I can tell you—I have a request."

She raised her eyebrows. "And what might that be?"

"For the rest of this conversation, I want you to pretend to believe me," he said quickly. "Please. Just humor me. If, for the rest of this conversation, you can pretend to believe that I'm not a complete lunatic, I promise, I'll answer all of your questions the best I can."

She considered this for a few moments.

"Alright, young man," she said smoothly. "I can play."

"Wait, really?"

"If that's what it takes."

He grinned flirtatiously. "Can I suggest, eh, a different game, then?"

"What?"

"Never mind," he said quickly, deciding against the comment, which would without question earn him another slap. "For your question… I'm concerned about your having fun, because it's kind of my job."

"As a professional fun-haver, right?"

"Right. I mean—well," he corrected, "Not entirely. That's not my entire job description."

"So, what is your job description?"

Jack's heart leapt.

"Well. As long as we're pretending that you'll believe me, I'll tell you," he stated, proudly drawing himself up. "I happen to be a Guardian."

"A… guardian," she repeated.

"Better believe it, ma'am." Jack leaned forward against the bars, a sly little smile twitching out of the side of his mouth. "Trade places with me, and I'll guard you just fine."

Glancing to the handcuffs, and then to her again, he raised his eyebrows, flirtatiously peering up at her through his hair.

She froze.

After a few moments, the young queen sucked in her breath, shakily sitting up in the chair again and clasping her hands together in her lap. This brought a slight grin from Jack.

"Tell you what," he whispered, "I'll leave that offer open, if you change your mind."

She ignored the comment. "A guardian of what?"

"Children."

Her eyes bulged in horror.

"OH, gosh. NOT like—I—NO," Jack stammered frantically, leaping away from the bars to be caught and jerked back by the handcuffs as blood rushed to his face, "NOT like—bad timing—oh, that did not sound good—"

"—Who in Heaven's name would trust you with children?!" she sputtered.

"Uh, the Man in the Moon?"

"Of course."

She sat back into the chair, closing her eyes for a long moment. Opening them, she looked back to Jack.

"I believe it's your turn," she said coldly.

He nodded. "So, what's your little sister sick with?"

The Snow Queen sighed, laying the quill down on the tablet and parchment. "Pregnancy, actually," she admitted, "A child. Maybe more than one; she's gotten huge. She and her husband were married eight months ago."

Nice.

"Let me guess," Jack chuckled. "Romantic honeymoon in the mountains?"

"I try not to think about it too much," she muttered, "I mean—she's my little sister. To think about her, and—him—just—ugh."

She shuddered, wincing at the thought. Jack restrained from a laugh at the regal young queen's sudden discomfort.

"So," he ventured, "You don't like the guy, or…?"

"Oh, no. Kristoff's good for her," she corrected quickly, looking back to him, "It's just that—well. Never mind. At least this one didn't try to cut my head off."

Jack jolted. "Wait, what?!"

"Long story."

Jack watched as she shrugged, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder and picking up the quill again.

"Sweet Manny," he breathed. "No wonder you're so uptight."

"It keeps me alive," she stated emotionlessly.

Jack snapped his mouth shut. Still trapped in the handcuffs, he swallowed against the uncomfortable sensation of being sized up as the young queen's eyes then did a quick, analytical scan down his body, then moving back up to his face. Studying him, she stared for a long, silent moment.

"How old are you?" the young woman asked suddenly.

Jack's brow furrowed. "How—old am I?"

"I want to know what's so special about you, for an organization to hire such a young assassin," she stated, gesturing to him as she crossed her arms, "Especially when the target was me. You're inexperienced, but it was still impressive that you managed to get past the guards. ESPECIALLY when you look—what? Maybe somewhere around seventeen years ol—"

"—NINETEEN!" Jack sputtered, yanking at the handcuffs, "I look NINETEEN!"

Her eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. "Nineteen?"

"Yeah!"

Blushing furiously, Jack set his jaw, glaring daggers at her through the bars. "And, and, emotionally, I'm really more like twenty," he added, "So there's that, too."

"You look nineteen, but you're emotionally twenty?"

"Yeah."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Well, uh—last spring, I was emotionally and physically nineteen, but then—well, stuff started up again, in my brain, and then my birthday is in only a couple months, so, uh," Jack Frost stammered, "So, now I'm more—I'm really more like almost twenty. Mentally. Basically, twenty."

He bent down to the handcuffs again, tapping the side of his forehead with his pointer finger. Slowly straightening up again from the awkward movement, he then looked back to the beautiful young woman before him, who was staring in complete confusion.

"Um…" the Snow Queen said, "That is how birthdays usually work...?"

Jack didn't respond, his cheeks and ears burning. He chewed on his lip.

"So," the girl enunciated again, very slowly, with a tone like she was speaking to a very small, and very stupid child, "You still haven't answered my original question. Are you nineteen, or twenty?"

The 319-year-old Guardian of Fun squeezed his eyes shut.

Why, he thought.

Why is this happening.

"Well," he squeaked, "Uh—technically neither, but—"

"—Neither?!" she burst out, "But how could—"

"—Look, CanYouJustAskMeSomethingElse?" Jack pleaded, desperate to change the subject away from his age, "Anything else. Really. You can even have another question."

"Okay." She placed the tablet and quill down on the icy end table, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at him with skepticism. Jack Frost then watched as the young queen raised a single eyebrow. "My next question is that I want to know why you think your age is such a big deal."

Jack's eyes narrowed.

WOW.

"It's not a big deal," he snapped, "It's just—complicated. That's all."

"How could your age be a complicated—"

"—You know what, I'm taking my turn again now."

She opened her mouth to protest, but then snapped it shut it again. Schooling her expression, the Ice Powers Girl then sat back down into her icy chair and tossed her left leg over her right. She gestured for him to proceed.

"Uh… so!" Jack began, trying to sound casual and shifting on his feet, "You've got a fiancé?"

The young woman's eyes widened. "What?"

"You're engaged? Betrothed?"

"Why would—?" She cut herself off, giving her head a quick shake. "Why would you think I'm engaged?"

Jack shrugged, struggling to keep his voice even as he pressed her further. "Well—I'm not seeing a ring, and it doesn't look like you're sharing this room with anybody, so I'm guessing you're unmarried," he explained, "But I saw the wedding dress."

"Wedding dress?"

She looked completely befuddled. Scoffing, Jack cocked his head towards the art gallery in the next room.

"Oh, come on. Long, pretty white dress? The one that's right there?"

The young queen continued to stare at him in complete confusion.

Allowing himself a quick eye roll, Jack heaved a sigh of frustration. "In your study—art gallery—thing," he stammered, nodding towards it, "There were two sparkly dresses; there was a blue one, and then there was a white one with—"

"—Oh! My Spirit dress!"

Now it was Jack's turn to be confused.

"Spirit dress?" he sputtered, "What in the blizzards is a spirit dress? If it's not a—"

"—Oh, that's not a wedding dress," she laughed softly, tossing a wistful glance in its direction as her eyes lit up. "That's my Spirit Dress. And it's very important to me, but—a bit much, for while I'm staying in the castle. When I'm not in the Forest, I tend to just save it for special occasions."

Still leaning up against the bars, the Youngest Guardian considered this for a moment. Then, Jack Frost raised his eyebrows.

"Like getting married?"

"It's not a wedding dress! I—aurgh."

She dropped her quill and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, pulling in a deep breath. Pulling her hands down from her face, she then picked up her quill again, glaring up at him.

"Just because a woman chooses to wear a long, beautiful white dress, it doesn't automatically mean that it's because of a MAN," she snapped defensively. "And for as far as you are concerned, I'm afraid that I am spoken for."

"So, there is a boyfriend."

"I never said that I—!" The young queen cut herself off, then shaking her head and starting again. "I don't have a boyfriend."

Jack's eyes bulged. "Girlfriend?!"

"What? No! I—!"

The girl groaned in frustration and squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her fingertips to the bridge of her nose again. Meanwhile, Jack's heart had resumed beating. If the gorgeous young queen had said yes to either of those inquiries, then he would have had to respect that, but—but—!

Phew!

"Look," the young woman started again, looking up to him with daggers in her gaze, "When I said that I am 'spoken for,' I didn't mean that it was by a person, or a betrothal, or—or even a choice—but by this funny little thing called reality."

"What do you mean?"

She stared into his eyes through the bars, unmoving in her chair.

"The 'Professional Fun-Haver' wants me to explain the concept of reality," she deadpanned.

"Humor me."

She shifted on her hips, as if trying to decide how to proceed. Then, she let out her breath.

"It's very simple. I believe that marriage is an alliance meant to be forged between equals," the young queen explained. "If I were to marry, it would need to be to a man whose position, intelligence, morality, and power were equal to my own."

Jack's eyebrows lifted. Wordlessly, he watched as she let out her breath, sitting back into her chair and crossing her left leg over her right.

"Which is why I'm going to be single for the rest of my life," she stated. "And have made my peace with it."

Shooting him a tight, bitter smile, the Snow Queen picked up her quill again, setting it onto the parchment. Jack Frost let out a long, low whistle.

"Sweet Manny," he breathed, studying her through the bars. "A bit cynical, don't you think?"

She shrugged. "It's not arrogant if it's true."

"I didn't say it was arrogant. I said it was cynical."

She looked down, gripping the quill so hard that her knuckles turned white. Jack leaned into the handcuffs, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"Just because you don't believe something is real, it doesn't mean that it can't exist," he said softly. "There could be somebody out there for you. You know, who could… take you on. And… stuff."

His voice trailed off, and Jack Frost fell quiet.

Setting down the quill, the young queen squeezed her eyes shut, like she was in pain. Pulling in her breath, she looked up into his gaze again, hers as cold as ice.

"I do not appreciate being mocked," she said coldly.

"I'm not mocking you!"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Okay, I might have been mocking you earlier, but—not this time," Jack insisted, "Not this time. Just—why is what I'm saying so hard to believe?"

"It's my turn again," she countered, looking away. "Why can't my guards see you?"

Oh, boy.

Jack pulled in a long breath.

"I'm—sort of—invisible—to people who don't believe I exist," he said carefully.

A look of confusion swept over her face. "Invisible?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

"But that's—"

"—You're pretending to believe me, remember? And, it's my turn again."

"Fine."

"Why are you so determined to believe that there isn't a single guy on the face of the PLANET who could match you?" Jack demanded.

She scoffed. "Because there's simply no way that—"

"—Hear me out, hear me out! Have you ever thought," Jack interrupted passionately as the Snow Queen began to rise from her chair and walk towards him, "That maybe there IS a guy out there, who could, you know, 'be your equal' and stuff, but that you're just so convinced he doesn't exist that you wouldn't even notice if he showed up? That maybe if you were just a little more willing to give people a chance that GAUGH!"

Jack startled back against the handcuffs, his eyes bulging at the crystalline dagger made of ice that the young queen was suddenly holding up to his neck through the bars. He let out a nervous laugh.

"PleasePutTheDaggerDown?" he choked.

She didn't.

"I have an idea," the Snow Queen hissed, her eyes narrow as she glared at him through the bars, "Maybe let's—not have any more questions about my love life."

He winced, hesitantly looking up at her with one eye squeezed shut.

"But I was just saying that maybe you could have one?" Jack squeaked.

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh… is that was all of this was?"

"Yes!"

"Well," she shrugged, starting to lower the blade, "In that case, maybe I'll just—let you go."

Jack's eyes widened.

"Uh… really?"

"No."

She threateningly twitched the dagger towards him again, and Jack Frost winced, suddenly racking his memory for the newspaper in the study. What was her name, again?

"Your name is Elsa," he remembered suddenly. "Right?"

"That is correct."

That's actually really pretty. "Okay. Sooooo… Elsa," he ventured, watching as she pulled the dagger back through the bars and stepped away from him, "My next question is—"

"—My turn!"

"WHAT?!"

"My name is Elsa. That answers your question," she said coolly. "So, it's my turn again."

"Aaaaaurgh…"

"The hovering-in-the-air thing," the young woman—Elsa—started again, picking up the quill. "How."

Jack's eyes began to wander in the direction of his staff, and he paused. His stomach twisted at the memory of the last time he'd willingly handed over the old shepherd's crook.

Yeah, he thought bitterly. Now that I'm handcuffed and trapped and everything, I think this'd be a great time to tell you all about my trusty weapon. Let me show you how it works.

Jack Frost cleared his throat, looking back to her. "I can fly," he decided, giving a casual shrug. "What about it?"

"People can't fly."

"Magic people can."

She stopped writing, slowly looking up to him. "You're… magic?"

"In more ways than one, Snowflake."

The Ice Powers Girl's eyes widened. Then—seeing a flicker a doubt flash across her features—Jack shifted on his feet, leaning forward against the bars as casually as he could while still in the handcuffs.

"Whaaaaaat?" he chuckled, grinning at her flirtatiously. "You thought you were the only magic person out there?"

"I—!"

Her eyes narrowed with skepticism. She tilted her head slightly to the side, continuing to peer at him in careful wonder as she tried to decipher whether or not he was telling the truth.

The Spirit of Winter's smile faded. Letting out his breath, he then gave her a tiny nod.

"Yeah. Like I said," Jack said softly. "Cynical."

He let his wrists sink into the handcuffs.

After another few long moments of studying him, the young queen finally scoffed, giving her head a shake. Her expression hardening, her teeth clicked together.

"And… like I said," she gritted, readjusting her grip on the quill, "We are not discussing my love life. And you will not be bringing it up again."

"Bringing up your—?"

He paused. An instant later, clicking together the puzzle pieces of their conversation, Jack's mouth fell open. Restraining from a smirk, the Guardian raised a single eyebrow, huffing a bit and regarding the Ice Powers Girl with a knowing glint in his eyes.

"I… wasn't," Jack Frost drawled.

She stiffened.

The Snow Queen's eyes widened, her face reddening as she realized her slip. Quickly fixing her expression, she gave her head a quick shake.

"But—for the record," Jack added, unable to keep his grin contained, "I… am also… single."

She didn't look up, pretending to be engrossed in her notes. Pausing—and then coming up with something to write down—she frantically dipped her quill into the inkwell again, replacing it on the parchment to furiously scribble down a few more words.

Jack leaned forward against the handcuffed. "Just in case that information is interesting to y—"

"—It's NOT."

Queen Elsa finished her last word with a flourish, dotting an i and then replacing the quill into the inkwell. Looking back up at him, she was now glaring daggers once again, her cheeks still flushed an adorable shade of pink.

Sure, Jack thought, feeling himself standing up a bit straighter in the handcuffs as he tried to keeping from smiling. Let's go with that, Snowflake.

As if she could read his mind, the Snow Queen's teeth clicked together, her glare darkening. Schooling her expression, she then forced herself to sit up straight again, calmly folding her hands over one another on her lap.

"I can see what you're trying to do," she said icily. "And I am not that easily distracted, if you think I'm going to make a big mistake. I cannot, and will not, fail Arendelle. Especially right now."

"What's so special about right now?"

Her eyebrows lifted. "You—don't know?" she asked, genuine confusion in her eyes.

Jack shook his head.

The young queen relaxed, her shoulders sinking a bit as she sat back in her chair. "Well. As I'm certain that anyone who has recently read a newspaper is aware," Queen Elsa enunciated, "My younger sister Anna is pregnant. And as we publicly announced, the difficulty of this pregnancy is the entire reason that I have been temporarily reinstated as Acting Queen, and am residing in the castle at all."

"How could—"

"—My turn!"

"Wait, hold on, though!" Jack protested, "I'm asking a political question, not a personal one. I should be allowed to ask you about policy. I mean, you're the queen, right? You can teach me."

She snapped her mouth shut, pressing her lips together. Holding his hands up in surrender, Jack leaned in close to the bars.

"I think we should play a game," he tried again. "It's called: let's pretend that I have no idea how royal stuff works."

The Snow Queen considered this for a long moment, glancing to the side. After a few moments, she shrugged.

"Alright," she conceded. "You may proceed."

Shifting in the handcuffs, Jack huffed a laugh of disbelief. "Temporarily reinstated?" he asked, "You can be reinstated as queen? Since when is THAT a thing?"

"Since Queen Anna and I added an amendment to the law allowing for it to be."

"Queen Anna?"

"Yes," she nodded. "My younger sister is the Queen of Arendelle."

Now, Jack was REALLY confused.

"Your… younger sister is the queen?" he asked slowly.

"I gave up my crown when I moved to the Enchanted Forest."

"Give up your crown!? How does that—"

"—It is a long, if not somewhat confidential, story," she snapped, "And I don't feel obligated to divulge the whole thing right now. But anyway, a year ago, I had to leave the castle for a couple of weeks, and when I got back, I found out that my Royal Council had somehow managed to dismantle everything that—"

Suddenly realizing what she was saying, the young woman cut herself off. Giving her head a quick shake, she then pulled in her breath.

"Anyway," she tried again, shifting in her seat, "Anna's been learning the ropes really brilliantly. But she needed a break with the pregnancy, and we needed to make sure that Arendelle still had an Acting Queen. So, we rewrote the succession law to allow for me to be reinstated, so that she could take a leave without everything falling apart."

"But if she's the queen," Jack pressed, pulling at the handcuffs and nodding to scratch his head, "Can't she just take a break whenever she wants?"

The Ice Powers Girl didn't answer.

After a few seconds of staring into each other's eyes, Jack shifted on his feet, twisting uncomfortably in the handcuffs. He huffed again, smiling back at her wryly.

"Super-secret royal something, right?" he chuckled.

Her stare hardened into a glare, her entire body suddenly tense in her seat. Jack's smile faded.

"Okay…" he conceded, trying again, "Is… the stony silence a way of telling me that you're not answering that?"

The young queen remained silent, her lips pressed together into a firm line.

"I'll—take that as a yes," Jack muttered.

After a few moments, she placed the ice-clipboard and quill onto the crystalline table beside her, rising from her chair. "It doesn't matter," she gritted, her voice dangerously soft. "Why Anna needs me to keep this position active is irrelevant, because for the next few months, for as far as you, or anyone else is concerned: I am the Reigning Queen of Arendelle. And I will be treated as such."

Standing on the other side of the bars, the stunningly beautiful Snow Queen stood before him, her piercing eyes as cold as a glacier. The moonlight sparkling off of the ice crystals on her gown, she was a fortress—strong, unshakable, and with many secrets buried deep inside.

Oh—and, clearly not about to surrender any more information on this subject.

What is even going ON in this kingdom?

"Okaaaaaay," Jack said carefully, "So… let me see if I've got this right. Your sister in on leave because of the pregnancy, so you're filling in for her?"

"Correct."

"Aaaaaaaand I'm not allowed to ask about the super-secret royal thing."

"Also correct."

"Alright," he shrugged, hiding his curiosity as he switched to another question, "So, you said something about moving to an Enchanted Forest; what in the BLIZZARDS do you—"

"—It's my turn, young man. That's enough questions for now."

He stopped talking, taking a tiny step back. Still shackled, he gestured for her to go ahead.

The young queen studied him again, picking up her quill. "You don't seem to—know very much about Arendelle's current political situation," she said quizzically, "You—you were hired at the last minute, weren't you? How long have you been involved with your current organization?"

His brow crinkled. "You mean, the Guardians?"

"Um—yes."

"Since last March. But!" Jack added quickly, seeing the confused shock on her face, "My coming here was kind of—unexpected."

To this, the young queen nodded. "So… it was a last-minute decision," she said darkly. "I see. And I'm guessing that this all came as something of a surprise to you?"

In his mind's eye, Jack Frost was suddenly back in the Workshop, being held fast on the North's thigh with the Guardian of Wonder's questioning, demanding, and very big eyes only an excruciatingly uncomfortable few inches from his own.

The Spirit of Winter nodded.

"Definitely," Jack choked.

The Ice Powers Girl was still writing, dipping the quill into the inkwell a few times and then continuing to scribble frantic notes, the characteristic scritch scritch scritching sound of her quill filling the space. After a few moments, Jack pulled in his breath.

"I'm pretty sure it's my turn," he said.

She paused, her quill stilling. Then, without looking up, the Snow Queen nodded, starting to write again.

Scritch. Scritch scritch.

"Okay," Jack started slowly, raising a single eyebrow, "When I was first in here…"

He paused, glancing to the bed.

Finally looking up, she nodded. "Yes?" Queen Elsa asked.

Jack teasingly looked up at her through his eyelashes.

"Were you just negotiating a trade agreement," he chuckled, "In your sleep?"

She jolted, her face flushing. "So what if I was?"

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. "You really need to take a break from this Queen thing."

"Can't do that."

"But—"

"—In fact," she interrupted, her smile suddenly fading as she sat up, glancing back down to her quill, "I—I probably need to be getting back to it."

"Wait, the Queen thing?" he laughed. "Uh… ma'am? It's kind of the middle of the night."

"Yes," she enunciated, setting the writing implement to the side, "It is. Isn't it?"

She smiled coldly.

Jack felt blood rising to his face.

Picking up the parchment, Queen Elsa cleared her throat, regally crossing her ankles and looking down to it. "So… to review," she sighed, "According to my notes… Jack…"

He nodded. "Jack Frost. Yep."

She visibly restrained from rolling her eyes.

"You are currently employed by the Man in the Moon as a professional fun-haver, you guard children against something you never specified, you have magic that gives you the ability to fly, you're invisible to anyone that doesn't believe you exist, and you're in Arendelle because…?"

She slowly looked up from the parchment, raising a single eyebrow. After a few moments, she looked back down, reading one of the final sentences.

"Because Santa Claus threw you into a magic portal from the North Pole," Elsa finished coldly.

Awkward silence.

"Uh… right," Jack choked.

The Spirit of Winter watched as she placed the parchment back onto the end table on top of the tablet and quill, shaking her head and pushing herself up onto her feet.

"Oooh, I did not need this tonight," she mumbled miserably.

Her face pained, she forced a smile.

"Well, then," the Snow Queen sighed, walking towards the art gallery, "Thank you for your cooperation. We will resume in—"

"—But it's true!" Jack protested, yanking against the handcuffs again, "I—I swear it's—why are you—?"

His voice trailed off as she left the room, passing through the door into the art gallery. Straining to hear, Jack Frost could tell that she was at the desk, rummaging through the drawers for something.

After a few more moments, Queen Elsa was coming through the door again, the ice particles on her dress sparkling as she swept past the window, dropping a large key into a velvet bag.

"There is a private holding cell by the dungeons. It's meant to be used for—special—prisoners of the King or Queen," she told him, "So, it should be empty. If my guards can't see you, I will escort you there myself."

Jack's mouth fell open as she drew herself up, closing her eyes in concentration and lifting her hands towards the bars.

"Wait!"

She paused, opening her eyes again.

"Can't I just stay here?" he blurted hopefully, "I mean—okay, if I can keep trying to convince you—"

"—Magic portals?" Elsa snapped, "Santa Claus? Oh! The Man in the Moon?!"

Jack Frost looked down to his feet, shifting uncomfortably in the handcuffs.

"Maybe I can convince you in the morning?" he squeaked.

She glared.

"I'm sorry," Elsa drawled. "I already have a previous engagement with the Big Dipper."

She whirled away from him again, tossing the bag onto the icy end table and reaching for the chair. A wave of panic sweeping through him, Jack leapt forward, gripping the bars in the handcuffs.

"I still have my last question!"

Queen Elsa stopped.

"One more!" Jack pleaded, "Please! I—I just want to ask one more question."

A long moment passed in silence.

Jack watched as the young queen let out her breath in defeat, her tense shoulders relaxing, still facing away from the cell. Crossing her arms over her chest as she shrugged her long, loose blonde locks to the side, she reluctantly let go of the chair and turned around, staring into his eyes.

"Fine," she sighed. "One more."

The quiet fell again. Jack pulled in his breath, staring at the stunningly beautiful young queen through the bars as she stood before him, her piercing, intelligent gaze locked onto his own.

He leaned forward in the handcuffs, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"How long have you believed in Jack Frost?"

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

7: REAL

Elsa could feel the unwelcome brightness of the morning sunlight on her eyelids long before she opened them, the weight of exhaustion pounding against the inside of her forehead. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned slightly in the covers, trying to place the inexplicable trepidation clouding her mind.

Oh… right. It was today.

Feeling strangely constricted in her stomach, the young queen reluctantly drug herself back into consciousness, fighting against the sweeping feeling of dread rushing through her body as she sat up. The housing reform. Oh, dear, that housing reform. This was going to be unpleasant…

Elsa groaned, sliding her fingers into her hair. It was strangely light, for being so early. If she wasn't up and about by eight o'clock, the guards were instructed to get a maid to come in and wake her, and she hadn't heard any such thing. The meeting was at ten. If it wasn't yet eight, then it meant that she had a couple of hours to prepare herself, before—

" But SOFT! "

GAUGH!

Elsa jolted, whipping her head around to locate the source of the sound.

"What light through yonder window breaks!" the voice laughed as she looked up, "It is the east! And your finally, FINALLY being up, is the sun…"

On the other side of her bedroom, hovering up by her ceiling, a gangly, white-haired young man was floating upside-down in an icy jail cell. Effortlessly hanging from a gnarled shepherd's crook by his knees, he reached forward to touch the frozen wall in front of his face, casually drawing in the frost with his pointer finger.

He sucked in a long breath, pressing his chin in towards his neck.

"Arise, fair sleepy person, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief," he finished dramatically, thwapping his hand over his heart, "That thou, her maid, art more fair than she…"

He reached forward again and swept his hand over the frost, and a cluster of snowflakes burst out from underneath his fingertips, catching the sunlight as they fell. Without righting himself, the young man grinned, turning and looking at her.

"Morning, Snowflake," he chuckled.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat, her eyes bulging as the memories came flooding back into her mind. Ripping back the covers, she looked down to her stomach and realized with horror that she was fully dressed, wearing a hastily-formed blue gown made of ice.

"I hope you're not expecting any more than that," the boy laughed, making her jump again. "Because that's all I've got. Bunny would've thrown something at me by now."

"But you—you—!"

"—Also, I do not recommend picking a fight with The Moon."

"I—!"

Blood rushing to her face, Elsa shook her head, dropping the edge of the blanket. Frantically twisting around, she flipped over and reached for her nightstand, snatching up the elegant ice rose and staring at it in shock. It was real—the cold, smooth ice was leaving its characteristic chill against her fingers as she held it, the crystalline rose every bit as elegant and perfect as it was in the dream.

It was real.

It. Was. REAL.

"But—b-but you—!" Elsa choked.

She snapped her head up helplessly, staring at the young man in the jail cell with horror. Still hanging from the floating staff, he raised his eyebrows.

"I'm still here?" he offered.

Elsa said nothing, but blushed furiously, leaning over and gingerly placing the ice rose back on her nightstand. The young man laughed again, turning back to the wall as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"It's good to sleep in sometimes. You obviously needed it," he said casually. "I'm glad you're up, though. I was about to start chucking snowballs at you to see if you were still alive."

"Sleep in?" Elsa asked quizzically, "What are you talking about? If I'd slept past eight, a maid would have come and woken me."

"Oh, is that who that was?"

She jolted. "Wait, what?"

"Well—a while ago, somebody was trying to get in," the young man admitted, still hanging upside-down from the staff, "But they couldn't get through the ice."

Her face went pale. "I overslept?" Elsa gasped.

"I guess. I was wondering if I should try to get you up, but you looked really tired, so—"

"—I OVERSLEPT!?"

Before he could respond, Elsa was leaping from the bed, scrambling onto her feet and sprinting for the art gallery. Oh, no. Ooooh, no, no, no, no, NO; this was not happening!

Rounding the corner of the doorframe, she whipped around, running over to her desk. Good. Yes. There it was. The file. The housing reform file. Everything ready to go. Oh, thank heavens she'd put it together the night before…

Snatching up the folder, Elsa whirled back, picking up the edge of her skirt and running for the bedroom. Scrambling around the corner of the doorframe again, she ran over to the dresser, slapping the file down onto its surface and looking to the jail cell.

"Do you know what time it is?" she blurted.

"Uh, daytime?"

"Helpful."

Sprinting back across the room, she burst into the art gallery, running for the desk.

Reaching it, Elsa frantically shuffled through the papers, shoving the in-progress ice statue to the side. It was here somewhere—her father's old pocketwatch, left behind when he had boarded the ship almost four years ago, that had become her personal clock in this secret study.

Yanking open the drawer and picking up a stray envelope, a glint of gold caught Elsa's eye.

Jolting, she reached into the drawer for the chain, carefully pulling up the little watch. The morning sunlight glinting off its face, she squinted. Nine forty-seven.

Thirteen minutes until the meeting.

Oh, thank heavens.

Replacing it by the envelopes, Elsa shoved the drawer in and turned around, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Pushing herself off from the desk, she then shakily pulled in her breath, her head reeling as her mind began to catch up with her racing heart.

Thirteen minutes. If she changed in two minutes, did her hair in three minutes, spent thirty seconds freshening up the previous day's makeup, and skipped breakfast entirely, there was still enough time to get to the Council. She would get to the Council, introduce the reform, have the Councilmen inevitably try to rip it apart, calmly destroy their arguments, and then push it through, after which point she would reward herself by spending the rest of the day with Anna, and eating massive quantities of chocolate to calm down. She would be calm. She would be calm, and it would be fine, because she was the Snow Queen. There was still enough time to get ready. The file had been prepared the night before. Everything was in line for the reform.

Jack Frost was in her room.

The realization hitting her again, Elsa felt a wave of nausea sweep over her body, followed by panic. Jack Frost was in her room. HOW WAS JACK FROST IN HER ROOM?!

In a jail cell.

Built of ice.

Oh, the irony. Elsa's head started swimming again, and she collapsed back against the desk, clapping her hand to her forehead.

Wait. Slow down, she thought desperately, mentally scolding herself and trying to pull in a deep breath, You don't KNOW he's Jack Frost. He could still be just a really, really clever assassin.

Who can fly.

And has ice powers.

And perfectly fits every single credible description of Jack Frost you've ever read, except for the part about being breathtakingly handsome and HOUSING REFORM! FOCUS!

Shaking her head vigorously, as if trying to shake the thought from her mind, she jumped and determinately stomped forward, pulling her blue used-to-be-coronation ice gown off of its hanger. There, behind it, was her Spirit Dress.

Elsa paused for a moment, staring at it with longing. Oh, how she missed the Forest... but, no. She was here. She was the Acting Queen, she was in charge of Arendelle, and Anna and Arendelle's people needed. Her. Here. Her Spirit Dress would simply have to wait, just like everything else. Giving her head another shake, she gripped her blue dress, spinning around and pacing quickly back towards her room.

Stepping through the doorway, Elsa looked up and gasped.

All across her corner on the opposite side of the room, covering up the two solid walls in the cell and spilling out beyond the edges of the bars, was a delicate dusting of snow. Rising out of the snow itself were dozens and dozens of ice flowers; roses and lilies, sunflowers and morning glories, all sizes and varieties of flora, with their blooms reaching out from the wall in delicate, crystalline ice statues, as if they had been halfway-pulled up from the frosty drawings in a stunningly beautiful, elaborate mural of ice.

The Spirit of Winter was—doodling.

She crept forward in wonder, her eyes wide as she watched the white-haired young man, still hanging upside-down by the ceiling, pull his pointer finger back, finishing a traced-out etch of a petunia. Taking in a deep breath, he slowly reached for it, the dusting of frost shimmering as he gently pulled the drawing out from the wall. As the mist hovered before him, holding the shape of the flower, he guided a long breath of air across it.

The petals instantly hardened into solid ice, the blossom creaking and gleaming as it did so, joining the dozens of other intricate flowers reaching out of her wall. Noticing Elsa's jaw-dropped staring, the young man craned his head back, his white hair hanging as he looked to her. Color rising to his cheeks, he looked at Elsa.

And then back to the wall.

And then to Elsa again.

"I got bored," he said simply.

She said nothing, clutching her coronation gown to her chest and staring at him in awe.

After a few moments, he reached up, grasping his staff and slowly pulling himself over in the air.

"Uh..." he added, smiling sheepishly, "And—and girls like flowers. Right? So, I figured—"

"—That's bad for the wallpaper," Elsa blurted.

His mouth fell open in shock.

"Says the girl that froze the carpet?" the young man sputtered. "You froze the CARPET, and you're worried about the wallpaper?"

"My ice doesn't melt unless I want it to," she retorted. "It's different."

"Was that supposed to be an insult?"

"I—"

"—Because it sounded like an insult."

"I—!"

Elsa snapped her mouth shut, looking down to the dress in her arms and blushing furiously. That wasn't her ice, on the wall. And he—the young man—was definitely—floating. That was—it—the dream—well, if he wasn't Jack Frost, then—?

The young man in the jail cell was laughing softly under his breath, and Elsa jolted back into focus. His eyes playful, he smiled good-naturedly, snatching the staff out from under his thighs and tumbling forward through the air to land silently on the ice-covered carpet below. Spinning around to face her as he swung his shepherd's crook behind his back and caught it, the white-haired young man walked towards the bars.

"You're wondering if you kissed me," he chuckled.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

Fighting back the heat rushing to her face, she regally drew herself up. "Why on earth would I wonder that?" Elsa scoffed.

"Because you did?"

She froze.

Shrinking from the boy's piercing gaze, Elsa readjusted her grip on the dress, clutching it tightly to her chest and looking down to her feet.

"You have no proof of that," she stammered.

"Actually…"

Reaching his left hand across, the young man pushed up his opposite sleeve, then making a fist and turning his forearm around to her. Her throat tightening with shock, Elsa realized that a long, shimmering, deep crimson mark was smeared across his pale skin, like he had wiped his forearm across his mouth, and had rubbed off…

Lipstick.

Oh, no.

Blushing furiously, Elsa stumbled back a step, her mouth falling slightly open with shock. The young man raised his eyebrows again, glancing to his arm, and then flirtatiously peering back at her through his eyelashes.

"I wouldn't have wiped it off," he grinned. "But I kind of wanted to keep it. You know—as proof?"

"Well—maybe it's not," Elsa squeaked. "It could be a bruise."

"A sparkly bruise?"

"It could happen."

"Really."

"It could!"

He laughed, then grinning flirtatiously at her again, glancing to her lips before looking back into her eyes. "Well, ma'am," he said casually, "If you're not convinced, you could give me another sample for color comparison, and—"

"—Ugh!"

Elsa abruptly whirled away from him, shaking her head and pacing harshly across the room with the dress. The sharp sting of humiliation in her throat, she threw the gown onto her bedspread, taking a few steps back and starting to reach to her stomach to melt the one she was wearing.

Suddenly remembering the young man in the jail cell, she paused, turning around to face him. Setting her jaw, Elsa stomped on the ground, pulling her arms into the air.

Rumble rumble rumble.

A tall, thick wall of ice rose up in front of her. Nodding curtly, Elsa turned around and reached for the dress she was wearing.

There was a snort from the other side of the room divider.

"You could have just asked me not to look," he scoffed.

Feeling the familiar sensation of the ice of her current dress flying off her body, a shimmering mist in the morning light as it disintegrated, Elsa scoffed.

"I don't know what it's like where you're from," she retorted coldly, "But in my kingdom, it's seen as poor taste for a lady to change clothes in front of a man she's known for under twelve hours."

"Touché."

Picking up the gown on her bed, Elsa carefully drew her finger down the front of its bodice, melting a long slash into the icy fabric, and then stepping into it, pulling the dress up over her hips. She could have simply made a new one, but this was her coronation gown—or, at least, it was, before she'd turned it into ice. She had briefly changed it two summers ago for Anna's birthday party, but nostalgia had gotten the better of her, and she'd eventually reverted it to its original color and shape. it was still a bit over-the-top (everything from that time had been a little bit over-the-top), but Elsa had developed a habit of wearing it to all her important royal affairs. While she was back in the castle, it was her lucky dress, and the unusual events of the previous night were not going to change anything about the way she ran her kingdom.

Even if they did involve Jack Frost.

And—kissing him.

Apparently.

Pulling on her sleeve, Elsa felt heat rushing to her face. Ooooh, she could not believe that she had done that. When one was reinstated as The Queen, there were some things that one simply did not do, and awarding kisses to random scoundrels in the middle of the night was about ten of them. Even if Said Random Scoundrel was Jack Frost.

She paused.

I kissed Jack Frost?

Elsa's mouth fell open at the realization. As she slowly looked up, pulling on her other sleeve, a hint of a dreamy little smile tugged at the edge of her mouth.

Well—um—heh. That—that was actually kind of FOCUS, ELSA! FOCUS!

Jolting, she blushed, shaking her head vigorously and freezing the slit in the front of the dress back together. She didn't—know—he was Jack Frost. And she needed to concentrate. The Council. The housing reform. How much time had she wasted already?

STUPID girl! Elsa scolded herself desperately as she ran over to the mirror and dresser, Stupid, stupid, STUPID!

Ignoring the young man in the cell, she yanked out the top drawer, frantically shoving the irrelevant cosmetics to the side in search of her eyeshadow.

"Sheesh," he scoffed, "What's with all the rush?"

Finding her little brush, she ignored him. "I wasn't supposed to sleep in that long," Elsa snapped, reaching for a compact.

"You're exhausted!"

"I'M LATE!"

"Late for what?"

Setting her jaw and slamming down the brush, she whipped around to face him. "The revolution I'm supposed to be leading?!"

"Wait, wait, wait. A Queen—leading a revolution?" he laughed as Elsa angrily spun back around to shove the drawer in, "A little counter-productive, don't you think?"

"Okay. It's not really a revolution," she mumbled, flicking open the compact, "But—but it needs to happen. So, I'm making it happen."

"Making what happen?"

"That is none of your concern."

Elsa snatched up the little brush again, swirling it around in the lilac-colored power and beginning to sweep it onto her eyelids. "Did you really think," she scoffed, "That all it takes to make a queen spill her kingdom's secrets is for a handsome young man to break into her sleeping quarters, and ask her what they are? I don't think so."

Replacing the brush, she snapped the compact shut, setting it down on the dresser and looking back to the mirror to pull back her hair. As she did so, she glanced to the young man in the reflection.

He was grinning.

Her eyes narrowing, Elsa spun around, looking to the jail cell with her best rendition of the Royal Glare.

"What?" she snarled.

The Spirit of Winter raised his eyebrows.

"You think I'm handsome," he chuckled.

Elsa froze.

Her mouth falling open in shock, unable to will her vocal cords to function, she drew herself up. Just as she was about to speak, there was a knock.

She jolted, spinning around to the door. The knock came again.

"Elsa?" Anna's voice called out through the wood, "Elsa, are you up? Can I come in?"

Elsa gasped, running over to the door. Ignoring the boy in the jail cell next to her, she set her feet, closing her eyes in concentration and holding out her arms.

Anna, she thought, slowly pulling in her breath. I love Anna… come to me, sweet, beautiful snow… let me see Anna…

"WHOA!"

Without opening her eyes, Elsa could hear the young man in the cell gasp in shock as the thick layers of ice and snow over the door began to lift away, disintegrating and swirling towards her in long, elegant spirals of frost. After a few moments, feeling the air around her dropping in temperature in the cloud of ice particles, Elsa slowly opened her eyes, looking up as she pulled her hands together.

After a brief pause, the frost compressing into a thin, delicate snowflake spinning across her ceiling, Elsa sighed, throwing her hands apart again and letting it melt into the air, disintegrating into a shimmering mist.

"Sweet… MOTHER of…!" the young man in the cell breathed, staring with disbelief at the ceiling where she'd melted the snow. Without even pausing to look at him, Elsa ran forward to the door, throwing back the bolt and pulling it open.

"Anna!" she exclaimed, leaping to catch her sister as she lurched forward, thrown off balance by her enormously pregnant stomach.

"Thank goodness you're awake!" Queen Anna sputtered, gasping for breath as she righted herself. "Your meeting starts in, what? Ten minutes? They said the door was frozen shut!"

"I know. And, it was," Elsa said quickly, "I was just about to—"

"—So I got you breakfast," Anna interrupted, shoving her a roll.

"Oh, my word. Thank you!"

Elsa took it, letting out her breath as she took a step back. Holding her stomach, the pregnant queen lurched forward another two steps into the room.

"I'm just glad you're awake," she exclaimed, "I was beginning to get worried about you. When I didn't see you come to breakfast, and—what. Is. THAT?"

Her eyes widened, and Elsa looked up from the roll, finishing chewing a bite and swallowing it. Standing in front of the jail cell, Anna was staring straight through the icy bars, her jaw dropped in horror.

Elsa's face went pale.

"I—!" she squeaked, her voice shaking, "But—Anna, I—I can explain—!"

"—Wait," Jack asked, an excited little grin sweeping over his face, "Can—can she see me too?"

He jumped up, walking straight up to the gawking, redheaded queen and coming to a stop right in front of her. "It's because you're sisters, right?" he asked eagerly, sticking his hand out through the bars, "Elsa told you about me, right? I…"

Anna, still staring into the jail cell in horror, didn't respond. Elsa watched as Jack Frost—his voice trailing off—slowly lowered his hand.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Didn't think so."

Elsa stared.

"Well. I guess you can relax, Snowflake," Jack sighed, turning away and walking towards the back of the cell as Elsa jumped. "You don't have to explain why there's a guy in your room."

Before she could respond, he bounced into the air. Whipping the shepherd's crook around his feet, Jack Frost suddenly swept a large snowbank into existence on the floor of the cell, and Anna gasped, spinning around to Elsa with bulging eyes.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

"I—did that," she stammered.

CRUNCH.

Jack Frost had flipped forward in the air, landing in the snowbank.

"And I did that, too," Elsa choked.

A look of horror at the sudden indentation swept over Anna's face. Turning to her sister, Elsa stepped in front of the bars, blocking the apparently-invisible young man from view.

"It's—an art project," Elsa improvised.

From behind the snowbank, there was a snort.

"It looks like…" Anna breathed, staring into Elsa's eyes, "A… jail cell."

"THAT'S BECAUSE IT IS ONE," the snowbank yelled.

"I'm—experimenting," Elsa stammered, drawing herself up, "With—long distance—snowdrift formation, and—mental—powers—stuff. As a scientific thing. I'm using the jail cell as part of the project to, uh, test my abilities to think ice into existence, and, not around me, in enclosed spaces so that I can better understand the and now it is snowing."

BOOM.

There was a crash of thunder, and Elsa looked up in paralyzed horror as the stormclouds spilled out from the jail cell, rolling across the ceiling of her bedroom. Lounging back in the snowdrift and rolling the shepherd's crook on his toes as he held his feet in the air, Jack Frost shrugged.

"No, no. You can keep going," he chuckled. "Keep trying to come up with explanations of how you can take credit for this. It's entertaining."

Her fists clenched, Elsa stared at the floor, blood rushing to her face as Jack Frost's snow began to pile up around her.

"I hate you," she whispered.

"Wait, what?"

"NO! Not you!" Elsa blurted, spinning back around to Anna, who was staring at her in hurt confusion, "Him! I mean—um—him—referring to—my subconscious. That I'm characterizing as male. Because—uh, because reasons, and—!"

Anna was staring at her in confusion.

"I'm really stressed out right now," Elsa squeaked.

"Oh. Right."

Anna smiled weakly, beginning to back away towards the door again. Elsa bit her lip, following.

"I'm sorry, Anna," she choked, "It's just—my brain—the meeting. Reform thing. I mean, it's really—"

"—It's okay," her sister giggled softly, stepping to the side as Elsa opened the door and let her pass through, "I understand. But you'll meet me after, right? And tell me how it goes?"

"Yes. Sure. Of course."

Elsa paused.

"Wait," she asked, "Um… meet you after what?"

"Your meeting?"

"OH! Right! Right…"

Pausing in the doorway, Queen Anna turned around, putting her hand on Elsa's shoulder and looking into her eyes.

"Elsa," she whispered, "You're going to do great. I'm sure you'll be able to get it through. But I'm—worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Elsa repeated, "Why? I have all the data and the calculations, and the numbers all clearly indicate that—"

"—That's not what I mean, sissy. I mean, you," Anna said softly. "I appreciate what you're doing for me. Really. Keeping the Council in check, and everything, and all of our stuff you're trying to push through before I come back, but—"

The pregnant queen pulled in her breath, her mouth twisted to the side as she tried to decide what to say.

"Elsa... in two weeks, it's Christmas," Anna pressed, "Even the Council takes a break at Christmas. You don't have to be working ALL the time."

"Hey! Snowflake!" the young man stage-whispered, "Listen to your sister!"

Fwoom!

Elsa calmly pulled her hand back as the pile of powder dropped on his head, burying him in snow. As he coughed and sputtered, thrashing his way out of the snowdrift, she looked back to Anna.

"Part of the art project," she shrugged. "Because art projects are supposed to be silent. And I promise, I'll take a break as SOON as the Council is taken care of."

"You promise?"

Elsa nodded, biting her lip and drumming her fingers on the edge of the door. Anna smiled reassuringly, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"You can do this," Anna tried again, letting go and backing into the hallway. "And I'll see you after. I love you!"

To this, Elsa smiled weakly, gratefully looking up into her sister's eyes. "Thanks, Anna," she whispered. "I love you, too."

Click.

She pushed the door closed. Leaning her forehead against the painted wood, Elsa let out her breath, running her fingers over the knob. Then, pulling herself up, she turned around to the icy jail cell again.

The white-haired young man, having crawled out of the fresh powder, was now lying in the snowdrift once again and watching her. As she turned around to face him, he smirked.

"OoOOooOoooh," Jack Frost warbled under his breath, "The weather outside is friiiightful…"

"That was not funny," Elsa choked.

The young man let out a sharp bark of laughter, craning his head back to look at her from the snowbank. "Really?" he chuckled, picking up the staff and effortlessly leaping onto his feet, "Because, I thought it was hilarious."

Elsa blushed furiously. Scoffing and turning away from him, paced quickly across the room to her dresser, her long capelet billowing across the carpet behind her. Snatching up the file, she frantically pulled back its cover, her eyes falling onto the top paper.

ARENDELLE HOUSING REFORM

"You know what you need?" the young man laughed, walking towards the front of the jail cell as Elsa anxiously flipped through the papers, "You need to learn how to relax."

"I am relaxed."

Check, check, check, check, Elsa thought, glancing over the titles, Benefits, timeline, projected cost sheet, building company comparison…

He scoffed again. "Speaking as the professional fun-haver, here—"

"—With all due respect," Elsa snapped, walking towards the door with the file as she kept quickly sifting through the papers, "I still don't consider that particular self-proclaimed credential of yours to be a credible one. Therefore, until such a time as you can prove that you are who you say you are, I'm afraid that I will be continuing to call the shots on what is, and is not, fun."

She looked up from the file, raising her eyebrows. After a moment of staring at her in confusion, trying to process the statement, the young man jumped, his eyes bulging.

"YOU STILL DON'T BELIEVE I'M JACK FROST?!" he sputtered.

"Until such a time as you can—"

"—WHAT'S IT GONNA TAKE, PRINCESS?!"

"My being awake, and not distracted," she said matter-of-factly. "This meeting shouldn't last for more than a couple of hours. You can continue to convince me then. And I'm a queen, for the record."

"I just made it snow!" he protested. "In. Your ROOM!"

"I could have done it by accident. Subconsciously."

"How about the flying?"

"Could be a trick."

"And the wind?"

"A window could have opened without my knowledge."

"My shirt has ice on it."

"I could have done that, too."

"WHY—"

"—Because," Elsa said forcefully, "Given the currently distracted state of my brain, it is still completely possible that you are, indeed, a product of my lack of sleep and overactive imagination!"

She nodded determinately, setting her jaw and snapping the file shut. The young man glared.

"Or… I'm Jack Frost," he said slowly. "Why are you so set on the subconscious thing?"

Elsa drew herself up. "Because there is a perfectly logical explanation for all of this," she stammered angrily, "For—for you, and the snow, and the snowstorm, and this all happening on the day of reform, that probably stems from my stressed-out, revolution-preoccupied BRAIN; a logical reason for this all happening, that does not involve having my adolescent fictional character crush magically SHOW UP in my bedroom in the middle of the night to make fun of me in front of my sister!"

The young man in the cell raised his eyebrows.

"Uh…" he grinned, "Did you say, crush?"

"No."

Elsa bit down hard on her lip, whirling around and pacing across the room to her dresser, snatching up the file. She spun back to face him, hugging it to her chest.

"Now. If you'll excuse me," Elsa said coldly, "I have a reform to run."

She turned away, sweeping across the room, clutching the file as her long, sparkling capelet billowed across the carpet behind her. Leaping over the snowbank, the young man ran to the front of the cage, grabbing the bars.

"And if I were Jack Frost," he sputtered, "Would you still be keeping me here?"

Elsa paused.

Slowly turning back to face him, she looked into his intelligent, piercingly blue eyes for a long moment, the white-haired young man staring at her through the bars of the icy jail cell.

A hint of a smirk tugging at the edge of her mouth, Elsa dropped her voice to a whisper.

"If you were Jack Frost…" she laughed softly, "I don't think I'd ever release you."

His mouth fell open. Before he could protest, however, the Snow Queen was throwing open her door, stepping out into the hallway and whisking her capelet through after her.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

9: SOMEPLACE FUN

She didn't ever actually feel him touch down on the ground.

The flight was short, high, cold, and completely terrifying in a distinctly nauseating sort of way. When she was out Nokk-riding, she was still in control, and there was a literal ocean to catch her if she fell. The speed was comparable, but the height?No such luck.

Having left her stomach back somewhere on the balcony, from the moment he'd leapt into the air, Elsa had buried her head in his chest, clutching onto the ice-covered fabric of the young man's shirt with terror. Usually, she would have protested, done something to protect herself as she'd been helplessly scooped up into his wiry arms, but she was still in far too much shock to think straight.

How could the Council invite suitors without her approval? Did they find out about the reform? If so, how? She and Anna had worked so hard to make sure that it was a secret… Her mind raced, heart pounding as her eyes went dry, the tears slowing to a stop as she struggled to analyze the situation. Were signatures forged? Or was this some trick of theirs? They always had another trick… it was unreal. That's what it was. Simply put, it didn't. Make. Sense. By comparison, the fact that a strange young man claiming to be her childhood hero had just kidnapped her from her own sleeping quarters and was now flying her hundreds of feet over Arendelle seemed positively normal.

Not that she was going to open her eyes.

Elsa waited until he gently set her down in the snow to let go of the young man's shirt, shakily releasing the fabric and pulling in her breath. Hesitantly looking up, she found herself sitting on the bank of a small lake, covered over with ice, in the middle of a clearing of trees.

She had never been to this place before…

The young man cleared his throat. She sucked in her breath, snapping her head up.

"Well," he started softly, "It's not exactly enchanted, but—you wanted a forest. Right?"

He smiled hopefully, shrugging at their surroundings. Looking around, Elsa realized that they were standing in a tiny clearing in the forest, tall, thick trees surrounding a little pond.

"So—you took me to a forest?" she realized, her eyes widening.

"Yep," he confirmed, his smile widening. "And, now that we're away from all of that—at least now you should believe me now about my identity."

His voice trailed off, and he raised his eyebrows, leaning into the staff.

Elsa broke eye contact. After a few moments of silence—

"YOU'RE STILL NOT CONVINCED?!"

"I'm s-sorry," Elsa choked, "It's just that I—"

"—I just PICKED YOU UP, and FLEW YOU OVER YOUR KINGDOM!" he sputtered, "Are you in denial?! I mean, am I missing something? Do you not WANT me to be Jack Frost, or—"

"—IWantYouToBeJackFrost!" Elsa blurted.

The words had tumbled out before she could stop them, and Elsa snapped her mouth shut, sucking in her breath. Staring even more determinately into her lap, she hugged her knees to her chest, feeling blood rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment.

The young man walked towards her, crouching down in front of her in the snow.

"Hey."

Elsa didn't respond, biting her lip. He scooted an inch closer, trying again.

"Ma'am, will you please look at me?"

She swallowed hard, hesitantly looking up, but not quite meeting his eyes. The boy sighed, shaking his head.

"Okay," he started carefully, "You—um—you said you researched Jack Frost. Right?"

She closed her eyes. After a few moments, Elsa nodded.

"I did," she admitted. "Right."

"So, why don't you tell me everything you do know about m—uh, him?"

Elsa let out her breath, scoffing softly and looking up. The white-haired young man was staring at her, raising his eyebrows.

She sighed in defeat.

"Okay," Elsa choked, blushing in embarrassment, "Um… ice powers."

He nodded. "Check."

"White hair."

"Check again."

"Blue eyes."

"Yep."

"Carries a stick?"

"It's a staff."

"Likes kids."

"You're gonna have to trust me on that one, but yes."

"Can fly."

"I think we've got that covered."

"Fun."

Elsa's eyes widened at the sudden realization, and she suddenly pulled in her breath. Looking up again, she realized that the white-haired young man crouching in front of her was frozen, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock.

"Uh…" he breathed, "What… did you say?"

"Fun," Elsa repeated, sitting up. "Jack Frost is fun. I mean, in all the accounts, and stories, and—! How can you possibly be Jack Frost, if you aren't fun?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. He then closed it again, looking into her face with disbelief.

"How—H-How did you—?"

His voice trailed off. Hiding it, he then let out a nervous bark of laughter, and shook his head vigorously. Pushing himself up, he took a few steps back from her in the snow.

"Well—never mind how you knew tha—yeah, never mind," he laughed breathlessly, "THAT part's easy. The fun, I mean. That's what I brought you here for, anyway." He crouched down next to her in the snow, gazing up through his eyelashes. "And you, ma'am, are in more desperate need of fun than anyone I've ever seen."

"B-But I already told you," Elsa quavered, "I don't like having fun. I mean—I can't. I'm the Queen. I've been reinstated. I don't have time for—"

"—BALONEY."

She stopped, looking up at him in shock. The young man's expression was suddenly grave, his previously flirtatious gaze now hardened into a glare.

"I—"

"—Okay, change of plans. Now we're here because I'm going to prove you wrong," he interrupted, putting his hand on his thigh and pushing himself up, "Speaking as the professional fun-haver here, you ARE going to have some fun in your life, and you ARE going to enjoy it, whether you like it or not."

"I've told you, I can't!"

"Yeah, you can."

"But I—"

"—Will you please just believe in yourself?"

He offered her his hand.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat, and she quickly looked down, breaking eye contact. Anxiously fidgeting with her fingers, she bit her lip, still seeing his outstretched hand in her peripheral vision.

She determinately stared into her lap, frozen as the young man took a step towards her.

"Elsa, will you please just give yourself a chance?" he asked softly. "I know you've got it in you. I can see it in your eyes."

"I—!" Elsa stammered. She shifted uncomfortably in the snowbank, sucking in her breath. "I just don't know if I should. I mean, I probably shouldn't even be here."

A pause.

"Why not?" he sighed. "Do you need me to take you back home?"

"No, it's—well, I want to be here, but—but I—!" She gulped, rocking back in the snow and squeezing her eyes shut. "There's work to do. Lots of work. I shouldn't be here. I need to get back to work; I should be workin—"

Ting!

Elsa jolted as the enormous snowflake suddenly landed on the tip of her nose, busting apart in front of her eyes. As a sparkling blue mist twinkled in her vision, disintegrating into the air just as quickly as it had materialized, she froze, feeling a strange, inexplicable rush of joy sweep through her body.

Elsa blinked, quaveringly letting out her breath as her muscles relaxed. Giving her head a little shake, she looked up, only to realize that the young man was crouching down in front of her in the snow again, gazing intently into her eyes.

He raised his eyebrows.

"That's more like it," he whispered. "You've been working yourself to death. And a certain somebody told me once—as I recall—that they've got a 'personal responsibility to Arendelle, that involves a great deal of not dying?""

Elsa felt blood rushing to her cheeks.

"I—I suppose you're right," she breathed. "And the meeting was really short, so I should have a little time. Right?"

He stood back up, offering his hand again. "Uh-huh."

"And—and my councilors," Elsa stammered, taking it, "It'll work out."

"Absolutely," the young man replied, pulling her up onto her feet. "And, don't worry about it for now. We'll sort them out when we get back."

She nodded gratefully, straightening her skirt and taking a step forward. She could tell from the drop in temperature that they were in the mountains as well, the air slightly thinner, away from the villages and farmland below. This place, in fact, was closer to the altitude of the North Mountain than anything else, and was certainly higher and colder than most people—even ice-harvesters, like Kristoff once was—would dare venture, especially in the middle of winter.

Staring at the ground, Elsa snuck a look in the young man's direction again, suddenly noticing that he had no shoes, comfortably standing barefoot in the ankle-deep snow.

Ninety-nine-and-a-half percent convinced.

Her heart pounding, she straightened up, looking into his eyes.

"So…what were you wanting to do?"

He spun his staff on the ground, pondering this for a moment. Then, catching it, he stuck his other hand in his pocket, looking back to her and raising his eyebrows again.

"Actually," he said carefully, "I was sort of hoping you could—show me what you can do."

Elsa froze.

Feeling his intense gaze on her face, Elsa looked down again, biting her lip. Anxiously fidgeting with her fingers, she let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head.

"I don't—I d-don't know if I—"

"—What's the matter now?"

"I guess I—um," she stammered, her heart leaping into her throat as he walked toward her again, "I've never really been asked to—um—demonstrate? Before?"

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Look," he reassured her, "You don't need to—like—perform, or anything. I was just wanting to see some more of what you showed me last night."

"What do you mean?"

"Uh—ma'am?" Elsa watched in shock as he reached forward, picking up her hands in his own. "You. Have. Ice Powers. Okay? Just—let 'em go."

Elsa gazed down at her palms as he turned away, the staff falling back onto his shoulder.

"I promise it'll be funnnn," he called over his shoulder.

The midday sun was partially blocked by the thick clouds above them, but a few rogue streams of light made it through to the clearing, catching the sparkling web of ice crystals on his shirt as he moved.

Ice crystals…

"Look, do I need to taunt it out of you?"

Elsa snapped back into focus. He had suddenly spun around to face her again, gazing into her eyes from across the little clearing.

"Taunt it out of me?" she sputtered, "What do you mean?"

He sighed dramatically, a mischievous hint of a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth as he turned away from her again.

"Well… I'm starting to doubt if you've really got it in you. But, I shouldn't be surprised," the young man drawled, shrugging casually, "I mean, if it's really true that ice is more of a guy thing, and—"

FWOOM!

Elsa jolted, her eyes bulging as she stared at her own outstretched arms, and the enormous snowdrift that suddenly had suddenly materialized where the young man had been standing. Seeing the pile of snow shifting, her breath caught as she heard a triumphant laugh ring through the clearing. All of a sudden, a blue-sleeved arm, holding a shepherd's crook, burst out of the snowdrift.

"I—I'm so sorry!" Elsa gasped, running forward to him, "I just—I didn't mean—!"

"—THAT'S more LIKE it!"

A grin on his face, he punched his staff at the sky, and she gasped as a sparkling stream of ice particles shot up through the air into the center of the clearing, expanding into a sheet and bursting apart over the pond. As the glittering mist of snowflakes softly fell towards the dark surface of the partially-frozen water, her heart leapt, and she turned back to face him.

He gestured to her again.

Oh. Um…

Elsa swept her hands over her head, and a half-a-dozen snowflakes flew out of her arms, spiraling above them into the air and fading away in the light. She then sheepishly looked back to the whited-haired young man.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Seriously?"

EeeeeeeEEEEE POW!

Elsa blushed, letting out a self-conscious giggle as her long spiral of snowflakes caught the sunlight, blasting apart into explosions of icy glitter.

He laughed in excitement, flipping backwards and flying across the clearing through the air, whipping his staff around his feet. Elsa gasped as a fierce, cold wind began to rush around her in the clearing, the snow picking up and swirling into the trees as the bottom of her skirt flapped wildly against her legs.

All of a sudden, the young man flipped forward, diving towards the pond and slamming the end of the shepherd's crook onto its surface.

BOOM!

It froze over, hard, a large cloud of frost billowing into the trees like a wave of dust.

Elsa's heart leapt, and she shakily picked up the edge of her skirt, running out onto the ice to meet him as he straightened up. Planting her feet as he turned around to face her, her mind racing, she then closed her eyes in concentration, bending down.

Biting her lip, she pulled her arms into the air.

"WHOA!"

The young man jolted and leapt into the air as the frozen surface of the pond cracked away from its banks, rising into the trees, six gigantic pillars pushing it into the air with a long, dull thundering as Elsa pulled it out of the ground. Twenty feet up, she lowered her arms, turning back to him hopefully.

The young man raised his eyebrows, letting the shepherd's crook fall backwards onto his shoulder. He laughed, shaking his head and grinning.

"You sure that you don't have time for fun, ma'am?" he chuckled.

She said nothing, but reached her right hand across her body, rubbing it on her opposite elbow and smiling up at him shyly.

"Your turn," Elsa whispered.

He nodded, still grinning, and walked calmly to the edge of the pond, flipping the staff forward. Tapping the surface of the ice, he then swung the end of the shepherd's crook into the air, a swirling spiral of frost shooting up out of the clearing.

And it stopped.

As the twisted pillar of frost hovered in its place, catching the sunlight as it slowly turned in the air, Elsa crept up to it in wonder. The young man calmly walked around the frozen floor, tapping his staff on the ice and sending more spirals of shimmering frost bursting up from the ice. As she stood, staring up at the delicate column of mist in awe, Elsa suddenly felt a frigid gust of wind rush past her, and she gasped, whirling around.

With a dull creaking, the twisted pillars of frost instantly hardened into solid ice as the wind rushed past them. Elsa's breath caught, and she ran back into the center of the floor as the white-haired young man flipped backwards into the air, throwing the end of his staff over the clearing with a triumphant laugh.

CRACK!

The enormous snowflake shot up out of the clearing, exploding into millions of delicate snowflakes and falling all around them on the ice.

As she turned back, he was suddenly beside her again, lighting onto the ice with a grin on his face. He bowed dramatically, gesturing for her to make her next move.

A slight hop in her step as she rushed over to the side of the platform, standing between two of the beautiful, twisted columns, Elsa reached forward and swept her hand through the air. A flurry of snow shot through the space between the columns. She then moved her opposite hand in the other direction, and another flurry went spiraling out.

With the young man watching her in curiosity, Elsa took a step back, looking at the frosty x webbed between the pillars. As he walked forward, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock, she swept her hands to the side.

FWOOM!

"MOTHER of—!"

He stumbled backwards in amazement, staring up at the elegant, crystalline wall that had suddenly rolled across the x, delicate patterns spiked out all across its surface. Without even waiting for her next turn, Elsa gasped in delight, running across the ice, throwing her arms out in front of her and sending rocketing streamers of frost sailing over the ice, sticking onto the walls in elegant, spontaneous spirals as the young man laughed, shooting past her and whipping a whirlwind of snowflakes through the air. Creaking, popping, cracking blasts of ice and snow exploded through the structure; walls, arches, and a gigantic, sparkling dome of ice materializing out of the clearing in the blizzard around them.

Elsa could hardly see as the snow rushed around her on the ice, the wind tearing at her long capelet and whipping her skirt against her legs, but she didn't need to. She didn't care. All she needed was to feel it, the rush of frigid air rushing through her braid, as she threw her hands in one way, and then the other, pillars and columns and beautiful crystalline walls erupting out of the floor with explosions of frost. It had been months since she had allowed herself to feel this free. Free, and liberated, and light, and—and—!

Fun.

She felt—fun.

An unexplainable rush of joy swept through her, Elsa laughed, holding out her arms and spinning around and around on the ice, her heart racing as she felt the frost rushing about her legs. The snow, the cold, the glittering on the air; it was amazing, without description, the wind in her ears as she spun, the blizzard swirling, growing stronger, twisting and dancing and whipping and—

"EEP!"

Her spike heel suddenly catching on her capelet, Elsa shrieked, plummeting towards the ground. Just before she hit, a wiry arm shot out of nowhere, and she felt a hard jerk back on her waist. Dangling above the icy floor as she gasped for breath, Elsa looked down to her stomach.

A navy blue sleeve.

"You okay, Snowflake?"

Feeling the heat of embarrassment rushing to her face, Elsa shakily let him pull her back onto her feet, struggling to regain her footing. Brushing off her dress and straightening up, she turned around to face him, sheepishly staring at the ground.

"I—I'm sorry," she choked, "I just—I got a little carried away."

"Do you need to sit down?"

"I—!"

Before he could respond, Elsa shakily nodded, lowering herself onto the ground and collapsing onto the icy floor. Catching a glimpse of his expression before quickly looking away, she saw that the young man was struggling not to laugh.

Her regal, elegant capelet thrown around her on the ice, Queen Elsa bit her lip, her heart pounding as she hugged her knees to her chest. The young man silently stepped forward, crouching down in front of her with his staff across his lap, gazing into her face in the silence.

Rocking back, and then forward again, Elsa pulled in a quick breath, hesitantly looking up into his eyes. She let out a nervous laugh, shifting on the ground.

"I just—I just don't think I've ever had so much—fun," Elsa breathed.

The young man raised his eyebrows.

After a few moments, he grinned, inching another little step towards her on his tip-toes.

"And that—m'lady," he chuckled softly, reaching forward and flicking the end of Elsa's nose, "Is the most fantastic thing I've heard today."

Elsa smiled in spite of herself, continuing to hug her knees to her chest in the childlike position as he winked, placing his hand on his thigh and pushing himself up. Getting onto his feet, the young man laughed under his breath, offering his hand to help her up.

"Do you think you're alright now?" he asked, "Ready to keep building this—whatever we're making?"

Elsa gulped.

His feet stepped into her field of vision again. Elsa blushed, and sat up, fighting back the stinging in her eyes.

"It—it really is you," she whimpered. "Isn't it?"

He said nothing, but smiled sheepishly, his piercing gaze locked into hers as she looked up. As she nervously stared into his boyish face, Elsa suddenly realized that his startlingly blue eyes had delicate, white-streaked patterns in them, like snowflakes.

Snowflakes.

A jolt of shock shot through her, the reality of it all hitting her at once. Her heart pounding, Elsa pulled in a ragged gasp, her vision blurring with tears.

"You really are Jack Frost," Elsa sobbed.

Unable to fight it anymore, she cupped her hands over her eyes, shaking her head as more blood rushed to her face. It was too much. The snow, the cold, the whirlwind of emotions spinning through her mind; the everything, her head reeling, mind racing to catch up as she frantically tried to flick away the tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. How could this—it—b-but it was—!

He was.

"I—I guess I am," he said softly.

"You're—Jack. Frost," Elsa stammered, looking up at him through her fingers, "I mean, I—I studied you! You're amazing, and smart, and fun, and wonderful, and you have ice powers, and—and y-you—I just—I—I c-can't believe that you're—we're—!"

She abruptly cut herself off and shook her head, burying her face in her hands again in embarrassment.

There was a long, silent pause.

Without looking up, Elsa could feel the young man crouch down again, carefully laying his staff down on the ground next to her. After another few moments, she could see his shadow on the ice, his arms reaching forward.

Elsa jolted as she felt his icy fingers curl around her wrists. Sucking in her breath, she froze as the Spirit of Winter gently pulled her hands away from her face, smiling sheepishly and staring into her eyes.

"Hi," Jack whispered.

Chapter Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ah, wouldya look at that? It's MEEEEE, throwing historical accuracy to the wind! In multiple ways! Ha ha, aren't timelines FUN? (In my defense: Disney wasn't super concerned about historical accuracy, either, soooo… that means I'm good, right?)

(ANOTHER) AUTHOR'S NOTE, added 12/17/19: Yep, this is another disproportionately long chapter, because of the Frozen II additions, including some of my personal headcanons (like--you know--the rest of this fanfiction).  Thanks for tolerating me, folks. ;)

.

10: MR. FROST

Elsa and Jack stood together in a peaceful silence, leaning over the balcony of the ice palace they'd built and watching the afternoon sun in its slow descent behind the mountains. So far up north, in December, there were only a few hours of light in each day, so the sky was already beginning to get dark, filled with all the rich colors of the evening.

Gently tracing the crystalline edge of the balcony rail with her finger, Elsa looked to the side, sneaking another glance at him. For all those years of studying and theorizing—a complete secret, of course, well hidden from her parents and tutors—she had formed a great number of ideas about what the Spirit of Winter might actually be like, if she was ever to meet him. And now, here he was, standing next to her on the ice, every bit as fun and clever and wonderful as she'd ever hoped he would be.

"What are you thinking, Elsa?" he said suddenly.

She jumped. Feeling blood rushing to her face, Elsa let out a nervous laugh, suddenly realizing that Jack staring at her.

"I just—you're—um," she stammered, shrugging quickly and looking down again. "You're Jack Frost."

He laughed, shaking his head and leaning back onto the balcony rail. "Well, I'm glad to have finally convinced you."

"It's still kind of a lot to take in."

"Yeah," Jack chuckled. "And you're not the only one getting your mind blown. If that makes you feel any better."

A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face. "Not the only one? What do you mean?" she laughed bitterly. "You're the Spirit of Winter."

"Yeah," he scoffed. "And you're a female with ice powers."

"Wait, what?"

"I said, you're a person with ice powers."

"Oh."

Elsa looked back down to the railing, studying the lines and patterns of light catching in the ice. Letting out her breath, she sighed, her heart swelling as she ran her finger over the railing's smooth, comfortingly cold surface.

Ice could really be so beautiful…

"There it is," he said softly.

She snapped back into focus, blushing and looking back into his eyes. Standing next to her, eyebrows raised, Jack Frost was grinning.

"There what is?" Elsa quavered.

"That smile." He stood up, turning around and leaning back against the railing, looking to her flirtatiously. "You're smiling, there, Snowflake. I see you."

She said nothing, but looked down to her hands on the railing and fidgeted with her fingers. After a few moments, she felt him lean over close next to her.

"Which means I was riiiiiiiiiiiight," Jack sang softly.

Elsa jumped, letting out another nervous laugh. "Right about what?"

He raised his eyebrows. Smirking, Jack Frost then playfully reached over and hovered his pointer finger next to her shoulder.

"You. Like. Having. Fun," he enunciated, poking her arm with each word.

Elsa scoffed, blushing and shrugging him off. "Just because I was smiling—"

"—You bet you were—"

"—It doesn't necessarily mean that I was thinking about having fun," she laughed breathily. "I—I could have been thinking about politics. Or the housing reform, for all you—"

"—Politics!?"

Elsa hesitantly looked back up, to realize that he was sticking out his lip, looking at her with puppy dog eyes. Shifting on her feet, she sighed, shaking her head.

"Okay, okay," Elsa mumbled, pretending not the notice the victorious little smile spreading across his face, "I—like having fun."

"What was that?" Jack teased, dramatically sweeping his hand up to his ear, "I—I didn't quite hear you; could you please repea—"

"—I LIKE HAVING FUN!" she shrieked.

They both burst out laughing at her sudden outburst, and Elsa blushed, grinning in spite of herself.

"There," she giggled, "Are you happy?"

"Yeah." Jack smiled. "I am."

The peaceful quiet fell over them again.

Elsa felt a tiny, sheepish smile tugging at the edge of her mouth. Without looking up, she realized that Jack was scooting towards her again, leaning onto the balcony railing.

"And I am eagerly awaiting your humble apology," he prompted.

She bit her lip.

"Alright," Elsa admitted, shifting uncomfortably on her feet and avoiding his gaze, "I—I'm sorry that I said I didn't have time for fun. Because—well, because—"

He was leaning in very close to her, grinning mischievously, his piercing blue eyes practically sparkling as he expectantly gazed into her face.

Elsa shakily pulled in her breath.

"Because you're Jack Frost," she squeaked.

He chuckled good-naturedly, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows. "Daw, come on," he laughed softly, giving her another playful nudge. "I was kinda hoping you'd say you were sorry because you were wrong."

"Well, I guess I—okay. I was," she sighed. "That—that was really rude. And I was wrong. I'm sorry I said that."

"And for the handcuffs?"

Elsa fidgeted with her fingers. "I suppose that the handcuffs were a little excessive—"

"—And for generally being an insufferable snot."

"Insufferable—!"

Her mouth falling open in shock, Elsa spun around and shoved him. Jack laughed, shrugging as she shook her head.

"How about you?" she giggled bitterly, "You broke into my room, you rogue! Where's my apology?"

"Rogue?!"

She raised her eyebrows.

He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. After a few moments, he blushed, letting out a sheepish laugh and shaking his head in embarrassment.

"Okay. I admit it," Jack mumbled, "That—yeah, that was probably a little out of line."

A pause.

"Right. Completely out of line," Jack corrected.

"And creepy."

"And unspeakably creepy, and weird, and I totally deserved the handcuffs."

Elsa considered this.

"You left out the part about biting me," she prompted.

"It was a NIP!"

They both laughed again, and Elsa reached up and pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. Smoothing it back, and then pulling her braid forward over her shoulder, she gave a little shrug.

"I'm sorry for being a snot," she said softly.

"I'm sorry for being a complete and total stalker."

Jack Frost looked back down, flicking his fingers against the railing. He pulled in a deep breath.

"That was really pretty creepy," he muttered. "Wasn't it?"

"What—waking up to find a strange man standing by my bed while I slept?" Elsa scoffed, "My, why would that be at all concerning? You think that wasn't a nightmare come true? I'm not apologizing for defending myself."

"You shouldn't apologize for that. But that's not what I—"

He bit his lip.

"You really shouldn't joke about nightmares," Jack said softly. "Nightmares are downright scary."

"Well—of course! If you aren't afraid of something, it isn't scary, so a nightmare you aren't scared of is just a dream." She shrugged. "Isn't that what makes it a nightmare in the first place?"

"What do you mean?"

"Fear."

His eyebrows lifted slightly at the statement, and he stared at her for a long moment in shock. Shifting on his feet, Jack Frost gulped, running his thumb along the edge of his pocket.

"Um…" he started, "Elsa… You said you—as a kid—you researched me. Right?"

She felt blood rushing to her face. Shrugging nervously, she gave him a quick nod.

"Yes. I mean, right. I did," she admitted.

He looked to his feet, absent-mindedly sliding his big toe across the ice. Elsa watched as he then hesitantly looked back up into her eyes.

"You didn't—you didn't by chance—research anyone—else," he said carefully. "Did you?"

Her heart leapt into her throat. Feeling herself blushing harder, Elsa let out a nervous laugh, looking away. "Not really," she admitted. "I mean—not like a hobby, or—not like you. No."

He closed his eyes, visibly heaving a sigh of relief and leaning back against the railing. Elsa laughed breathily, tucking a hair behind her ear.

"Look, I know it's strange—"

"—It's not strange at all, Snowflake," he retorted, snapping back into focus. "I just wish I'd known about you."

"Me too."

"Were you still watching for me? Hoping I'd show up?"

She shook her head. "Not recently. I figured I was too old," she sighed. "You know, because you were always with children, and—"

"—You are not too old," Jack interjected forcefully. "If I'd had any clue you'd existed, I promise you, I would have showed up before last night."

She nodded weakly.

The wave of calm washed over her again, and she closed her eyes, feeling the nervousness melting away.

"Mr. Frost…"

"Mr. Frost?!" he sputtered, jolting and whipping around to face her, "Are you serious?"

"Well—that's your name. Isn't it?"

"Wrong. Okay, well, technically right," he chuckled, crinkling his nose, "But—blech. A bit snooty, don't you think?"

A sudden wave of panic swept over her, and Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

"Then I—um," she squeaked, "Is there something else you'd rather have me call—"

"—Jack is fine."

He was grinning at her again, leaning over the railing with his shoulder right up against hers, teasingly waiting for her response.

She pulled in her breath.

"Jack."

His eyes softened. Elsa paused, carefully considering her question.

"If you didn't—know—that I existed—I mean, before last night," she corrected, "How—I mean, if it's okay if I ask—"

He raised his eyebrows.

"How did you end up here in the first place?" Elsa breathed.

"Oh," he sighed. "I… um… "

He bit his lip. After a few moments, he pulled in his breath, trying again.

"Well—okay," he explained, "I became a Guardian at the end of last March. Then, a couple nights ago, I get this summons from North, and—"

"—Whoa. Wait. Slow down," Elsa interrupted, "I still don't really understand what a Guardian is."

"Right. Well, there's—alright, there's a lot of darkness in the world," he said quietly. "And, the Man in the Moon doesn't think that kids should really have to—deal with it—until they've grown up. So, he's chosen a few of us to guard various—parts—of childhood."

"And you guard fun, right?"

He jolted, slamming his hand down onto the rail and spinning around to her. "HOW did you catch onto that so quickly?!"

Elsa laughed. "Research," she admitted.

Jack Frost scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned back over the railing and scooted an inch closer to her. "You—and your—research—!"

He gave her another playful nudge, and she blushed, biting her lip self-consciously.

"So," Elsa tried again, "You're a Guardian of Children—literally. Like, being a Guardian means that you guard children's right to have fun."

Jack grinned. "Pretty much."

"I suppose that makes sense. So, what's North?"

"It's a direction, m'lady."

There was a long, awkward pause.

"Okay, okay," Jack laughed, leaning the staff up against the icy railing, "I'll talk. North is what we call Santa Claus."

"Santa Claus is real?"

His eyes widened. "Wow," he exclaimed, "You believed in me, but not in North. I'm pretty sure that's never happened before. I'm flattered."

"Why not just call him Santa?"

"Santa? Like, Saint?" Jack scoffed. "Um—no. And you can take it from me, Snowflake," he added, raising an eyebrow and leaning close in to her face, "He is not a saint."

She giggled in spite of herself, and he grinned, shifting slightly back on the rail. After a few moments, Elsa shook her head.

"But that—that still doesn't answer my original question," she admitted. "How'd you end up in Arendelle?"

"Oh. Right." Jack Frost pulled in his breath again. "So, I'm a Guardian now. And apparently, doing the Guardian—thing—for eight and a half months was enough to make the Nice List."

"Nice List?"

He raised his eyebrows. After a few moments—putting two and two together—Elsa gasped.

"Santa Claus, again?"

"Correct."

He grinned, looking down to the crystalline railing.

"So—uh—Nice List," he started again. "Apparently, I was on it, so North—Santa Claus, I guess—he wanted to give me a Christmas present."

"And?"

Jack Frost opened his mouth to say something. After a few moments, he closed it again, letting out a breathy laugh.

"And—um," he admitted sheepishly, "So—well, here I am."

"Santa Claus' Christmas present to you was sending you to Arendelle?" Elsa exclaimed. "But that—wait, really?"

He shrugged, his cheeks flushing. "Yeah. Really."

A rush of excitement swept through her body.

"Wow," Elsa quavered excitedly, "I—that's amazing! I didn't think we were that much of a tourist destination! Arendelle's on the map, again?"

"Uh—"

"—I mean, except for the ice skating," she bubbled. "Rebuilding the outer infrastructure must have really helped! It was really hard to secure the funding and everything, but I suppose it—"

Her voice trailed off, and Elsa felt a wave of self-consciousness grasp her as she slowly looked back to the beautiful, white-haired young man standing next to her by the balcony rail. He was laughing softly under his breath, staring into her face with an expression of amused disbelief.

"Elsa…"

He shook his head. Elsa blushed, looking down and biting her lip. After a few moments of visible hesitation, the Spirit of Winter then quietly reached over on the railing, and she jumped, looking up in shock.

"North didn't me here to see Arendelle," Jack admitted softly. "He sent me here to meet you."

He placed his hand on top of hers.

Elsa froze, staring at it in shock. Feeling his gaze on her face in the silence, his ice-cold hand still on top of hers on the railing, she shifted on her feet. Staring into the sunset again, she then pulled in a long, shaky breath.

"Soooo…" Elsa laughed nervously, "This… this is what friendship is like."

He stiffened.

"Um… yeah," Jack agreed. "Friendship."

And the silence fell again.

"Have you really never had friends before?" Jack asked softly, pulling his hand back.

"No, I have, it's just—I—!"

Elsa gave her head a quick shake, pulling in her breath. "Before I left Arendelle, I didn't have any friends I wasn't directly related to. Then, I spent about a month with the Northuldra," she admitted, "Getting used to the Forest, and they're wonderful. Really. I mean, there's Honeymaren, and Ryder, and—well, they've done everything in their power to try to help me and include me, but I'm—different."

"I'll bet."

Her face fell, and the Snow Queen looked down, fidgeting with her fingers. "It feels a bit like being the Queen of Arendelle again. Most everyone I come into contact with is nice to me, but they're also a little bit too intimidated to get all that close," she sighed. "The Northuldra and I are definitely friendly, and they're lovely people. I love learning about their culture and everything, but—well, now that I'm settled, I mostly keep to myself. With the Spirits."

"You haven't gotten close to anyone?"

Elsa let out her breath, trying to decide how to proceed. She already felt terrible for suggesting that she was all THAT different, like she was above them, somehow, but—

She was that different.

"I... I think I have some friends. Like Honeymaren. Honeymaren is wonderful," Elsa said, "She's always been the main one rolling out the welcome wagon and trying to make me feel included, and everything. But I'm not sure if that's necessarily friendship, or if it's just… um..."

She paused, trying to decide how to explain it.

"Just what?" Jack prompted.

Queen Elsa pressed her lips together, fidgeting with her fingers. Gathering her courage, she pulled in a breath.

"Diplomacy?" she squeaked.

To this, his eyebrows lifted. "Diplomacy?" Jack asked. 

The Fifth Spirit bit her lip, staring over the forest towards the sunset once again. Feeling a sudden sense of longing, staring at the breathtakingly beautiful mountains and trees, she gave herself a quick shake.

"The Northuldra don't really have royalty, but—Honeymaren is basically their princess," Elsa explained. "She's Yelana's great niece—and Yelana didn't have any children, so Honeymaren is next in line, in that sense."

The Guardian's forehead crinkled. "Yelana? Who's Yelana?"

"Their leader. She's the oldest member of the tribe."

The feelings of homesickness threatening to overwhelm her, the Fifth Spirit quickly looked down the the clear, shimmering railing of the ice balcony. She reached up and placed her finger on its edge, absent-mindedly tracing a little pattern of snowflakes along its surface.

"When I first came to the Enchanted Forest, I actually tried to strike up a conversation with Yelana first," she admitted, "Because she was clearly the other queen, and I assumed it would be the proper thing to do. But she—um."

Elsa stopped talking, giving a little shrug. In spite of herself, she felt her face break into an embarrassed little smile.

"Let's just say that Yelana differed to Honeymaren rather quickly," Elsa finished.

Jack Frost snorted under his breath. "So…" he chuckled, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. "Not a diplomat? Is what you're saying?"

"No," Queen Elsa giggled. 

His smirk turned in a full-on grin, and Jack shifted on his feet, reaching up and flicking his fingers past the closest end of her snowflake design, sending another little line of frost flowering over the icy railing's surface next to hers. Her muscles relaxing instinctually, Elsa let out another soft laugh.

"I know her a lot better now. And Yelana can be a bit—abrasive," she grimaced, "Not that it's not justified, but—! Well. It's probably for the best that she has Honeymaren handle all of the diplomatic things. Now that the Forest is open, and all."

He nodded. "This Honeymaren sounds great," Jack offered, continuing to draw snowflakes next to hers along the rail as he spoke, "Right? Even if you guys just started talking as a diplomacy thing, that doesn't mean you aren't friends."

The Snow Queen paused. Her finger slowing to a stop, she then lifted it away from the design and clasped her hands together, beginning to fidget with her fingers.

"I suppose that we are. Honeymaren is wonderful," Elsa admitted. "And I really, really appreciate everything she's done to help me, because it's been a lot. It was a BIG transition for me, moving up to the Forest. But—!"

Her voice trailed off. 

The guilt seeping in through her feeling of calm, Elsa swallowed with effort, her smile fading as she looked completely away. Noticing an increased chill on her arm, she knew that Jack Frost had stopped drawing as well, leaning in closer to her.

"But what?" he pressed softly.

She swallowed again. Feeling herself cringe, Elsa gathered her courage, starting to hesitantly glance back in his direction.

"I just don't feel like Honeymaren could…" she choked. "Understand."

A silence fell over them for a long moment as Jack Frost patiently waited for her to explain, his eyebrows lifted in the unspoken question.

The Snow Queen crossed her arms tightly over her chest, hunching into them and blushing as she struggled to come up with the right words. The Guardian stayed silent, watching her.

"I know it sounds terrible," Elsa blurted quickly, "Because Honeymaren is amazing. Really. And they all are. But if I'm honest, I've just have a really hard time talking to her, after all of the initial information was exchanged. Sometimes, I feel like we're not even speaking the same language. I know that I grew up alone, and I'm still very new to this whole friendship thing, but I thought I was making progress, and—!"

Elsa let out her breath again, cutting herself off. Swallowing, she glanced to him, seeing the sparkling frost on his shirt and the gleaming, crystalline ice all around their balcony behind him.

"It's never been quite like this," she admitted, her voice going quiet, "I've never been friends with someone before, like this. Do you get what I'm trying to say?"

"I think so."

She bit her lip. Jack Frost shifted on his feet.

"You want to have a friend who can actually relate to you," he said.

"That's it."

His eyebrows lifted, and the Spirit of Winter smiled, like he was inwardly laughing at a private joke. "Well, I can relate to that."

"That's it exactly," she exclaimed, "And I—I just feel like you understand."

Elsa's breath caught as he placed his hand on top of hers once again, beginning to rub his thumb back and forth over her skin. He drew in his breath.

"I think I do," he said carefully. "Maybe—this is destined to be more than a friendship?"

Staring out over the snow-covered mountains, the Snow Queen considered this, closing her eyes and feeling his freezing hand on top of hers. Beaming, she then nodded.

"A really great friendship," Elsa agreed.

Jack Frost stopped rubbing her hand.

Carefully pulling his back, he then leaned over the railing again, staring out at the sunset. "Um—right," he said. "Sounds good."

Her heart leaping, Elsa's smile widened. She couldn't help it.

He's WONDERFUL.

"So!" Jack Frost started again, giving her a playful nudge, "You wanna actually tell me about this whole "Enchanted Forest" deal?"

Elsa's mouth fell slightly open, and she looked to him. The Spirit of Winter was smiling at her flirtatiously again, his piercing blue eyes practically sparkling.

Heh.

"It's—kind of complicated," Elsa admitted, letting out a nervous laugh. "Are you sure?"

"I've got all the time in the world."

She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again, looking down to the icy railing. A moment later, Jack Frost leaned in close to her ear.

"Come onnnnnn," he whispered, "What's such a big deal that the Queen of Arendelle gives up her crown? I mean, you've brought it up a few times, but you've never actually explained."

"Well—I didn't really give up my position. Not entirely," she said, looking up, "I'm still the Snow Queen. I just don't have to deal with all of the political business of Arendelle anymore."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Usually," she corrected. "I don't usually have to deal with all the political business of Arendelle anymore."

To this, Jack grinned. "Ah… right. Because you've been reinstated."

"Temporarily reinstated."

"And, the forest is where you'll be heading after that's done?"

"Yes," Elsa nodded. "That's where my real responsibilities lie. I mean, I keep riding up and checking on them every couple of weeks, but—well, it's much better for me to just BE there." She laughed nervously, smoothing back a lock of hair into her braid. "I'm good at playing the political game, and everything, but—I kind of hate it. And the longer I stay in the castle, with the tight schedule, and the politics, and all the rules, none of which I get to set myself—I feel like it's sucking the life out of me."

"I can understand that."

They both laughed. Then, Jack gave her another nudge. "Seriously, though. What do you do up there, in this—forest?"

"It's an Enchanted Forest," she corrected. "The elemental spirits of nature are free to interact with mankind there. It's rather small, but it's a special place. In fact, I think it's the only place of its kind. It needs to be protected."

Biting her lip, she looked back to him, watching his expression. Much to her surprise—after a moment of letting this idea sink in—the Youngest Guardian then shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay," he conceded. "Sounds cool."

Her eyes widened. "You believe me?"

"Sure."

Elsa's face melted into a smile. "That's a relief," she exhaled, feeling her muscles relaxing a bit. "The people who actually saw the tidal wave, the ones that were evacuated from Arendelle Proper—they mostly believe me. Or at least, I thought so before today. But everybody else seems convinced that this was just propaganda, or a military strategy thing to remove me from Arendelle. There's been a lot of speculation, but most people aren't willing to believe in things that sound too different from what they've personally experienced."

"Well, I do believe you."

"Really?" Elsa pressed, "It's—it sounds kind of crazy. I mean, when you think about it."

"I love crazy."

"You do?"

"You want to hear crazy?" Jack laughed, "Okay. Try this one on for size: One day, I'm ice skating with my sister, and then—well, something happened. So I black out, and then I wake up, and suddenly I'm floating in the air. And, poof! Ice powers. And I can fly!"

He gestured dramatically with the staff, spinning around as Elsa sucked in her breath. Then Jack caught it, leaning in close to her face.

"And the Man in the Moon is real, and the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and the Sandman are real, and a whole bunch of years go by, and now I have to report to the North Pole every two weeks so that Santa Claus can lecture me about honor," he finished, "So, yeah. The world is crazy sometimes. I choose to have fun with it."

Her eyes wide, Elsa laughed into her hand. "What happens if you don't show up for your lectures?"

"North sends a yeti."

Jack Frost grinned wryly, and Elsa giggled again, looking down to the ice. Beneath their feet, she could see the sunset's rich hues sparkling through the crystalline floor.

"But, either way," Jack started again with a shrug, "Norway has an secret little Enchanted Forest, with a bunch of nature spirits that can interact with people? Sure. I'll bite."

As she looked up, he winked, and Elsa felt a giddy little rush sweep through her body. Smiling uncontrollably, she smoothed a hair back into her braid again.

"Well—that's what I do up there," she said softly, her heart pounding as he looked to her again, leaning onto the icy railing. "I unite and watch over the elemental spirits, as the Enchanted Forest's bridge between magic and mankind."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "That sounds awesome."

"Thanks."

She looked down, nervously running her finger along the edge of the icy railing as she gathered her thoughts. Then, the Snow Queen drew in her breath.

"It is pretty awesome," Elsa whispered.

Jack laughed, turning around to completely face her. "I'll bet," he chuckled, "But how'd you figure out that that's what you were supposed to be doing? That's a pretty dramatic career change. Weren't you the Queen, before that?"

"I was. But up in the Enchanted Forest," she began, having recited this many times, "To make a very long story short, there was a battle between the Northuldra—the people who live up there, in the Enchanted Forest—and the Arendellians, who came to visit them for—well, for a not-great reason," she admitted, "But that's beside the point."

He grimaced. "Political?"

"Kind of."

She bit her lip, bracing herself for the further questioning. But the Guardian didn't press her on the issue. Relaxing a bit, Elsa then drew in her breath.

"A battle broke out, and that angered the spirits," she continued, "But while it was happening, our Northuldra future mother saved our Arendellian future father—her enemy—and so, nature rewarded her by giving her two daughters that would one day rebuild the bridge between magic and mankind; one with magic, and one without."

"And you're the magical one, I take it."

"Yes. To represent the Nature Spirits," she explained. "But to do that, I had to become one of them. And that's exactly what happened, when I went to Ahtohallan."

Jack's eyebrows jumped. "Become one of them?"

"Magic is real, up in the Enchanted Forest," Elsa insisted again, drawing herself up. "And that's where I belong. It was my destiny to become the Fifth Spirit of the Nature Spirits."

"Waitwaitwait. Hold up. So now, you're a Nature Spirit?"

She nodded. His eyes wide, Jack Frost pushed himself back from the railing, pushing his fingers into his hair.

He spun away from her, gripping the staff and walking a few paces back onto the ice. Then, whipping back around, he suddenly jumped back up to her, staring intensely into her eyes with rapt fascination.

"Uh—Snowflake? Are you—are you trying to tell me," he shook, his hand trembling, "That you're—immortal?"

Like he was struggling to conceal his excitement, the Spirit of Winter bit his fist, his piercing eyes watching her face with such intensity that Elsa could practically feel his gaze. Breaking off eye contact, Elsa nervously smoothed a lock of hair back into her braid, staring down at the railing.

She pulled in her breath.

"We're not sure," she admitted.

Jack Frost's smile faded.

After a moment, he gave his head a quick shake. A glimmer of hope flickering over his eyes, he then looked back to her.

"There's still a chance, though," he pleaded. "Right?"

Elsa nodded, looking up. "Yes. There's still a chance."

Looking somewhat satisfied with this answer, the Spirit of Winter let out his breath, leaning into the balcony railing. As he began to spin his staff on the ground, watching its hook turn in the air, Elsa pulled in her breath.

"Even though I'm technically a Nature Spirit now, nobody quite knows what this means for my mortality," the young queen admitted. "I don't know if I'm still aging. Honestly, I think it's too early to tell."

Jack nodded solemnly. "It can take a decade or two to figure out that sort of thing for sure."

Elsa's gaze snapped to his.

"I—uh," he corrected, clearing his throat and shifting against the railing. "I—I would imagine."

Her mouth hanging slightly open in shock, Elsa studied his face. He didn't look like he wanted to say anything more about this, but—but he had definitely just said something. Whether or not he intended to.

Were you someone BEFORE you were Jack Frost?

"So! Do you—uh," he started again, like he was trying to change the subject, "You're, like—a liaison, for the magical spirits in this forest now?"

"Basically."

She looked down to the railing, tracing her finger along its edge in contemplation. A cluster of snowflakes dancing off of her fingertips, she the sighed.

"I kind of miss some parts of being the Queen of Arendelle, but it was my destiny to become the Fifth Spirit of the Enchanted Forest," Elsa said. "There was always meant to be a fifth."

To this, the Spirit of Winter's eyebrows lifted. A strange expression sweeping over his face, he turned and gazed out over the edge of the balcony, like he was watching the sunset without really seeing it. After a few moments of silent contemplation, Jack then reached for Elsa's hand, picking it up at playing with her fingers.

"Well, then—it's nice to meet you. Miss Fifth Spirit," he chuckled, leaning in close to her face like he was telling her a secret. "I'm the Fifth Guardian."

Elsa's breath caught as he kissed the back of her hand, pressing his lips between her first and second knuckles. Before she could figure out how to respond, he grinned.

"I think we should get to know each other," he whispered.

Elsa immediately felt heat rising to her face, and she laughed, her heart leaping. As he gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it, she shifted on her feet.

"I'd like that," Elsa said breathlessly.

The Guardian smiled. Letting go of her hand, he then leaned back onto the railing, still looking at her.

"And… uh," he added, raising his eyebrows, "I'm—also—a Winter Spirit."

She laughed again. "Perhaps you could show me the ropes?"

"After what I just saw?"

Suddenly self-conscious, Elsa shrank. Fidgeting with her fingers, she watched her childhood hero deliberate on this idea, his mouth twisted to one side as he glanced to the ice balcony's railing—and then to the floor—and then to her dress—before finally looking back up into her eyes.

Jack Frost pulled in his breath.

"I think you've got the ropes down just fine," he said softly.

He gave her an encouraging smile. Elsa's heart soared.

Blushing with bashful joy, she looked down to the railing, smiling uncontrollably as she moved her hands up onto the ice, still fidgeting with her fingers. She knew she was powerful, with how much she'd grown, and who she was, and what she could do, but—hearing it was still—!

Everything.

That JACK FROST didn't think she needed mentoring was EVERYTHING .

"I mean," he shrugged, "I'm sure that I'm better than you with some stuff, but you're obviously better than me with other stuff. We can teach each other. Sound good?"

"Sounds good."

For a long moment, they stared into each other's eyes, both smiling in the peaceful silence. Biting her lip, Elsa laughed.

"Sounds freezing," she added.

"It'd better be."

He took her hand again, drawing circles on her skin with his thumb, a burst of snowflakes billowing out from between his fingers. Elsa restrained from a giggle again, her heart leaping at his touch, and the reality of the fact that—that he was even here.

All of a sudden, Elsa realized that there was a distinct, swelling sound ringing in her ears, with a smooth beat, like…

Like music.

Elsa and Jack both abruptly stood up, looking behind them. The sound was definitely coming from inside the doors.

"Am I the only one hearing this?" Jack asked.

"No, I'm hearing it too."

He snatched up the staff and leapt into the air, banging the doors open and darting inside to locate the source of the sound. Elsa, confused, followed quickly after him. As she stepped in from the icy balcony, the music grew louder, and she realized why.

Across the room, standing out as distinctly solid and dark against the ice, she saw that Jack was hovering over a small wooden table with a phonograph sitting on the top, a large brass horn attached to its side. Walking forward to in wonder, Elsa realized that there were two mugs of a steaming something sitting beside it, along with a tray of colorful cookies.

Christmas cookies.

"What's going on?" Elsa laughed nervously, "How—wh-where on earth did this all magically come from?"

"I think I've got a pretty good idea," Jack chuckled. He reached to the tray of cookies and picked up a candy cane, holding it up in the air. Elsa gasped.

"You mean that he's—?"

"Been here?" Jack laughed. "Yeah. He can do that."

"What? How?"

"Remember that magic portal thing?"

She raised her eyebrows. Looking to the tray of cookies again, Elsa's eyes fell onto the gleaming corner of a foil-edged, crimson card.

But Jack had seen it, too. Before she could pick it up, he lunged forward, snatching up the card and ripping the foil open with his teeth, anxiously flipping it open.

As his eyes fell onto the writing inside, the Spirit of Winter's pale cheeks flushed bright red.

Slowly letting out his breath, Jack Frost shook his head, closing the card and starting to stick it into his pocket. Before he could do so, Elsa suddenly leapt forward.

"Mr. Frost—"

"—Yeah. It's from North," he said quickly. "Don't worry about it."

"But you don't look—happy. You were happy, a minute ago," she pressed, "If—if you need to be somewhere, or—"

"—Oh, no. It's nothing like that. It's just—I—!"

Blushing again, Jack Frost sighed. Sticking his hand into his pocket, he sheepishly pulled out the card, handing it to Elsa in defeat.

She took it, pulling back the crimson ribbon. Removing a tiny piece of gold foil, her eyes fell onto a single verse of cursive scrawl:

.

I see you when you're sleeping

I know when you're awake

I know if you've been bad or good,

So if I get any more reports of you breaking into women's bedrooms in the middle of the night I am sending a yeti to fetch you back to see me in my office immediately and you will most certainly NOT be on the Nice List anymore, young man

For goodness sake

~N

.

Elsa looked up.

"Santa Claus—can do that?" she asked, "The whole see you when you're sleeping thing?"

"Yeah," he sighed, kneading his eyebrows. "I try not to linger on it. It's more than slightly creepy."

He shook his head, reaching out for the card. Elsa handed it to him, and he gave it another glance, scoffing and turning away.

"And he really needs to stop calling me young man," Jack grumbled, tossing it onto the table. "Because I'm not."

"Actually," she admitted, "I've always wondered how ol—"

"—SO, AH HA HA," Jack suddenly jolted, spinning around to the phonograph, "I WONDER how this thing WORKS!"

Elsa abruptly snapped her mouth shut, catching the end of the question just before it fell off the tip of her tongue. Biting her lip, she looked down, fidgeting with her fingers. That wasn't a proper thing to ask…

She squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. STUPID girl! Elsa thought miserably, Just—just because you researched him for all those years, it doesn't mean you get to be—rude. And that was rude. It's not like you're interrogating him now; he's a gentleman, and one doesn't just ASK about—oh, STUPID girl! He's probably offended now. Or angry. When you open your eyes, he'll be gone. You've messed everything up again, because of your stupid, STUPID—

"—Want to dance?"

"EEP!"

Elsa startled, leaping backwards in shock. Now suddenly standing directly in front of her, Jack Frost offered his hand.

"I—um," he tried again, "Do you—would you like to dance?"

Her mouth falling open in disbelief, Elsa stared at his hand.

After a few moments, she snapped back into focus, letting out a nervous laugh. "I—thank you," she stammered, "But I—I don't dance."

"What?" he exclaimed, "Who doesn't dance?"

"I don't."

"Oh, come on," he laughed, taking a step towards her and holding out his hand again, "It'll be fun."

Elsa bit her lip, pulling her hands into her stomach and hunching over slightly. As blood rushed to her face, she heard his voice trail off, silence falling over them on the ice.

"Wait a minute," he realized quietly, "You… you don't know how?"

She didn't respond.

"That's okay," he tried again. "I know how. I can teach you."

"But you're Jack Frost."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah?" he chuckled, "And you're the Snow Queen. Or—so I hear."

"No, no, no, that's not what I—I mean, I am, but—!"

He was grinning slyly again, visibly restraining from laughter. "What?" Jack teased. "Scared I'm going to nip your nose, again?"

"No!"

She looked to his hand.

"I—okay," Elsa squeaked. "A little. And since when does the Spirit of Winter dance?"

"Well—not since before I fell through the—I mean, I did, back when—!"

He bit his lip, looking down in embarrassment as his cheeks turned pink. Then, awkwardly kicking at the ice, Jack Frost looked back up into Elsa's eyes, smiling sheepishly.

"Okay," he admitted. "It's been a while."

He smiled hopefully, holding out his hand again.

Looking to it, Elsa felt her heart leap into her throat, her eyes lingering for a moment on the ice particles frosted over the navy fabric of his sleeves.

She reached forward, shakily placing her hand on his.

Smiling sheepishly, he curled his cold fingers around hers, looking up into her eyes through his hair. Her heart pounding, Elsa pulled in her breath as she let Jack Frost lead her out into the middle of the gleaming, crystalline floor.

"I've been watching people do this for ages," he laughed softly. "Dancing isn't hard. It's like ice. It looks complicated and fluid, but it's really just the same basic structure, over and over again."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, it's—it's like—okay," he said, backing away from her and looking to the floor, "A—snowflake. Yeah! A snowflake."

Elsa looked at him in puzzlement.

"Like—a snowflake?" she repeated.

"Well, like—you know. The steps," Jack stammered, letting out a nervous laugh as he gripped her hands a little harder. "This kind. It's groups of three, like stepping on the points of a turning snowflake. See?"

Elsa looked down to her feet as he pulled her hands forward, pulling her slowly after him on the ice.

"One, two, three, four, five, six," Jack counted. "Snowflake. See it?"

He smiled hopefully, looking up into her eyes.

Elsa stared.

"You know—like, it's following you," he tried again, blushing slightly, "Like—it's a big, slowly turning snowflake that's—okay. Here."

Jack dropped her hands, turning away and starting to run across the ice for his staff, which was still leaned up against the table. Reaching for it, he—

"—I can see it," Elsa blurted.

Jack paused.

Without picking up the staff, the Spirit of Winter slowly turned back to face her.

"Uh… you can?" he asked quietly.

"Well—yes," she realized, staring intently at the ground, "But it's—it's not a turning snowflake, at all. It's just tilted. See?"

He raised his eyebrows as he walked towards her again, and Elsa demonstrated, picking up the edge of her skirt as she moved across the ice, stepping onto the points of the invisible, shifting hexagon.

"Tilted?" he asked.

"It's a bit more complicated than the diagram most people use. I mean, if you're talking about a waltz," Elsa admitted, continuing to stare at the floor as she swept past him, "You know—a shifting hexagon, rather than fixed boxes. I like your explanation better, but I don't think it's rotating. The snowflake, I mean. See, all of the movement, if we're assuming it's a hexagon, is transverse as you—!"

Elsa squeaked, jumping as she bumped into him on the ice, and Jack laughed, grabbing her hand as she started to slip. Swallowing hard, Elsa blushed, biting the edge of her lip with embarrassment. He laughed, smiling good-naturedly.

"Wow," Jack said softly. "I thought you said you didn't know how to dance."

"I don't know much."

"How much do you know, then?"

"Well—I know that this is a waltz," Elsa admitted. "Three-four time."

"Yeeeeeup." Jack stepped up to her, scooping her arm up onto his as he reached around, putting his hand on her shoulderblade. "And the best dance for pranking people."

"Pranking people!?"

"Waltz is supposed to be romantic," he chuckled. "Right? So—uh—ruining the moment is sort of hilarious."

"How on earth do you prank someone in a dance?"

He readjusted his grip, taking her other hand and subtlety sneaking his foot onto the hem of her dress.

"Oh," he shrugged, "Like this."

STOMP.

"EEP!"

The fabric suddenly yanked down to the side, Elsa shrieked as she slipped, her body being spun around on the ice and caught just as she plummeted towards the ground.

Hesitantly opening her eyes, her heart pounding, Elsa looked up to realize that she had instinctively thrown her arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life as she stared up into the Spirit of Winter's piercing, snowflake-marked eyes.

In a perfect dip.

He nodded.

"Okay," Jack breathed. "That worked a little better than I thought it would."

She said nothing, staring up at him in shock. He pulled in his breath.

"For the record, that's not how they're usually done," Jack added.

"Good," Elsa squeaked, shakily getting onto her feet as he pulled her back up.

"So… um," he asked, "I—should we try it out, or—?"

"—Sure."

Dropping her hands, he stepped back, turning and nearly running across the ice to the phonograph. Dropping the needle onto the record, Elsa watched as he awkwardly stuck his hands into his front pocket, walking back towards her across the ice.

As the piece of music on the record started, Jack stepped up to her again, scooping her arm up onto his and placing his hand on her shoulderblade. After tossing her long capelet over his arm, the fabric sparkling in the soft blue light of the icy ballroom, Jack then reached over and picked up her other hand.

And he paused.

A strange, dreamy expression sweeping over his features, the Spirit of Winter took a long moment to gently adjust his hand on her back, his fingers shifting over her icy dress. As she stood in front of him, waiting for him to take a step, Elsa felt him give her hand a tiny squeeze, running his other fingers over the edge of her shoulderblade again, almost as if he wasn't as much adjusting his grip on her skin as he was—well. Feeling it.

Savoring it.

Jack's face flushed, and he closed his eyes, smiling sheepishly as he held her hand, standing in his place as the music swelled. Shifting on her feet, Elsa bit her lip.

"Um—Mr. Frost?" she asked quietly, "Are you alright? Is everything—"

"—Yeah."

He startled slightly, jolting back into focus with a nervous laugh and shaking his head. Then—feeling him give her hand another squeeze as he blushed—Elsa watched as Jack Frost hesitantly looked up into her eyes.

"Not—invisible," he breathed.

An look of confusion swept across her features.

After a few moments, Elsa opened her mouth to say something, but before she could do so, he let out a sharp bark of laughter, scoffing and leaning in close to her face.

"Oh—and, seriously," he chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "It's Jack."

Her arm on his, Elsa felt him give her a gentle push, leading her into the first step with the downbeat. Following, she moved back, and the young queen was suddenly sweeping across the ice, dancing with the Spirit of Winter as the swelling music reverberated through the dome.

Chapter Text

11: ALONE AND FREE

The record came to an end much too soon, the last ringing, soaring notes of the waltz resounding through the dome as the music fizzled out. Realizing it, the Snow Queen and the Spirit of Winter simultaneously looked down, staring at the crystalline floor of the private ballroom as they suddenly remembered where they were.

And who they were with.

Elsa felt him slowly move his hand off of her back, her long capelet sliding off of his arm to float softly down to the ground.

"So—um," Jack laughed nervously, "Should—should we start it over, or—?"

"Oh! I—!" Elsa pushed a hair behind her ear, blushing slightly as he started to back up, pulling her towards the phonograph. "Th-that would be lovely."

He grinned, letting go of her hand and turning away, quickly pacing towards the phonograph. Elsa followed, the capelet flowing freely over the slick floor of the icy ballroom.

"Could I ask you a question?" she blurted.

The Spirit of Winter paused, holding the record and turning back to her. "Sure," he shrugged. "What is it?"

She pulled her hands into her stomach, taking another few steps towards him as he leaned back against the icy table. Pulling in a deep breath, she hesitantly looked up into his eyes.

"The jail cell," Elsa stammered. "You broke out. Like, I didn't make it strong enough. You broke the bars."

"Once I was out of the handcuffs, I could back up and get enough momentum to do it," he said casually. "Why?"

She bit her lip.

"So, you could have escaped at any time," Elsa choked.

He raised his eyebrows.

Letting out a breathy laugh, he shook his head, glancing down to the record and tossing it gently in his hands. Then, a flirtatious hint of a smile twitching out of the side of his mouth, Jack Frost looked back up to her, peering through his eyelashes.

"Escape from you?" he chuckled, turning around. "Why on earth would I have wanted to do that?"

She froze, her mouth falling open with shock as he flipped the record over, dropping it back onto the phonograph. Before she could will her vocal cords to function and respond—

"Are we still doing a one-for-one trade?" he asked suddenly, spinning back around. "Because if we are, you owe me the answer to another question, now."

Elsa shrugged. "Ask away."

"Why didn't you know how to dance?"

The question caught her off-guard.

"Not everyone dances," she whispered.

"But you're royalty."

She looked down, nervously fidgeting with her fingers, her hands pulled into her stomach. After a few moments, Elsa sighed, sliding her right hand up onto her opposite elbow.

"Dancing like that requires—touching people," she admitted sadly, "And certain—turns—and things—basically, I couldn't wear gloves. I mean, my gloves. Thick ones."

A look of concern swept over his face. "So… your powers?"

"Right." Elsa swallowed hard, looking back up into his eyes. "Anna had lessons, but for me—well, it never really came up. My parents didn't have to explain, because I knew why I was never invited to join in. I couldn't be trusted to hold a tutor's hands. I mean—with mine."

She stared at the ground again, rolling her foot on the ice as the memories came back into her mind. The sweeping feeling of isolation washing over her, she heard Jack pull in a long breath.

"Just—just so you know," he said softly, "I don't know if my opinion counts for much, but—I think your hands are fantastic."

Elsa hesitantly looked up. Meeting his gaze again, she felt herself relax slightly, staring into the Spirit of Winter's face. He was watching her intently as she anxiously ran her fingers over the icy sleeve of her dress, his expression absolutely sincere, like he truly meant it, as the peaceful quiet fell over them again.

His eyes were so kind…

"Sooo," Jack blurted suddenly, making Elsa jump back into reality, "Um—if you've got another question for me, then—"

"—Yes!"

He raised his eyebrows.

"I—yes. Actually," Elsa stammered, "I do."

Grinning, Jack stuck his hands into his front pocket, taking a step up to her. "And?" he laughed softly.

Fighting the heat rushing to her face, Elsa drew herself up, putting aside her squealing inner fourteen-year-old's list of the few thousand Jack-Frost-related questions that she desperately wanted to ask.

"My question—um," Elsa tried again, "I—okay, since when does the Spirit of Winter know how to dance?"

"Oh."

She watched as he scoffed, looking down and running his thumb over the edge of his pocket. A grin on the edge of his mouth, he then looked back up to her, choosing his words carefully.

"I haven't just been pranking random guys for my whole existence, despite my—reputation," he said carefully, bringing a smile from Elsa, "I've been watching people. For—a while. I mean—so, it wasn't hard to see how dancing was done. And, I'm into pretty much any kind of fun, so, you know, why not?"

He shrugged, leaning back against the table.

"So, you've seen people dancing, and you wanted to try it out yourself?" Elsa asked.

He shrugged again, nodding. "It looked fun, sure."

"Why didn't you just join in?"

Jack Frost's mouth fell slightly open with shock.

After a few moments, he looked down.

"Uh…"

Letting out a nervous, breathy laugh, Jack shifted on his feet, turning around and picking up the record again. Shaking his head, he slid it back onto the phonograph, letting it clunk into place and moving the needle to the side.

"Let's just say that there were some—obstacles," he said carefully, "That would make my dancing with anyone sort of difficult."

He turned back to face her.

"But—for the record," Jack added. "It was fun."

He grinned again, pushing himself off from the table. Elsa smiled shyly, fidgeting with her fingers.

"I'm glad. I mean, I'm glad you thought so," she added quickly. "I thought it was fun, too."

"So," he ventured, "If it's my turn again—so, you couldn't dance, but you do know music?"

"I love music," Elsa laughed, snapping her head up again. "I mean, like—I can't play any instruments, I understand the basic structure and such, but I—well—um—"

Her voice trailed off, and she blushed, looking down. He took a tiny step towards her.

"You couldn't have a teacher for that, either?" he asked softly.

She shook her head. "I sort of—well, we tried, but—"

Elsa bit her lip.

"Okay," Jack chuckled. "What happened?"

She looked down, fidgeting with her fingers.

"You have to promise not to laugh," she breathed.

He took another step towards her, gazing into her face with concern. After a few moments, she pulled in a deep breath.

"ISortOfFrozeThePiano," Elsa choked.

He jolted.

"I—I d-didn't mean to!" she stammered as Jack clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes bulging as he visibly struggled not to burst out laughing, "I just—it was my first lesson, and—well, my teacher said I had to take off my gloves to play, and I did, and then I touched the keys, and it froze, and then my fingers got stuck, and—"

"—You GOT STUCK to the PIANO!?"

"Well—more in the piano," she blurted, blushing furiously as he turned around, his back shaking with suppressed snorts as he leaned onto the table, "In-between the keys—it was a C chord, and they had to get one of the royal artisans to chisel me out, and th-then my father had to bribe everyone, and—and—!"

Elsa abruptly stopped talking, cringing in embarrassment. After a few moments, Jack shook his head, slowly turning around to her again and pulling his hand away from his face, looking to her in horrified delight.

"I would have paid to see that," he choked, smiling helplessly.

Elsa blushed harder.

Pulling in a deep breath, his face red from trying to suppress his laughter, Jack looked back to her.

"Man," he chuckled. "So, no more music lessons for the princess, huh?"

"No, I sing."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I—well, you can sing with gloves on, so it wasn't a big issue. I could have lessons that were gloves-friendly, like singing, and public speaking, and horseback riding—which has actually turned out to be surprisingly useful. And I—wait, why am I telling you this?" Elsa giggled breathlessly, "I'm probably boring you to death—this probably isn't interesting to you, and I'm sure that—"

"—Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on," he scoffed, "Uh—did you just say that you're not interesting?"

"Well—not any more than anyone else," she admitted, "I mean, I suppose that everyone's interesting, if you get to know them, now that I think about it, b-but given your company, I really shouldn't be going on and on about my childhood, and—"

"—Ma'am?" he chuckled softly. "You can see me."

Elsa fell quiet. Then, looking down, she nodded.

"And you have ice powers."

She nodded again.

"And, you're a—you're—um," he said carefully, his voice trailing off.

Elsa watched as he slowly looked down, his gaze lingering for a moment on the sparkling fabric of her bodice. Squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed his hands together, touching the tips of his fingers to the bridge of his nose, Jack Frost then let out a breathy bark of laughter, looking back into her eyes.

"You're a—girl," he enunciated.

Silence.

Elsa stared at him in confusion as he suddenly shook his head, stepping up to her and grasping her shoulders.

"You are very interesting to me," Jack breathed intensely.

Elsa stumbled back a step as he let go of her shoulders, a hint of a sheepish grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. Jack Frost then spun around, snatching one of the mugs of hot chocolate and holding it out to her.

"And that includes finding out about your past. But it occurs to me," he laughed nervously, "We should drink these. They're probably already cold."

"It's never particularly bothered me," she admitted, taking it. "But thank you."

"Want to sit down?"

A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face. "Sit down?" she asked quizzically, "Where? We didn't make any chairs."

Putting his mug back down onto the table and picking up the staff, not saying a word, Jack walked a few paces to the side, flipping it the shepherd's crook his wrist and letting the hook fall onto the ground. Sweeping out a large arc in the ice, he then scoffed, flinging his staff into the air.

Creeeeak!

The icy platform shot upwards, stopping a few feet above the ground as Jack Frost walked around behind it, dragging the staff along its edge and pulling a long, gleaming backrest up out of the ice.

"Didn't make any chairs, she says," he muttered dramatically, rolling his eyes and grinning up at her, "Don't have anywhere to sit, she says…"

"But we didn't have any place to sit, a minute ago!"

"Oh, because that's a problem." He swept the staff over the frame of the icy couch, a thick blanket of snow materializing out of the air behind it and settling onto the platform and backrest. "Picky, picky, picky…"

Elsa scoffed, her cheeks flushing as she readjusted her grip on the mug. "Not all of us can have a seat by floating in the air!"

He said nothing, shaking his head with another grin. Jack then turned and leaned the staff back up against the table, picking up his mug of hot chocolate and gesturing for her to sit down. She walked over to the new ice couch and did so, turning around and sitting in the snow as politely as she could as he casually leapt back into the powder with a crunch.

"Mr. Frost…"

"Mr. Frost again?!" he laughed, "Really?"

"Oh—I'm sorry," Elsa stammered, "I just—I don't know you all that well, so—"

"—We can fix that."

Her heart skipped a beat as he crossed his ankle over his knee, glancing to the place on the couch next to him. Peering back up at her through his eyelashes, he shrugged, sitting back into the snow.

"I think that you still need to give me that color comparison sample," he said casually.

"Color comparison?"

Elsa watched as Jack raised his eyebrows, twisting around and setting the mug down on the end table. Then, looking to her flirtatiously, he grinned, pushing up his right sleeve and holding out his forearm. Elsa felt blood rushing to her face in embarrassment.

The lipstick smear.

"I—I didn't really mean to do that," she protested weakly. "I thought I was—"

"—Dreaming?"

"Um—yeah."

He raised his eyebrows again, grinning mischievously as he pulled down his sleeve. "Well," he chuckled, "If that was you, thinking you were asleep… I would love to see what it'd be like when you're completely awake."

Elsa blushed, staring at the floor as he picked up the mug again, handing it her. She shakily took it.

"I—um," she choked, "I'd—actually really appreciate it if you stopped bringing it up."

"It embarrasses you?"

"I just—it wasn't proper. At all," Elsa admitted.

"Snowflake, you were loopy."

"Believe me. I know." She bit her lip. "I'm really sorry. I mean, if I'd realized tha—"

"—Hey, hey, hey. No apology necessary," he laughed, taking a drink from his mug.

After a pause, Elsa watched as Jack Frost slowly looked back up, grinning mischievously as he peered at her through his eyelashes.

"Ma'am," he added slyly.

Elsa blushed harder.

She looked down to her mug, struggling to swallow the sharp sting of embarrassment in her throat. "I—um," she laughed nervously, "I guess I—I guess I had just always sort of supposed that I'd be completely—awake. For my first kiss."

"If it's any consolation," he shrugged, "Rest assured—if you hadn't actually grabbed me, it wouldn't have happened."

She nodded. Pulling in her breath, Elsa opened her mouth to say something, and—

"Wait. I—hold on," Jack jumped. His eyes wide, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "That—that was your first kiss?"

Elsa said nothing, but nodded. A strange expression swept over his features, and Jack's eyes softened.

"It was mine, too."

They stared at each other in silence.

A cold wave of self-consciousness hitting her, Elsa quickly broke eye contact, hunching her shoulders and staring down into the mug of hot chocolate. After a few moments, she heard the Spirit of Winter start breathily laughing in disbelief, and snapped her head up.

"Wow," he exhaled, running his finger along the edge of the mug. "First dance, first kiss, first person I've ever met besides me with ice powers—!"

Elsa felt herself blushing slightly. He shook his head, laughing again.

"This," Jack breathed, "Has been a very big day."

"Starting in the middle of the night?"

"Hey!"

His mouth fell open, and Elsa giggled in spite of herself, shrugging and readjusting her grip on the mug. Jack shook his head, raising the mug.

"Well," he chuckled, "Whatever this is—I feel like we need to make a toast, or something."

"What should we toast, then?" Elsa asked.

"No idea. What do you think?"

She looked down into her mug, drumming her fingers on its side. Giving a nervous little shrug, she pulled in a deep breath, holding it up.

"Nice to meet you?" Elsa squeaked.

He burst out laughing, and Elsa looked down into her mug, feeling herself blushing. Shaking his head, he scooted an inch closer to her in the snow.

"Here's to…" his voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes. After a long pause, he pulled in a deep breath, opening them and gazing into her face again.

"Here's to… not being alone," he said softly.

He smiled hopefully, holding up his mug.

Staring at it—without raising her own—Elsa shifted uncomfortably again, glancing to the icy floor. "There's something to be said for being alone, though," she admitted, looking back to her mug and running her finger down its side. "It's—it's free, really. I mean, sometimes being alone and free is the best option you've got."

"Yeah. Well…"

He sighed, glancing downwards.

"That kind of freedom isn't necessarily all it's cracked up to be," Jack Frost said softly.

Looking slowly up through his hair, Elsa's breath caught as his piercingly blue gaze suddenly locked onto her own. As she stared into his face, incapable of pulling herself away from his eyes, Elsa suddenly realized that his usually playful expression had gone soft with sadness. Strangely familiar, his eyes were pained, somehow, like there was a relatable agony behind them that the Snow Queen couldn't quite place, and yet… perfectly understood.

A loneliness.

Elsa nodded.

She clinked her mug against his, and Jack let out his breath, a bitter hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth as he sat back into the snow. After a moment of watching the light brown foam slowly turning on her cocoa's surface, Elsa raised the mug to her lips, hesitantly taking a drink.

She gasped.

"This—th-this is the best hot chocolate I've ever tasted!" she exclaimed, looking up to him with shock, "How—!"

His eyes suddenly lighting up again, Jack laughed, shrugging and wiping his arm across his mouth. "Oh, it's just the same old stuff," he chuckled, lifting his mug, "But, of course, it was made at the North Pole. Best hot cocoa in the world."

She nodded, raising the mug to take another drink. "Elves, right?"

"WRONG. Oh, so wrong," he snorted, "The yetis. Best cookies, best cocoa, and by far the best chocolate."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I think Arendelle could take you on in that category."

"Oh, really?"

"Oh. Really really," Elsa laughed. "In fact, there's this one specific type that I requested to be at my coronation... I thought they'd forgotten to bring it, but then I found out later that my sister Anna had—"

Elsa stopped abruptly, her eyes wide.

"ANNA!" she gasped, slamming her mug down onto the table and standing up.

Jack laughed. "Man," he chuckled, "What happened?"

"No, it's not th—I—oh, no!" Elsa cried, stumbling backwards, "Anna! My sister Anna! I was supposed to meet her right after the meeting! I completely forgot!"

Jack stood up, placing his own mug on the table and reaching for his staff. "Was it important?"

"YES, it was important!" Elsa snapped, spinning around to face him, "It's my SISTER! She'll be freaking out! She'll go into labor!"

"Alright," he sighed, "I can take you home. Come on."

Elsa's mind raced, words beginning to tumble out of her mouth before she could stop them as she followed him towards the balcony. "And if Anna goes into labor, and the baby dies, and there's suddenly no heir, and—"

"—Wait. Hold on," Jack chuckled, bending down as she put her arm around his neck, "Are you telling me you'd need to have a child?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just thinking out loud," Elsa stammered, her heart leaping into her throat as he scooped her up, "I just—I suppose I would, and then that would be even HARDER, for—wait, what's so funny?"

He didn't respond immediately, grinning. "Just let me know if you ever need help with that, m'kay?"

"Wait, what?"

Pushing back the icy door and stepping out onto the balcony, Jack Frost shook his head.

"Aw, nothin'."

With a gasp, Elsa clutched him harder as the Spirit of Winter suddenly leapt off of the balcony back towards Arendelle.

Chapter Text

12: SISTER QUEENS

So, the Snow Queen was basically fantastic. And amazing. And brilliant.

And: dang.

Lighting down onto Elsa's balcony, Jack felt the familiar pull of gravity reclaiming its grip on his body, the young queen's weight returning to his arms instead of being carried by the wind. Despite the sudden strain on his muscles, he hesitated as he held her, pausing for a long moment before reluctantly starting to set the young woman down onto her feet.

His breath catching, Jack's heart skipped a beat as the Snow Queen clutched him harder, her eyes squeezed shut as she gingerly felt the wooden planks with her foot. Reassuring herself that they were standing on solid ground, Elsa relaxed slightly, shakily standing up and taking a step back from him.

"I—um," she breathed, nervously pulling her hands down from his neck and looking up into his eyes, "Thank you. Jack."

He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Before he could try again, Elsa pulled in her breath, taking a quick step back from him and turning away.

The balcony door, still unlocked from when they'd left earlier that day, immediately swung open as she pushed it inwards, picking up the edge of her dress and running down the hallway. Silently following her into the art gallery, Jack pulled it shut behind him, already missing the feeling of Elsa's arms around him from the flight.

Reaching up and gingerly rubbing his neck, Jack slowly exhaled, his head still reeling. The Snow Queen believed in him.

The SNOW QUEEN.

And she didn't just believe in him, either—from what it sounded like, the Ice Powers Girl had been actively looking for him her whole life. And the fact that she was completely gorgeous didn't help matters in the least. Despite the fact that he was mentally kicking himself for not checking out Arendelle sooner (like, a couple decades sooner), Jack had to admit, the whole situation was pretty flattering. Somehow, it was even more flattering than the whole Guardian thing, to find out how much this young woman believed in him. Believing in him meant that she could see him, seeing him meant that she could feel him, and feeling him meant that she could touch him, which, by extension, meant that—he could touch her.

A girl.

Oh, man.

Biting his lip at the thought, Jack pulled his hand down from his neck, turning it over and looking at it in wonder.

So that's what dancing felt like.

Starting to walk down the hall in Elsa's art gallery—study—closet—okay, the whatever it was, Jack smiled sheepishly, practically feeling the Ice Powers Girl's cold hand on his arm again. And his hand on her shoulderblade. Just—just holding her, after so many decades of not being able to hold anyone, was just—wow. That was wow.

Not that Jack hadn't tried, before. In the previous March, he'd managed to convince the Tooth Fairy to try waltzing with him, and it had failed almost immediately. In an encounter that could only be described as cringingly awkward at best, dancing with Tooth had lasted for about five seconds, or rather, about four seconds longer that their attempt at a relationship had. Geez. And, speaking of bad ideas…

Jack bit his lip against the memory, sticking his free hand in his pocket and starting to walk down the hall towards the bedroom. After that little experience, he had made a firm resolution that—when it came to stuff like dancing—he would stick to his same species. Like a Nature Spirit. Like a Nature Spirit with ice powers.

Like an Elsa.

Jack smiled dumbly, his heart swelling as he ran his thumb over the edge of his pocket. What insane luck, that North had left them a phonograph. With that ice-ballroom thingy they'd built, getting a phonograph was basically an extended, pre-packaged pickup line. It was almost like North knew about the—

Wait.

Trying to dance with Tooth. North hadn't—he hadn't seen—that. Had he? He—North didn't actually know about—right?

Jack swallowed hard, feeling blood rushing to his cheeks.

Well.

That was embarrassing.

All of a sudden, kicking at the carpet, his toe hit up against something cold. His eyebrows lifting in surprise, he paused, looking down, and what the blizzards…?

Jack Frost crouched down to the carpet, reaching forward and gingerly picking up the delicate, icy high heel. Yep—definitely ice. As he turned it over in his hands, his eyes widening, the moonlight from the window caught the crystalline edges of it, sparkling and gleaming. Throughout the ice, embedded into the sole and top of the shoe itself, the Spirit of Winter could see that there were dozens, if not hundreds, of tiny snow flurries, delicate swirls of frost spiraling throughout the entire piece.

Holy mother of snowflakes.

"Yes. I'll be in here," Elsa was saying in her bedroom, making him jump and look back up. "Yes, please find Queen Anna at once!"

Straightening up and still holding the shoe, Jack walked forward, passing the desk and finally pausing in front of the doorframe, looking into the next room. Having kicked off her other high heel, which was now lying on the carpet over by her bed, the Fifth Spirit of the Enchanted Forest was frantically running back and forth, throwing her bedroom back into its previous state. The shattered bars of the jail cell were gone, as well as the ice-blasted statue of the Councilman, as she sprinted for the chair that was pulled out into the middle of the room. Jack watched as she shoved the chair towards the wall, raising his eyebrows as he involuntarily glanced down to the sparkling, icy fabric shifting over Elsa's hips.

Yeeeeeup.

That was definitely a girl.

Definitely, certainly, undoubtedly, and without any question, a specimen of the female persuasio—

"—So, that's okay?"

GAUGH!

The Ice Powers Girl was suddenly standing right in front of him, expectantly gazing into his face. Jack snapped back into focus.

"Um—sorry?" he blurted.

"I was asking if you wouldn't mind staying in here for a couple minutes," Elsa said quickly. "My sister will be here any moment, and she'll want to speak to m—"

Elsa's voice trailed off as she looked down, suddenly noticing the shoe in his hand.

His mouth falling slightly open, Jack looked to the high heel. Drawing himself up and clearing his throat, he then looked back into her eyes.

"I found your shoe," he informed her.

Elsa stared.

After a few moments, Jack shifted on his feet, gently tossing it to himself and then holding it out to her.

"I'm pretty sure it won't fit me," Jack added.

"Oh! Um…"

Elsa blushed, snatching the heel out of his hand and backing up into her room again. She nervously looked back towards her bedroom door, and then to the shoe, awkwardly whapping its sole against her opposite palm a few times before meeting his eyes again.

"I—my sister—"

"—I can meet her, right?" Jack asked.

"Sure. But—"

There was a knock at the bedroom door. Elsa's eyes bulged, and she jolted, spinning around. The knock came again, and Jack watched as the Ice Powers Girl stumbled back a step, shakily placing the crystalline high heel on her dresser.

"She's here!" Elsa gasped, "I—I'm sorry, I have to—I have to go."

Jack raised his eyebrows, moving out of the way as Elsa lunged into the art gallery for the door. Missing the handle, and then catching it, she collapsed onto the brass knob, blushing and looking to him.

"I," she squeaked, "Um—would you please excuse me for a moment?"

She shot him a nervous smile, starting to pull the door shut as she backed into her bedroom. Jack leapt forward, catching it with the hook of his staff.

"But you said I could meet your sister," he protested.

"Yes, but—I mean—okay, can I explain later?" she choked, moving his staff to the side and starting to pull the door closed between them again.

"But Elsa, I—"

"Can we just—"

"Uh—"

"Maybe—"

"I—"

"—Please stay here."

"Wait, what?"

Click.

And Jack Frost suddenly found himself staring at the door between Elsa's bedroom and art gallery.

He blinked.

Right.

Crouching down in front of the door, Jack peered into the keyhole. A tiny grin twitching out of the side of his mouth, he shook his head, pulling in a deep breath.

You and these PITIFUL old-fashioned locks, Snowflake.

.

.

Creeeeeak!

Light suddenly poured in from the hallway, and Elsa startled, spinning around and sucking her breath in through her teeth as she collapsed against the door handle.

"AAAAAAAAAH-Nnaaaaaaa!" she squealed, the exclamation a near-frenzied shriek as her voice slid into a deafeningly high register, "AH HA HA, eh, Hiiiii! I—"

"—Have been looking ALL OVER for you!"

Feeling heat rushing to her face, Elsa let out a nervous laugh as she shakily pushed herself away from the brass knob, glancing back towards it. Queen Anna lurched forward into the room, and Elsa jumped, instinctively leaping forward.

"Are you alright?" Elsa gasped.

Anna laughed good-naturedly, rocking back unsteadily onto her heels and patting her enormously pregnant stomach. "I'm fine. Now that you've magically materialized back in the castle?"

"And I'm so sorry about that," Elsa choked, "I—I completely forgot, and—"

"—Elsa, it's okay," she giggled. "I just want to know where you've been, you stinker!"

Elsa's mouth fell slightly open, and she glanced back towards the art gallery.

Deciding against it, she quickly shook her head. "I just—uh," Elsa lied, staring at the floor, "I went for a walk."

Queen Anna raised her eyebrows, and Elsa felt her heart leap into her throat. Fighting back the heat rushing to her face and trying to appear as casual as possible, Elsa gave her sister the best rendition of the Queen Face that she could muster.

"A… walk," Anna repeated glassily.

"Yes. A walk. Can I get you a chair?"

"You were gone for five hours!"

Elsa bit her lip.

"It—was a long walk," she choked.

Elsa quickly turned away, struggling to keep her breathing even as she paced to the chair, reaching for it and starting to drag it back as if it hadn't been in the center of the room mere moments before. Stepping back from it, she forced a smile again as Anna's eyes narrowed, studying her face.

The problem with the Queen Face: Elsa's sister was now also a queen.

"You know…" Anna started carefully, clearly recognizing the expression which she herself employed on a regular basis, "I'd assumed that you just went back to check on the Spirits. But if that's not where you were…?"

"The Spirits! Yes. That's—um, that's definitely where I was."

"Is there a reason that you didn't just send Gale, then? To tell me?"

Elsa gulped. "I—uh," she whispered, "I—should have done that. Right. I'm sorry."

Queen Anna's eyes narrowed a fraction more.

After a few moments, realizing that she wasn't going to get any more information out of her sister, Anna sighed, smiling weakly as Elsa gestured to the seat. As she stumbled over to the chair and sat down, Elsa let out her breath, turning and walking over to the dresser and picking up a small dish. "Chocolate?" she offered.

"Oh, yes, please!"

Elsa's heart swelled, seeing her little sister's face light up as she snatched a truffle out of the dish, popping it into her mouth. Taking the dish back and replacing it on her dresser—Elsa mostly kept it there for Anna—she heard her sister clear her throat.

"So," Anna started again, settling back into the chair and changing the subject as Elsa walked back over to her, swirling another chair into existence across from it, "How'd it go?"

"How'd what go?"

"Oh, come on. Your meeting?" Queen Anna prodded, "You're only been getting this reform ready since forever! You were able to get the housing project approved, right?"

Elsa froze.

"Oh. Um…"

She shakily sat down in the icy chair, her capelet sweeping out around its base. Looking down and fidgeting with her fingers, she pulled in a deep breath.

"It—um," Elsa choked softly, "It—it wasn't about the housing project."

Anna's eyes widened. Quickly closing her own and fighting against the color rising to her face, Elsa bit down hard on her lip again as she felt the air around her suddenly getting colder.

Conceal!

"What happened?" Anna breathed.

"Anna, it's fine—"

"—No," she prodded, "You're not. Elsa, what's going on?"

"Nothing is!"

"Please don't shut me out."

Elsa abruptly sucked in her breath, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. Reluctantly opening her eyes, she looked up, realizing why her sister was staring at her with such intent concern.

It was snowing.

Elsa's heart sank, and she pressed her lips together, seeing the delicate flurries materializing out of the air around her. No point in trying to hide it now.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Elsa pulled in a long, deep breath.

"TheCouncilWantsAKing," she blurted.

A look of confusion swept over Anna's face. "Wait, what?"

"A king." Elsa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "The Council. They want me to get married. They want a king."

"A king?" Anna repeated, "But they've got you! What do they need a king for? I mean, even if Kristoff wanted to take over, he still thinks you should be the one in charge during my leave."

"I—well, I mean they didn't actually say it that way," Elsa stammered, blinking frantically as her eyes started stinging, "B-But they—they want to get rid of me. Basically. They said that I need to be seeing suitors, and s-something about p-producing an heir, and—"

"—Producing an heir!?" Anna sputtered.

"Yeah."

Elsa nodded weakly, her face pale as she looked down, staring determinately into her lap. Her sister's expression hardened.

"And this heir doesn't count… because why?" the pregnant queen gritted, pointing to her stomach.

The Fifth Spirit swallowed hard, looking up into her sister's eyes as the reasons—the real reasons—swirled in her mind.

Because you married a commoner, and they think this makes you a failure.

Because they don't think Kristoff, nor his children, are worthy of the crown.

Because they think that your entire job as queen was to make a politically-savvy match, be a pretty figurehead, and let them keep running the kingdom, because that's apparently all we queens are good for.

Pulling in her breath, Elsa closed her eyes, trying to figure out how to spare her sister from the worst of the truth.

"They don't think you're coming back," Elsa decided, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "They just believe that your leave is indefinite. And they don't believe that I'm the Fifth Spirit, either—I'm pretty sure that they've decided I'm crazy. So, they want me to locate and marry myself a replacement, so that I can be tucked away and never bother them or go to the Forest again."

As she spoke, Elsa watched as Anna's expression turned from anger—to fury—to shock—and finally, to sadness, as the last phrase fell out of Elsa's mouth. Her facial features softening into empathy, Queen Anna shifted in her seat.

"Oh, Elsa…" she breathed. "I am so sorry."

The flurries were slowing again, the feeling of pressure releasing. Letting out her breath, Elsa sighed.

"They've already invited the suitors," Elsa choked. "The first comes tomorrow, apparently."

Anna jolted, her eyes bulging in horror as Elsa miserably looked back down, beginning to fidget with her fingers again.

"Already invited them?!" Anna gasped. "Without your permission?"

Elsa nodded.

"Oh!"

Shifting on the chair, Queen Anna pressed her lips together in fury. "Well, I just—I—oh!" she gritted, "How—how dare those—!"

"—Anna, don't stress yourself out," Elsa begged, "Think of the baby—"

"—The baby is fine. I just wanna go punch whoever thought of that one, that—that—!"

The pregnant young queen paused, trying to decide on an insult.

"I believe that the phrase that you're looking for," laughed a deep voice, "Is, chauvinistic pig."

Elsa jolted, snapping her head up and sharply sucking in her breath. Jack Frost was casually leaning against the back of Anna's chair, his staff resting on his shoulder.

"That—jerk," Anna said resolutely.

Jack shrugged. "I still like mine better," he chuckled, grinning up into Elsa's eyes. "So, this is your sister?"

Elsa was speechless, her mouth hanging open in shock.

Seeing her expression, Anna twisted around, looking blankly through the space behind her chair. "What? What is it?" she asked, staring straight through where Jack was standing, "What are you staring at?"

Elsa jumped, jolting back into focus. "Oh! I—it just—yes. Jerk," she said coldly, glaring directly into his eyes. "I completely agree with you. He is definitely a JERK."

Jack grinned.

"Is it my hair?" Anna whimpered, anxiously reaching up to the royal twist beneath her crown, "Kristoff says it looks exactly the same as it always has, but I think it's getting frizzier, and—"

"—Your hair is beautiful," Elsa said quickly, "I—!"

"You really need to update the locks around here, Snowflake," Jack chuckled. "I mean, at least hire a yeti, or something. It's like you'll let about just any old riff-raff into this place."

"Anna, can you please excuse me for a minute?" Elsa choked, rising from the chair.

Before Queen Anna could respond, Elsa was briskly pacing across the bedroom to her art gallery door. Jack followed, silently joining her as she pulled it shut behind them with a click, checking the brass knob to make sure it was in place.

Turning and pacing a few feet down into the hallway and away from the door, Elsa bit her lip. Passing the desk, with Jack Frost following closely behind, she pulled in her breath, and—

"What—are you doing!?" Elsa hissed, whirling around to face him, "I told you to stay here!"

"No, you asked me to stay here. And I never said I would."

"But—"

"—You said I could meet your sister!" he protested.

"Nooooo, I didn't mean right now!" Elsa moaned. "Everybody thinks I'm going crazy already! Do you have any idea how the nobility has treated me since the last reform? Why are you so desperate to meet her, anyway?"

He let out a bitter laugh. "Isn't she your closest kin?"

"Well—yes!"

"And, I'm interested in you?"

A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face.

Shifting his fingers on the staff and taking a step towards her, Jack scoffed softly, shaking his head. "Look," he admitted, "I know you've never really—done this—before. And neither have I, but I think I kind of need her permission before—"

"—Wait," Elsa interrupted, "You need my family's permission before you can be friends with me?"

Jack's mouth fell open.

After a few moments, he closed it, clearing his throat and pulling in a deep breath.

"Um—right," he choked carefully. "I would like Queen Anna's permission to pursue a—friendship—with you."

"But—!"

Elsa crossed her arms over her chest, taking a step back. She hadn't really realized that friendship required that, but—well—well, she still felt pretty new to the whole "friendship" thing, so—

"Okay. I'll introduce you," she sighed in defeat. "I just don't see why she even has to know you're here. Yet, at least."

"What?"

"Why can't this just be a secret?"

"Oh, I dunno," he snapped, "Maybe because I don't like feeling like a total creeper?"

"How are you even so sure that she'll believe?"

"If you introduce me, she will."

"But—"

"—Because I can usually tell."

"You've known me one day, Frost—"

"—Elsa?" a voice quavered.

They spun around. Queen Anna was standing in the doorway, staring.

"Um…" Anna's voice trailed off. "Who… are you talking to?"

Elsa's face went pale.

"Talking? T-Talking to?" she blurted nervously, letting out a frenzied giggle, "AH, ha ha ha, just—myself! Just—talking to myself! Yep!"

"On second thought," Jack drawled, "Don't introduce me. You'll sound crazy. Because this definitely does not sound—OW!"

Recoiling from Elsa's sharp kick, the Spirit of Winter jumped onto his left foot, clutching his ankle in his hands. Although he was still apparently invisible, Elsa strategically stepped in front of him, fighting the blood rushing to her cheeks as the pregnant queen slowly started to walk towards her into the gallery.

"Elsa," she said quietly, "I know you're hiding something from me."

"Yep, and he's standing RIGHT here—!" Jack leapt out of the way as Elsa swung out her foot to kick him again.

"Hiding? Wha-What would I be hiding?" Elsa stammered.

"Your art project from earlier today is gone," Anna tried again, creeping cautiously towards her sister, "And then you disappeared for five hours. And now, you're acting…" she stopped, wincing. "Um… weird?"

Biting her lip again, Elsa drew herself up.

"Anna. I'm fine," Elsa choked, struggling to control her voice. "I'm just a little stressed, that's all. I'm stressed about the Council, but I can assure you, apart from that, everything is perfectly normaAAAAUGH!"

Something hard suddenly slammed into the back of her knees, and Elsa shrieked as she reeled backwards, being caught just before she hit and shooting upwards towards the vaulted ceiling. Realizing that she was suddenly hovering fifteen feet over her sister's head, Elsa squeaked, throwing her arms around his neck in terror.

"You were worried that she wouldn't believe, right?" Jack asked eagerly, gently tossed her in his arms. "This ought to convince her that I exist, don't you think?"

"ELSAAAAAAAAAAA!" Anna screamed.

"Jack! ME!" Elsa stammered, her eyes bulging with fear as she stared desperately into his face, "Floor! NOW!"

"Will you just tell her already?"

The pregnant queen was jumping up and down below them, wringing her hands with terror. "WHAT ARE YOU NOT TELLING ME?! HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT IN THE AIR?! THAT'S NOT HOW GALE WORKS; THAT LOOKS NOTHING LIKE HOW GALE—"

"ANNATHISISJACKFROST!" Elsa blurted.

Queen Anna abruptly stopped, gasping for breath and staring, dumbfounded, at her sister, who seemed to be floating independently in the air far above her head. A look of genuine confusion swept over her features.

"Wait… what?" Anna squeaked.

Elsa took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Jack," she choked, "This is my sister, Queen Anna of Arendelle. Um, Anna…" She took another breath, clinging him tighter as he readjusted his grip on the staff, "This… this is Jack Frost."

"Jack Fr…?" Anna's eyes suddenly widened, and she stumbled backwards a step in shock as he slowly floated towards the ground, placing Elsa back on her feet.

"Mother of North," Jack breathed, "That didn't scare you so much last time, Snowflake."

"You didn't just grab me last time!"

"J-Jack… Jack Frost?" Anna gasped as they turned back to face her.

Jack smiled sheepishly, shrugging and tossing his staff into his other hand. Anna's jaw dropped, her eyes wide, as she stared blankly into space at him.

"Gorgeous," she breathed.

Jack grinned, raising his eyebrows at Elsa. She blushed, and he turned back to the pregnant young queen.

"Elsa was a bit reluctant to have me meet you," he explained, "But I wanted to have your permission before trying to pursue—uh—"

His voice trailed off. After a moment of hesitation, Jack Frost sucked in his breath.

"Uh—a friendship," he finished carefully. "I would like permission to pursue a—friendship—with your sister. Your majesty."

He did a quick bow and then looked up pleadingly, staring at her through his eyelashes. Biting his lip, his eyes slid in Elsa's direction, and then back into Anna's.

"Per-permission…?" Queen Anna asked dazedly. Then, her eyes snapping back into focus, she gasped. "YES! Yes, of course you have my permission!"

Jack let out his breath as the redhead wheeled around to her sister, who was now gripping the edge of the desk so hard that her knuckles were turning white.

Conceal!

"ElsaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA…?" Anna whined excitedly.

"Anna," she choked, gripping the desk harder, "Calm down—"

"—Are you really Jack Frost?" Queen Anna bubbled, spinning back around to Jack, "Can you—like—wait, are you making it snow?!" she gasped, "ELSA! Look! He's making it snow!"

Elsa snapped her head up, looking back to them. Glancing upwards into the air, she realized that her sister was right—it was, indeed, snowing.

Around her.

Elsa felt blood rising to her face.

Grinning, Jack let the staff fall onto his shoulder, shaking his head. "Sorry, your highness," he chuckled under his breath, "But I—uh, I can't take credit for this one."

Slowly pulling in her breath, Elsa turned all the way around to face them, shakily pushing herself off the desk.

"Anna," she squeaked carefully, "Can we… um…?"

Without saying another word, the Fifth Spirit folded her arms over her chest, hunching her shoulders forward and turning to walk towards the bedroom, gesturing for her sister to follow. Lurching through the door in front of her, Elsa bit her lip, pulling it shut and stepping into her bedroom as the two queens left the Spirit of Winter standing alone in the art gallery behind them.

Chapter Text

13: ICE ALLIANCE

As soon as the sisters had disappeared into Elsa's bedroom again, the door to the art gallery swinging shut with a creak, Jack carefully walked towards it, eying the knob.

Click.

It was closed.

Leaping into the air, the Youngest Guardian swept past the shelves of ice statues in a gust of cold wind, lighting down silently by the desk and holding his breath. Placing his staff on the carpet beside him, Jack Frost crouched down, pressing his ear to the door just in time to hear the slow, squealing crescendo of Queen Anna's ear-piercing whine of delight.

"EeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEE—"

"Anna," Elsa's voice begged, "Whatever you're thinking—stop thinking it—"

"—EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—!"

"ANNA—"

"—JACK?! FROST?!"Anna shrieked, making him startle backwards from the keyhole, "That's your secret! You've been holding out on me because you've been seeing JACK FROST?!"

"Anna—"

"—How long have you been together?" she bubbled, "DETAILS! I want details. Tell me everything!"

"There's nothing to tell."

Carefully getting up onto his feet again, Jack glanced down to his right forearm, remembering the lipstick mark that was still smeared across his skin.

I… disagree.

The girls were talking again. Jack jumped, shaking his head and pressing his ear to the keyhole, hearing the pregnant queen let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Elsa, I just wish you'd consider it."

"I did consider it," Elsa retorted. "I considered it, and then I rejected it, because it's preposterous and illogical and I do not need a man."

"I never said you needed one."

"But—"

"—But it's sure nice to haaaaave oooooooone," Anna's voice sang.

Jack restrained from a snort.

"I'll pass."

"But the benefits!"

"I don't want to hear about it, Anna."

Jack grinned, readjusting himself by the door.

"And besides," Elsa started again, "Weren't you just saying how I don't need to be seeing suitors right now?"

"Well, that was before one of your suitors was Jack Frost—"

"Jack isn't a suitor!"

"Oh, he's just Jack to you, now?"

There was a long, painful moment of silence.

"Jack isn't a suitor," Elsa squeaked.

He could practically feel her embarrassed blushing through the door. Jack felt his heart swell, and he grinned again, shaking his head.

Dawwwwww…

"So, that's where you've been. The walk," Anna exclaimed. "You weren't going for a walk at all! You were with Jack Frost!"

"Alright. You've got me," Elsa sighed. "I was."

"And you were in here, the whole time? Why weren't you answering the door? I knocked—a lot of times, actually, and—OHMYGOSH; PLEASE TELL ME YOU GUYS WEREN'T—"

"—NO."

Jack clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes bulging. Leaning up against the door, he pulled in a long breath, struggling to keep his breathing even.

Right to the point, then!

"We left right after the Council," Elsa explained frantically, "I—I was really upset, so he took me out to the mountains, and—"

"—Jack Frost took you out on a date."

There was another long pause.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee," the squealing started again, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—!"

"ANNA—"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEElsaYouFinallyFinallyFINALLYWentOnADAAAAAAAAATE!" Anna shrieked with joy.

"I've been on dates!"

"With whom?"

"Well, with you!"

"That is not the same."

"Why not?" Elsa protested, "You're my sister! Sister Dates are perfectly valid for—"

"—I meant a date with a GUY."

"He's not a guy."

Jack jolted.

What?

On the other side of the door, the floorboards under the carpet creaked, like Elsa was shifting on her feet. Then, he heard her pull in a long breath.

"He's not just a guy, Anna. I mean, he—he's Jack. Frost," Elsa breathed. "This isn't some random prince, we're talking about. This is the Spirit of Winter."

Crouching by the door, Jack let out his breath at the clarification.

Anna's voice was chuckling again.

"Okay. Fair point," she laughed. "Your first date wasn't with a guy. It was with THE guy."

"Anna, what on earth are you talking about?"

"Uh…"

Her voice trailed off, and Queen Anna was whispering something he couldn't quite make out. Pressing his ear harder against the keyhole, Jack listened intently, straining to hear.

"Anna," Elsa groaned, "Just because he's a boy with ice powers—"

"—And gorgeous—"

"—It doesn't automatically mean that we're in love," she insisted. "I mean—even if I was good enough for him, that's not how it works. And, besides. We've only known each other for one day."

Jack's heart sank, and he bit his lip, looking down and readjusting himself by the door. Oooooh, she was definitely 'good enough.' THAT was for sure.

She did have a point about the one day thing, though…

"Soooo," Anna's voice prodded, "What does the Spirit of Winter do with the Snow Queen, on a date?"

Elsa let out a nervous laugh. "It wasn't—a date," she scoffed, the floorboards under the carpet creaking as she walked across the room, "I mean—it's not what you think, Anna. I swear. Jack and I are friends. We just—he just took me out, and we had some fun. Like, a bit of an ice-off, and—and we built some—stuff—"

"—You built. Another. ICE PALACE?!" Anna gasped.

"I—"

"—MARRY HIM."

Jack clapped his hand over his mouth again, trying to suppress another snort.

"Anna," Elsa begged, "I—"

"—You like him."

There was a silence.

"Oooooooooo!" Queen Anna squealed, "I'm right, aren't I? You actually LIKE a BOY!"

"Anna, I just—"

"—Oh, HO, you've got it bad!"

"What do you mean?"

"You're blushing!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Ooooooh, YesYouAreYesYouAreYesYouAAAARE!" Anna shrieked, "I KNEW IT! YOU—"

"—Anna, keep it down!" Elsa choked, "Someone's going to hear you!"

"And, what? Find out that the independent, all-powerful Fifth Spirit of the Enchanted Forest can have a crush? Oh, heaven forbid."

"It is not a crush!" she protested desperately, "I just—I just admire him as a friend, alright? And if he happens to be intelligent and charming as well—"

"—You have a CRUSH, dear sissy," Anna chuckled, "It's not the end of the world. Believe me. And besides, who's going to hear, anyway? The only people around besides you and me are a handful of guards that couldn't care less about what we're doing in here, and an impossibly gorgeous snow sprite in the next room!"

"In the next—!"

Elsa gasped, abruptly cutting herself off, and Jack pressed his ear harder into the keyhole, hearing a long pause.

Anna started giggling uncontrollably again.

"Okay," she teased, "I'll leave you two alone…"

"It's not like that," Elsa's voice retorted with a nervous laugh, "And besides, you and I have other affairs of the kingdom to worry about. See you in the morning."

"Yes, yes, fine. Royalty stuff." Queen Anna's voice was growing fainter as she walked away from where Jack was listening. There was a muffled squeal of a set of hinges, and he knew that the door between Elsa's bedroom and the hallway was slowly swinging open. "Love you!"

"I love you too, Anna."

The door beyond the keyhole shut with a sharp clunk, and Jack could hear a faint creaking of floorboards again from the other side of the door.

Elsa was walking back towards the gallery.

His heart leaping into his throat, Jack lurched away from the keyhole and leapt into the air. A flurry of frantic snowflakes materializing out of the air behind him, the Spirit of Winter then swooped down to the other end of the gallery, laying down on his staff as if he'd been there the whole time and hovering in the air just as Elsa opened the door.

.

.

Silently pushing the door shut behind her, Elsa bit her lip, turning and seeing a faint blue glowing at the end of the hallway.

"Mr. Frost?" she quavered, stepping into the art gallery. "Are you still—"

"—IT'S JACK!"

Before Elsa could react, there was a gust of frigid air, and the Spirit of Winter was suddenly dropping down onto the carpet next to her. She jolted, jumping to the side with a squeak.

Jack Frost laughed, tossing his staff into his other hand. "Seriously, Snowflake?" he chuckled. "It's Jack. NOBODY calls me Mr. Frost."

Nobody calls me Snowflake, Elsa thought.

"I'm sorry," she apologized frantically, "It's just—I—I still kind of can't believe it's you. And I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long—I—I know you're probably busy, and so I—well, it's been really nice to meet you, and—"

"—Wait," Jack scoffed, "You think I'm leaving?"

The statement caught her completely off guard.

"Well—I—um," Elsa squeaked, "You're not?"

"Not while you're still so high-strung."

She looked at him with suspicion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're a worrywart, and that's a problem," Jack retorted, poking the air in her direction. "And, I'm not going anywhere until you learn how to have fun."

"But today was fun!" she protested. "It's just that now I have to get back to reality, and there's a lot of work left to be—"

"—Okay, that statement? Right there? My point."

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat as he let his staff fall back onto his shoulder, sticking his opposite hand into the pocket on his shirt as he stepped in front of her.

"I don't care how important or serious or hard your job is," he said fervently, "Even if you are just trying to cram as much as you can into a few months for your sister. As the professional fun-haver here, I can promise you: If you don't take a break every once in a while, you'll be losing your life force out your ears."

"I can't just take breaks, Jack," she sighed. "Not with The Council. If I turn my back for two seconds, they'll rip apart our work and take over the kingdom again."

He paused, taking a tiny step back.

"So… for you to have fun," Jack Frost muttered thoughtfully, flipping his staff over his wrist and sitting down on it in the air, "We need to get your council to stop—being awful."

"Good luck!" Elsa laughed bitterly. "Every time I try to do anything, they're right there to stop me."

"Can't you just fire them?"

"It's not that simple." Elsa shook her head, folding her arms over her chest and looking down to her feet. "There was way too much political heat wrapped up in when my father got them appointed. I can't dismiss them."

Jack smirked, cocking an eyebrow at her teasingly. "Now, how do you know that?"

"I tried."

"Oh."

His face fell, and he bit his lip, looking down again. Blowing a tuft of white hair out of his face, Jack shook his head in frustration.

"I'll tell you one thing, Snowflake," he grumbled. "It's real annoying that I can't just tell 'em off."

"Thank you, Jack," Elsa said softly, "I mean—I'm sorry, and I'm sure it is frustrating for you, but—well, that means a lot to me. That you would."

"Yeah. I would," Jack gritted, "I mean, they're taking away your—fun. That's just WRONG. If only I wasn't invisib—"

Elsa watched in confusion as Jack Frost's eyes widened, his mouth falling slightly open, as if he'd suddenly been struck with pure inspiration.

"Wait," he said carefully, looking up to her, "So they—your councilguys—they could still resign. Right?"

Elsa bit her lip. "I suppose so," she sighed, "But that's never going to hap—"

"—And a lot of folks around here are superstitious," he continued, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Aren't they?"

"I suppose. Why?"

Elsa jumped as he suddenly leapt up to her, leaning into her ear.

"One willing and able Invisible Phantom at. Your. SERVICE," he whispered intensely.

His white hair falling forward into his face, Jack Frost stepped back and swept into a deep, dramatic bow in front of her, looking up and grinning mischievously. Realizing what he was saying, Elsa's eyes bulged.

"Are you—are you saying that you want to—prank them into resigning!?" she gasped.

"My Queen. I would never suggest such a thing." He straightened up, shrugging with a hint of a smirk twitching out of the side of his mouth. "But—if something was there to help motivate the old morons to start mysteriously deciding to turn in their resignation papers, one by one—"

"—That's just—oh!"

He shrugged again, grinning and backing away with his hands in the air. Her mouth still hanging open, the Snow Queen quickly shook her head.

"But how could I possibly repay you for that?" she breathed.

"I might have a few ideas." Jack nodded, taking a step towards her and gazing into her eyes intensely. "But, for now: it would be an honor."

She stared at him in shock. "You really think we could do this?"

"Belief is a powerful thing, Snowflake," Jack said. "And, besides. We're not going to hurt them, or anything. We're just going to—mess with their heads a bit. Have a little fun with them, you know?"

"But like this? Is this—is this fair?"

"Fair?" Jack scoffed, "All of them, against one of you, is what doesn't sound fair, to me."

"With Anna, it's technically two of us."

"Oh, well, in that case... great."

She reluctantly acknowledged it, biting her lip and nodding. They were trying to mess with her head. And, given that she was supposed to be the one running the kingdom right now (just like how she'd been running it completely alone back before Anna's coronation), the whole idea that she was having to do so at such high personal costs was something of an outrage…

"Do we have a deal?" he chuckled.

Jack was holding out his hand, looking to her expectantly. The Snow Queen hesitated, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Jack," she stammered, "I—I appreciate the offer, but I really—"

"—Your first suitor is coming tomorrow, right?"

Elsa's eyes narrowed.

Setting her jaw, she grabbed his hand, shaking it vigorously.

"Deal," Elsa gritted.

Jack's eyes widened as she let go of his hand, taking a step back. "Uh," he said quietly, "Snowflake? Am I detecting a little—uh, a little anger at—"

"—THEY were all MANIPULATING ME for my ENTIRE REIGN!" Elsa stammered, "And now, they're messing with Anna, and I—yeah! I should fight back! The fact that I even have to BE here, and then the suitors, and—this time, they've gone too far!"

He raised his eyebrows, a sly little grin beginning to cross his face again. "Wow," Jack chuckled. "So, the Snow Queen does have a little fire in her, after all."

"Frost, you have no idea."

They both laughed, and Elsa felt a little color rising to her cheeks. After a few moments, a look of wonder swept over her features.

"So—this is less of a friendship—and—more of a team," she realized. "Like—like we're an alliance, or something."

He snorted. "Allies in a war against your idiot Council?"

"I wasn't going to phrase it that way," she admitted, "But, yes. I suppose that sounds about right."

"Well—if we're making this all official, I feel like we need a name, or something. How are these things usually named?"

"Alliances? They aren't. I mean, not when they're formed," the Fifth Spirit explained, remembering a lifetime of royal education. "Usually, when groups are named, it's just a slow thing, over time. At some point, somebody starts referring to the group by a nickname that represents what holds it together, and if it sticks—well, that's that."

"A nickname that represents what holds it together, huh?" Jack mused, leaning back against the desk and looking upwards in thought.

"Well—yes. But you can pick any name you like."

"Is that so?" Jack chuckled. "Why me?"

"Because—um—"

He raised an eyebrow, looking at her again teasingly with a hint of a flirty smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

"BecauseYou'reJackFrost?" she squeaked.

He laughed, pushing himself away from the desk and walking towards her. "Why does that have anything to do with it?"

"You're the Spirit of Winter!"

"Yeah," he retorted, "I am. And you're the Snow Queen. In fact, I—"

His voice trailed off.

"I think I just figured out what we are," Jack breathed.

Elsa watched as he turned away, walking over to her desk and tapping his staff on its surface. A fine layer of frost blossomed out over the wood, and he reached forward, drawing two circles in the dusting of snow with his pointer finger. Pulling them upwards, the circles became two tubes, wide at the top, hovering in the air in a shimmering mist. Twisting his finger around each in turn, Jack pulled them off, a long stem beneath each.

Leaning the staff up against the wall, he reached forward again to the hovering frost, simultaneously flicking the two floating tubes with his fingers.

Ting!

Jack grinned, snatching up the two long-stemmed wine glasses from the desk and whirling back around to face her.

"Got anything to drink?" he asked suddenly.

Elsa shrugged as he walked towards her, holding out one of the glasses. "I have a pitcher of water," she offered.

"Meh. Boring. We're celebrating. Anything with bubbles?"

"We need to drink something with bubbles in it?"

"Isn't that how you snooty types celebrate things?"

"Snooty types!"

"Well?"

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Sorry," she laughed. "Fresh out of drinks with bubbles."

"Then we'll just have to pretend, won't we?"

She took the glass, raising her eyebrows as Jack drew himself up. Grinning, he clinked his glass against hers.

"I still don't know what we're toasting," Elsa admitted as he dramatically raised the empty champagne glass to his lips. "What are we celebrating?"

He paused.

Slowly pulling his glass away, the Snow Queen watched as he leaned in close to her face, mischievously peering up at her through his hair.

"We're celebrating us, your majesty," Jack Frost whispered. "And the official formation of the world's first Ice Alliance."

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo (like, a wee bit more than usual). But don't worry, everything's still rated t!

.

15: FUN DRUNK

Coming to the turn in the hallway, Queen Elsa forced herself to slow down, trying to appear casual. She smiled and thanked the maids as they opened the doors, and stepped into the room, dark in the morning pre-dawn of the Scandinavian December. The long table was lit with candles. They hadn't yet been served, which made sense, because she'd come a few minutes early.

Suddenly, a lanky figure materialized in front of her, and Elsa startled, letting out a tiny shriek.

"Oh—sorry," Jack apologized, "Did I scare you?"

"YES," she gasped. "Don't—don't do that again. Ever."

He swept into a deep bow, taking her hand. "Please accept my apologies, then," he said, kissing it. As he stood up, Elsa saw his eyes quickly dart to the pendant resting on her chest, lingering for a brief moment longer than it would have taken to look at the necklace. He quickly hid it, looking up into her eyes again.

"Oh! You're—uh," Jack said, his eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise, "You're—wearing it already?"

"Thank you for making it for me," Elsa whispered. She smiled shyly, looking down and pulling the necklace forward to look at the snowflake again.

As she did so, the pendant swinging out away from her skin, her heart leapt into her throat.

"Was—wait, was I not supposed to wear it yet?" Elsa gasped suddenly, her face going pale as she snapped her head up, "I—I'm sorry, if—"

"—You're fine!" Jack laughed. "I just thought it'd help with the—"

He abruptly cut himself off. Elsa bit her lip, watching as Jack Frost slowly pulled in his breath, then opening his mouth to try again.

"I—wasn't thinking you'd put it on yet," he said carefully.

Elsa nodded. Then, as she anxiously dropped the pendant back onto her skin, she felt a random burst of joy shoot through her. She smiled again, blushing slightly with embarrassment at her own nervousness.

"But it's beautiful!" she laughed softly, "Why wouldn't I put it on yet?"

"Um—no reason."

They turned around, beginning to walk towards the table. Elsa pulled in another breath.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep on you," she blurted. "By the way."

Caught off-guard by the statement, Jack raised his eyebrows, letting out a sharp laugh. "Yeaaaaaah," he chuckled, "You were pretty tuckered-out. How much do you remember?"

"We were debating the merits of daytime versus nighttime snowstorms, and then I blinked, and then I woke up."

"Ah," he nodded. "You've never stayed up really, really late before?"

"Oh, come now. Of course I have," Elsa retorted, "I just—well—when I've been researching, or gotten really into a draft of a treaty, or something, I'll often lose track of time, and—"

"—I meant, staying up for fun."

"Oh."

Fingering the pendant again, Elsa's heart leapt, the strange rush sweeping through her body again. She then looked back to him, shrugging.

"I—I suppose I haven't," she admitted.

"Not even out in the Forest?"

She shook her head.

To this, Jack scoffed and rolled his eyes, leaning in close to her face with a grin. "The Kingdom of Arendelle—it can't be all hard work and deadlines," he whispered, flirtatiously peering up at her through his eyelashes. "Not even under your rule, Snowflake."

He reached forward, playfully flicking the end of her nose. She stifled a giggle, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks as he pulled in his breath.

"And as for the Enchanted Forest," Jack added, "Perhaps you just need to spend some time up there with… someone you can relate to?"

The Fifth Spirit's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by a long, shrill squeal from the opposite side of the room.

Elsa jumped, spinning around. "Good morning, Anna," Elsa laughed. "Calm down, Anna."

"But it's sooooOOOOoooo CUTE," Queen Anna exclaimed.

Jack smiled sheepishly, leading Elsa over to her place and pulling out her chair in front of one of the four place settings. As she sat down and he pushed her in, the pregnant queen's eyes went glassy again, her face turning pink with delight. Elsa laughed softly, shaking her head. "Thank you, Jack," she said, turning to him again as he sat down next to her. "I'm glad you could make it this morning."

"I'm glad I was invited," he shrugged, grinning. "And that I can be here to offer moral support for today's… activities."

"Oh… yes," she said quietly. "Right."

Jack grasped Elsa's hand under the table, leaning into her ear. "Elsa, you're going to be fine," he whispered.

"Oh, I know that," she shrugged, smiling. "I'm actually feeling really good about it."

He raised his eyebrows, quickly looking to the necklace again. "You are?"

"Yeah. Go figure," she giggled, "I'm supposed to be scared right now. I should be scared, actually. The fact that I'm not scared is scaring me."

"Oh, come off it," Jack said, squeezing her hand and glancing to the left, "No one's supposed to be scared. When is the first sorry sap going to show up?"

"If by sorry sap you mean suitor," Elsa retorted, raising her eyebrows, "Then the first audience is at 2:30 this afternoon. And there's only one today, I've been told."

"So, we've got a little time."

"Yes, but not much. There are a lot of general kingdom affairs I have to take care of before then."

Elsa looked back up across the table to Anna, who was intently watching the two of them, a dazed, dreamy expression on her face. Elsa let out a bark of nervous laughter. "Your face is going to freeze that way, if you keep smiling like that," she giggled. "By the way, where's Kristoff? He's usually here by now."

"Oh!" Queen Anna's eyes snapped back into focus, and she shook her head. "He's still working on my Christmas present, apparently. At least, that's what he told me. He doesn't know if he can be—"

There was a loud clopping sound, and the three of them turned to see Kristoff, covered with snow, and Sven come gallivanting into the room, tracking slush across the wooden floor.

"Kristoff! You're back!" Anna got up from her chair, stumbling over to him to help him take off his coat, gloves, boots, and scarf. Elsa, noticing the snow that the commoner king had tracked in, subtly aimed her hand at the floor from under the table. Normally, she would have been upset, but—well—it was no big deal, she thought, feeling the strange, joyful sensation again. He'd learn not to do that eventually. Even though he'd been the king for eight months, her brother-in-law was still learning the ropes of living in a castle.

Her eyes narrowing in concentration, Elsa flicked her fingers.

Whoosh. In a tiny gust of wind, the slush swept up into the air over the wooden planks, sparkling as it disintegrated.

Elsa smiled, the rush of happiness sweeping through her again. She glanced back to Jack, sitting next to her. He was grinning. Before he could say anything, she raised her eyebrows, putting her finger to her lips. He nodded.

"I'm so happy you made it back in time!" Queen Anna said excitedly, "Were you able to get everything done? I can't wait to find out what it is!"

"Yes. Barely," Kristoff laughed, putting his arm around her and pulling her into a kiss. As she pulled off his scarf, placing it on the pile of snowy clothing by the door, she kissed him back, and he laughed, placing his hand on her stomach.

"And how's little Mushroom doing today?" he asked her.

"Energetic, as usual," Anna giggled, "I'm really hoping that I can actually—you know—eat breakfast in its entirety today. And we are not naming our child Mushroom."

"Mushroom is a great name!"

"No, it's not. It's a fungus."

"We'll convince you yet, my love," he retorted, "Won't we, Sven?"

The reindeer whinnied approvingly, and Kristoff nodded, pulling out a carrot and giving it to him. He sat down obediently, and Elsa smiled as Kristoff let out a hearty laugh. Then, with Kristoff in his slightly-cleaner sock feet, he and Anna walked back over to the table, sitting down.

"And how are you, dear sister-in-law?" Kristoff asked, looking to Elsa.

"Just wonderful, thank you," she exclaimed, beaming.

Kristoff raised his eyebrows, laughing good-naturedly. "Well, somebody's chipper this morning," he replied. He then gestured to Jack. "So… is anyone going to tell me who this is?"

Elsa and Anna's eyes widened. Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Wait," he laughed nervously, looking at Kristoff with puzzled eyes, "You—you can see me?"

"Um…" Kristoff's voice trailed off. He glanced around the table in confusion, then finally looking back to Jack. "I… think so?"

THUNK. Jack stood up, bumping into the table and knocking over his staff from where it had been leaning with a clatter. He ignored it, eagerly sticking out his hand to Kristoff. "Well, then. Great to meet you," he said, "I'm Jack Frost."

Kristoff took it, shaking it so vigorously that Jack almost lost his balance. Elsa restrained from giggling. "I'm Kristoff," he replied. "And—Jack Frost? You mean, like the Guardian, Jack Frost? Seriously?"

Jack grinned sheepishly, and turned over his hand. Kristoff's eyes bulged as a large, intricate snowflake materialized in front of him in the air. Jack blew on the side of it, and it twirled around, then bursting into a few hundred tiny snowflakes, falling softly onto the table between them. Elsa beamed again, squeezing her hands between her knees under the table to keep herself from bursting into applause. Why was she so—randomly—happy?

"In the flesh," Jack laughed, sitting back down.

Anna's jaw was dropped, and she grabbed Kristoff's arm. "How did you…?"

Kristoff laughed, turning to Anna and Elsa. "Oh, come on… you know," he said, "The Guardians! Like… Santa Claus… the Tooth Fairy… the Man in the Moon…?"

The sister queens stared at him blankly. Kristoff's eyes widened.

"Man, what did they teach you here?" he scoffed, "You mean that you never—?"

There was a brief moment of awkward silence. A maid and a butler came into the room, putting down three glasses of freshly-squeezed juice in front of Anna, Elsa, and Kristoff. Pausing at Jack's seat, the butler stopped, a confused expression on his face.

"Um… your majesties?" he quavered, looking to Elsa.

Queen Anna stood abruptly, lurching to catch herself on the table as she nearly fell over from the weight of her pregnant stomach. "I'm so sorry," she said quickly, "Our fourth guest—um—hasn't come yet. Can you just leave his things there?"

The butler, breathing a sigh of relief, turned and placed the juice down onto the table. As his hand reached through Jack's body, Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff simultaneously sucked in their breath. The butler, his face flushed, snapped his head up to see what was wrong.

Jack shrugged, smiling. Elsa felt a rush of excitement, and found herself, for no apparent reason, grinning again. "Thank you. That should be fine," she told the butler. He turned and hurriedly paced out of the room, and everyone turned back to Kristoff.

"As we were discussing," Elsa said, "That we'd never heard of the Guardians before yesterday? No. We hadn't."

"You mean, not at all?"

"No," Anna said, a confused expression on her face. "I mean, we believed in Santa Claus and such, but... they're real?"

"There's a reason that your butler just put his hand straight through me," Jack said. Everyone turned back to him, and he looked to Kristoff. "So, how did you find out about us?"

Kristoff shrugged. "I was raised by Rock Trolls," he explained, "And Grandpabbi knew the Man in the Moon. He told us all about the Guardians—well—you guys," he corrected.

"Me included?"

"Oh, yeah," Kristoff replied, "All of you. Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman, and… you? You became a Guardian just this year, right? Grandpabbi said Jack Frost was the new one."

"Very good!" Jack laughed, starting to take a drink, "A fine education, then!"

"And, of course," Kristoff chuckled, "My adoptive mother had a massive crush on the Easter Bunny."

And the Spirit of Winter choked.

Coughing and sputtering, Jack Frost slammed the glass back down, clapping his hand over his mouth as his eyes bulged in horror. Elsa moved to help him, but he shook his head, choking and sputtering into his elbow until tears were forming at the edges of his eyes.

After a few more moments and a final bout of uncontrollable coughing—the Fifth Guardian helplessly gasping for breath once again—King Kristoff's eyebrows lifted.

"I take it that doesn't sit well with you," he said.

"I—I'm sorry," Jack choked, "I just—Bunny and I aren't exactly best friends."

Jack grimaced, looking nervously to Elsa as Kristoff restrained from a laugh. She had buried her face in her hands, her ears going red with embarrassment, unsuccessfully trying to restrain from laughing. It was just… so. Funny. Why was it so funny?

As Kristoff started to say something again, the butler and maid returned, each carrying two plates of food. Kristoff abruptly shut his mouth. The maid stopped, staring at the empty place at the table. Then, the butler glaring at her, she quickly shook her head, nervously walking forward with him and putting one plate down in front of Elsa, and another through Jack's apparently-invisible body onto the table. Elsa thanked them, and they quickly left, pacing a little faster than usual towards the door.

The four sat in silence again, staring at each other, as the door closed. Finally, Kristoff cleared his throat.

"So," he started again, looking back to Jack, "What brings Jack Frost to Arende—oh. Wait," the commoner king drawled, his eyes sliding in Elsa's direction. "Don't tell me."

"I'm pursuing a—um," Jack said carefully, "Friendship—with your sister-in-law."

"Of course you are." He then glanced to Elsa again, and raised his eyebrows, turning back to Jack and leaning across the table. "And—uh—good luck."

"Kristoff!" Anna exclaimed, hitting his shoulder. He shook his head with a chuckle, and Jack Frost shrugged, the sheepish grin tugging at the edge of his mouth as his eyes darted to Elsa's necklace again.

Feeling another strange jolt of happiness, she gestured to the plates. "So," Elsa laughed, "Are we going to ever actually eat, or…?"

"Oh, GOOD suggestion!" Anna exclaimed, "I'm STARVING!"

She and Elsa each picked up a utensil, starting on a different food on their plate. Elsa began daintily cutting into her slice of ham, while Queen Anna immediately went for the tiny pastries lacing the sides. Kristoff looked down at his table setting, with the numerous forks and spoons of all different sizes. Elsa could see, on the corner of her eye, that Jack was also confusedly looking at the royal assortment of utensils.

"No… darling…" Anna's voice murmured. Elsa and Jack both looked across the table, to see Princess Anna desperately trying to help her newly-royal husband. "Not—no, that one's for the berries—"

Elsa smiled in spite of herself as King Kristoff dropped the tiny fork with frustration, letting it fall onto the table with a clatter and selecting a different one. "Anna," he groaned, "I love you, but I've told you a million times. I am never going to remember which one is which."

"Oh, good," Jack laughed, raising his eyebrows, "So, I'm not the only one."

Kristoff shrugged, looking up to Jack. "Usually, I just pick one at random."

"Kristoff!" Anna exclaimed again.

Trying to restrain from a laugh, Elsa kneaded her eyebrows. "Seriously?" she laughed breathily, looking to Jack, "You don't? I would have figured that you would have pranked people about this."

"Oh, I have. Believe me, I have," Jack said, turning to her and smiling slyly again, "It's hilarious. When the guy is trying to have a sophisticated, romantic dinner, you just sneak up behind him and take away one fork at a time… and, over the course of the meal, you get to just watch as he loses his mind, trying to figure out why his date has seven forks, and he suddenly only has four…"

Elsa giggled, the light feeling rushing through her. "That is pure evil," she retorted.

"Thank you."

"So, you don't know which fork to use?"

"Nope," Jack shrugged. "But I can guarantee you that I'll pick up the right one."

King Kristoff let out a bitter laugh. "How's that?" he chuckled, "Teach me. I beg you. Some sort of magic trick?"

"No. Just hedging my bets," Jack replied.

He then calmly scooped the entire line of forks up into his right hand, stabbing his roll with all of them at once.

CHUNK.

Kristoff burst out laughing, clapping his hand over his eyes and sinking into his chair as Queen Anna protested, and Jack Frost casually took a bite out of the roll stuck onto the end of all the forks. Giggling uncontrollably, Elsa buried her face in her hands, helplessly struggling to stop herself from laughing. But she couldn't. It was just—she wasn't sure why it was so FUNNY, but somehow it was, looking at Jack Frost beside her, holding up the most ridiculous solution to mastering the line of forks that she had ever seen. It was just so funny. EVERYTHING was funny; the forks were funny, the rules were funny, Jack was funny, and OH MY WORD JACK FROST WAS FUNNY.

"Technically," Jack chuckled, leaning over to her in his chair and making Elsa jump again, "I am holding the right one. Somewhere in here."

"Oh my word," she gasped, "Put that thing down!"

"Not proper table etiquette?"

"NO."

A hint of a sly little smirk tugged at the edge of Jack's mouth again as he eyed the roll, considering the statement. Then, his face grave, Elsa watched as he adjusted his grip on the fork bouquet, looking to her solemnly and raising his eyebrows.

"Is this better?"

Jack Frost extended his pinky finger.

Kristoff was now laughing so hard that he was crying. Jack shrugged, grinning sheepishly as he put down the roll, and looked back to Elsa, who was redder than ever, giggling uncontrollably.

"Elsa?"

Elsa looked across the table to her sister. Anna seemed to be the only one who didn't find the situation funny, with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Elsa, what's gotten into you?" Anna asked quietly, "You're so—giddy, all of a sudden!"

"I have NOOOOOOOO IDEAAAA!" Elsa squealed, "It's just so—I don't KNOW why I'm laughing! Everything is just so FUNNY today!"

She leaned over onto the table, thumbing the pendant in-between her fingers and trying to take deep breaths. After a few moments, giving up, Elsa dropped it back onto her chest, dissolving into a fit of hysterical giggling again as another random shot of glee surged through her chest.

Queen Anna's eyes widened. "Elsa!"

"WHAT?" Elsa giggled, "I'm fiiiiiiiiiiine!"

"Your necklace!"

"OoOOOOoh, Jack made it for me! What about it?"

"It's—it's glowing!"

"Really?"

Eagerly looking down to the little snowflake, Elsa's hands flew to the necklace's chain, and she giggled again, flicking her fingers over the ice. It fell instantly into her hand, and she grasped the chain, pulling the pendant up to inspect it, and—

She froze.

Catching the colors of the sunrise from the enormous window behind them, the pendant glittered eerily as it turned before her in the air, all the joy she had so randomly possessed suddenly sucked away from her. Watching it with disbelief, Elsa felt a wave of fear wash over her body again, the pit in her stomach returning.

"Wha—?" Elsa squeaked, "I—!"

She looked up in blank shock.

"Why, you sly dog!" Kristoff suddenly laughed, looking to Jack. Elsa and Anna turned to him as well, and it was then that Elsa realized Jack was blushing, staring determinately into his lap.

"What?" Elsa choked, "What is it? What's going on?"

"Oh, come on," Kristoff laughed. "You know—Jack Frost! Jack Frost's fun magic? How he can breathe fun into, like, a snowball, and throw it in your face, and suddenly, you're having fun, too? He must have put it into that necklace. The genius!"

Jack gulped, slowly looking up into Kristoff's eyes. Elsa felt her heart start pounding, beating painfully against the inside of her ribcage.

"Wait…" Kristoff's voice trailed off, seeing Jack's face turning a deeper shade of red. "You—you didn't—tell her?"

Elsa abruptly stood from the table, shoving back her chair with a sickening screech. She looked to the necklace, and then to Jack, and then back to the necklace, her mouth hanging open in horror. He leapt onto his feet, his eyes pleading.

"Elsa," he stammered, "Please—I just thought it might help you stay calm today—with the suitors coming, and—"

"—You jerk!" Queen Anna gasped, "How dare you!"

"I was only trying to help!" Jack begged desperately, "I can explain!"

"Explain what?" Kristoff snapped, "That you thought you'd manipulate her into liking you, or—"

"—It's NOT like that!"

Her heart pounding, Elsa looked down to the pendant. The beautiful snowflake caught the light again, gleaming tauntingly as it turned on its chain, reality crashing around her once again.

Her hands trembling, the young queen shakily pulled in a deep breath.

"P-please excuse me."

Fighting back the stinging in her eyes, the Fifth Spirit shakily reached forward and dropped the necklace onto the table in front of him, shoving past her childhood hero in humiliation and fleeing from the room.

Chapter Text

CONTENT WARNING: Light violence, sexual/dark innuendo

.

16: SIXTY SECONDS

Dumbfounded.

Jack stood, dumbfounded, by the table, his mouth hanging open in shock. What had he done wrong? It—b-but the—it was working. It had been WORKING! She'd been so happy! And now—

Ca-CHUNK.

The door was opening behind him. Gasping, Jack snapped back into focus, leaping away from the table and whipping around as the last of her icy capelet whisked out of the room.

"ELSA!" he yelled, grabbing his staff and running after her, "WAIT!I SWEAR I was only trying to-OOF!"

Something suddenly slammed into his back, and Jack yelped as his body collapsed forward onto the ground, the staff flying from his hand and skittering across the floorboards. Gasping for breath and struggling to gather his senses, he tried to push himself up, only to have his cheek be slammed back down again into the wood.

Pinning him onto the floor, King Kristoff leaned forward to Jack's ear.

"Not so fast there, Frost," he said icily, wrenching Jack's arms behind his back. "Anna? Get my scarf. And a chair."

"What are you—URK!"

Jack gagged as the Commoner King yanked him back by his hood, pulling him up onto his knees. Holding Jack's wrists with one hand and his shoulder with the other, Kristoff then jerked the Youngest Guardian onto his feet, spinning him around and harshly pushing him forward across the room to where Queen Anna was standing behind a pulled-out chair.

"B-b-but she was so happy!" Jack sputtered, tripping as Kristoff spun him around, shoving him into the chair, "She—she was having so much fun!"

"Yeah, I'll bet you have that effect on a lot of girls," Kristoff snarled, holding Jack's wrists down as Anna threw the wet scarf over his arms. "But you wanna know something? Mister Fun Times?"

Anna yanked the scarf tight, binding Jack to the chair and stepping away. Cowering into the seat, Jack's eyes widened as Elsa's brother-in-law let go of his arms, violently grabbing his shoulders and glaring into his eyes.

"Not. In MY. FAMILY," King Kristoff gritted.

Jack's eyes widened as Kristoff shoved him back, the chair squeaking as it shifted on the floorboards.

"Kristoff?" Queen Anna asked. "Can I—"

"Yeah," he nodded, not taking his eyes off of Jack. "Go make sure Elsa's okay. And take Sven with you. While I deal with this crook here."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "What did you call me?"

"Hey!" Anna snapped.

Jack looked to her. She was standing by the door, holding the reindeer. Drawing herself up, she glared.

"What I said about marrying my sister," she stammered, "I—I take it back. I take it all back, you manipulative—you jerk!"

"Anna, I—!"

SLAM!

Jack struggled against the scarf in frustration, dropping his head forward to look down to his lap. Man, it was knotted tight.

The sound of Kristoff stomping across the room made him jolt, and he looked up. Jack gasped in horror as Elsa's brother-in-law stopped, bending down and picking up his staff.

"Don't—!"

"—Yeah, pretty nice stick ya got here, Frost," Kristoff snapped, picking up the gnarled shepherd's crook and inspecting it. "Lot of notches somewhere on this thing, right? Thought the Snow Queen would make a nice little addition, huh?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

King Kristoff glared.

"Oh…" he enunciated coldly, "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Jack's face went pale.

Before he could respond, Kristoff set his jaw, turning away with the staff in his hand. "Elsa's in my family. And if there's one thing that the rock trolls taught me, it's that family makes you who are," Kristoff called over his shoulder, determinately pacing across the room for the pile of wet clothes. "So, I don't care who you are, Blizzard Boy. You mess with my family, you mess with me."

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on…"

Elsa's brother-in-law dropped the shepherd's crook behind the pile of clothes, and then crouched down, digging out an enormous coat and beginning to search through its pockets. Swallowing hard, Jack Frost leaned forward against the scarf, staring at him with disbelief.

"Are you trying to tell me," he squeaked, "That your center—is family?"

"Family is everything," Kristoff snapped, not turning around.

A look of horror swept over Jack's features.

"Whose CENTER is FAMILY?!"he sputtered.

The Snow Queen's brother-in-law didn't respond, rummaging through the pockets while Jack's mind raced. Family. Of course it was. Meaning, that Elsa's brother-in-law was probably the most brotherly Big Brother that she could possibly have. Which would make Jack the—

Oh, no.

The realization falling onto him like an anvil, Jack frantically started squirming against the scarf, the chair squeaking and straining as it scooted forward across the wood.

I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead…

Having found what he was looking for, Kristoff straightened up from the ground, and Jack froze, his pounding heart leaping into his throat. As the Commoner King turned around, walking back towards him across the room, Jack saw that there was—instead of an ice pick, or some other kind of expected weapon—something small in his hand.

Kristoff reached the table in front of Jack, whirling around to face it and slamming the object down onto its surface.

WHAM.

He turned back around.

"See this? Frost?" Kristoff spat, gesturing to the glistening object as he leaned back against the table. "Know what it is?"

"Yeah," Jack said carefully. "It's an hourglass."

"Close. It's a minute-glass," Kristoff glared, "And it will measure out exactly sixty seconds, when I turn it over."

Jack looked down, squirming against the scarf. It was only then, with the colored light of sunrise dancing across the wooden floor, that he realized he was tied to a chair with its back up against the pane of an enormous floor-to-ceiling window.

He looked back up to Kristoff.

"Fascinating," Jack said. "What's your point?"

"That you'd better start talking," King Kristoff snapped, picking up the minute glass and gesturing to him with it, "Because I'm the closest thing to a brother that Elsa has. So, sixty seconds is exactly how much time that you've got to convince me not to pick up that chair you're sitting in and throw it through the window."

Flipping it over, Kristoff slammed the minute-glass back down onto the table again.

WHAM.

Jack's heart leapt into his throat as the golden-colored grains of sand begin to fall, and he shook his head vigorously, sucking in his breath.

"Okay, the thing with the necklace," Jack stammered, "Yes. I put a little magic into it. But it wasn't supposed to be weird, or anything. I mean, it's the same stuff I use with kids—it's just fun. Not creepy. I had no idea she'd react like that. I've never seen anyone react to it like that—actually—it was sort of funny, when you think about it—"

King Kristoff set his jaw, glaring into Jack's eyes. He then reached over to the minute-glass.

Shake shake shake shake shake.

Jack jumped, sucking in his breath again.

"And I'll admit that I've never tried putting it into a necklace before," he blurted, "I mean, maybe I overdid it—"

"—THIRTY SECONDS, FROST."

"I just didn't want her to be freaking out!" Jack cried desperately, "She has the first suitors coming today, and she didn't invite them, the Council did, because they're jerks, and I know that she was terrified! I gave her the necklace because I wanted to help her stay calm—"

"—TEN SECONDS!" King Kristoff gritted, and he paced over to Jack, grabbing the back of the chair and leaning it onto its two back legs. Feeling the wood creaking beneath him, Jack cowered into the seat, squeezing his eyes shut as Elsa's brother-in-law threateningly pulled back his enormous fist.

"I GAVE ELSA THE STUPID NECKLACE BECAUSE SHE WAS SCARED AND I DIDN'T WANT HER TO BE SCARED BECAUSE I HATE IT WHEN SHE LOOKS SCARED BECAUSE I LOVE HER, YOU MORON!" he screamed.

The last grain of sand fell into the bottom of the minute-glass.

Jack, still tied up and leaned back in the chair, winced, waiting for the blow. After a few moments, there was a long, creaking sound, and the chair fell forward again onto the floor with a thud.

Jack cautiously opened his eyes, gasping for breath, his chest rising up and down rapidly against the scarf. Kristoff slowly lowered his fist.

They sat in silence, staring at each other in disbelief. Jack watched as the Commoner King then pulled in a long breath, snatching up the tiny hourglass and walking to the pile of wet clothes again.

"Look," Jack started, choosing his words carefully, "I know that the thing with the necklace looks really bad. Okay?" He then shook his head, taking in another breath. "But I was honestly just trying to help. She's been freaking out about this suitorthing ever since she found out about it, and—well, I mean, why wouldn't she?"

King Kristoff said nothing, pulling up his jacket from the pile and beginning to brush off the melted beads of water from its outer weave. Jack strained against the scarf again.

"I really wasn't expecting her to have that kind of reaction to it!" Jack begged, "I mean, no one's ever gone—well—loopy with it before! I swear the magic isn't like some kind of drug, or anything. I just thought that it might help her to have a little fun through this whole—mess."

Kristoff remained silent, slowly walking back over to the table and to Jack, pulling on the still-damp jacket over his stained shirt. Jack blew a chunk of white hair out of his face, leaning forward as far as he could, his eyes pleading again.

"I would—never—mean to hurt Elsa," he choked. "You have to believe me!"

Kristoff looked back up into Jack's face.

"I do," he said quietly.

Jack closed his eyes, letting out his breath slowly as he leaned his head back onto the chair. He then suddenly felt the scarf loosen on his arms and lap, and snapped his head up to realize that Kristoff was untying him.

"You really do love Elsa," Kristoff said quietly. "Don't you?"

"Well—you know," Jack laughed nervously, feeling the scarf fall off of his left arm, "As a friend."

Kristoff stepped away from the chair.

"A… friend," he repeated slowly.

"She's a girl with ice powers," Jack admitted.

Kristoff pulled the scarf off of Jack's body and began to wind it around his hand, a hint of a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.

"Seriously?" he drawled.

A look of confusion swept over Jack's face.

"She's a girl," he enunciated, trying again. "With. ICE. POWERS."

King Kristoff grinned, visibly retraining from laughing.

"Not really all that picky, are you?" he chuckled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Kristoff shrugged, turning and walking towards the table again, "I was just—kind of thinking you'd come up with adjectives, or something. You know—besides female? Like, sweet, or smart, or beautiful—"

"—Well, yeah! I mean, of course she is!" Jack exclaimed, getting onto his feet as Kristoff placed the wrapped-up scarf on the table, "I—I think it's pretty clear that Elsa's all of that. Just—obviously."

"Oh, yes, obviously."

"Seriously!" Jack protested, "I mean—she's sweet, and selfless, and she's trying to be a good queen, and she really cares about her people, and she's got brains, and passion, and a REALLY great bod—"

Kristoff's eyebrows jumped, and Jack abruptly cut himself off.

"Body—of work," he choked.

King Kristoff crossed his arms over his chest.

"Uh-huh," he enunciated.

"Her—body of work. Like, the reforms and—stuff," Jack stammered, his mind racing in frantic desperation. "I find her—uh—tax code—to be, uh, very inspiring."

Biting his lip, Jack swallowed hard, looking away from Kristoff's eyes.

Tax Code. Smooth, he thought to himself. Idiot.

Kristoff uncrossed his arms, leaning back against the table.

"The Spirit of Winter has read the redrafted Arendelle Tax Code," he repeated slowly.

Jack drew himself up. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes. But, if you say so, Frost," Kristoff chuckled, pushing himself off from the table again. "I'm sure that Elsa will be thrilled to learn that there are now two people on the face of the planet who have actually read the entire piece."

"But it's simplified!"

"Yeah. She condensed a 488-page document into a 23-page document," he retorted. "But don't worry. It's still incredibly boring."

"Well, I liked it."

"Really."

"Well, I—um," Jack improvised, "I just—think it's really important—to simplify. You know, so it's understandable, and—stuff—and people need to know how the taxes work, or they, uh, don't feel like their money isn't helping the infrastructure, and—keeping things up—safety measures, and, you know, so that—"

"—Stop talking."

Oh, thank Manny.

Jack let out his breath, staring at the floor. Without looking up, he heard Elsa's brother-in-law take a step towards him, chuckling softly under his breath.

"Basically," Kristoff laughed, "You think she's hot."

Jack swallowed hard. After a few moments, kicking at the floor, a sheepish smile crept across his features.

"Yeah," he mumbled shyly.

The young king grinned, shaking his head and turning away to walk back to the table. As he picked up the wrapped scarf, tossing it to himself as he walked back to the pile of wet clothes, Jack leapt up onto his feet, running after him.

"It's not weird, or anything. I promise," Jack insisted. "It's just—Elsa's the first girl I've ever met that's like me."

"Not that you're desperate."

"What? Pfft! No!" Jack retorted, "But even if I was—oh, come on! You try going for over three hundred years without—"

"—Wait, how many years!?" Kristoff whipped around.

Jack Frost abruptly snapped his mouth shut, feeling blood rushing to his face.

"Maybe—a few," he choked.

King Kristoff's eyes narrowed. After a few moments, he gave his head a little shake, turning back to the pile of clothes and crouching down to find his knapsack.

"I—I should add, though," Jack stammered, blushing furiously, "Physically, I'm nineteen. And, my last girlfriend was WAY older than me, so—there's that, too."

"Elsa's an adult. She can make her own choices," Kristoff sighed, pulling open the knapsack and placing the wet scarf inside. "Not to mention, I'm pretty sure she's twenty-three going on sixty. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that she'd have a thing for older guys."

"Older?"

"Right. Ancient."

"I'm not ancient!" Jack protested, "I'm—just—sort of immortal-ish. You know," he added, "Like—frozen."

"Does Elsa know that?"

"Does she need to?"

King Kristoff scoffed. "Well, to be totally honest," he said, rolling his eyes, "Given what just happened, I'm pretty sure that your age is the last thing that Elsa's concerned about right now."

Jack's face fell.

"I really messed up," he choked. "Didn't I?"

"You think?"

Kristoff shook his head, sitting on the floor by the pile of clothes and pulling out a pair of thick boots. He began to strap them on, and Jack bit his lip.

"What do I do, then?" he asked. "You've known Elsa longer than I have."

Kristoff sighed, finishing with the first boot and starting on the next. "Well, you're just going to have to go and try to talk to her," he said. "And I can talk to Anna, too. If I can convince her that you meant well, she can talk to Elsa, and then Elsa might be less likely to sic a snow monster on you the next time she sees your face."

He got onto his feet, brushing himself off and turning back around. Catching sight of it laying on the floorboards, Jack began to reach for his staff, only to have Elsa's brother-in-law snatch it away.

"Hey!"

"If you're going to try to apologize to Elsa for using magic on her without her permission," Kristoff said coldly, holding the staff out of Jack's reach as he leapt for it, "I suggest you do it without more magic."

"I've still got magic," Jack protested, "I just—like using the staff. That's all."

"Yeah, but this is a glaring reminder."

Jack glanced down to his feet. Nodding reluctantly, he then ran his fingers through his hair, letting out another long sigh.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "You're probably right."

After a few more moments passed, Kristoff snorted.

Jack looked up. "What?"

King Kristoff shook his head. "I cannot—believe—that I'm giving relationship advice to Jack Frost," he chuckled. "Man, I've done a lot of crazy things in my life, but I did not see this one coming."

"Well," Jack laughed self-consciously, raising his eyebrows, "Who knew that you'd become the brother-in-law of a girl with ice powers?"

"Who knew that the Spirit of Winter would be such a complete moron?"

Jack felt blood rushing to his face. Quickly hiding it, he scoffed. "What does that make you, then?" Jack demanded, "Some kind of love expert?"

"No. But I have friends who are," Kristoff shrugged. "And as a general rule, I can tell you that women don't like it when you mess with their emotions. Or, in your case," he enunciated coldly, "Manipulate them completely."

"Manipu—? No, no, no. That's not how my magic works," Jack exclaimed, "When I smack someone with—well, like, a snowball, with the fun in it—all it does is absorb their fears for a few seconds. You know—social anxieties, deadlines, whatever's stopping them from having fun. Then, they're usually able to forget about the negative stuff for long enough to…"

Jack's voice trailed off. His face suddenly drained of color, and he stumbled backwards a few steps, throwing out his hand to catch himself and sinking into the side of the table. "Ooooh," he groaned. "I think—oh, no. I think I know what happened…"

"What? What is it?"

"The necklace," Jack choked, kneading his eyebrows. "She—Elsa was wearing it the whole time."

Kristoff's eyes widened. "Because the snowballs are only supposed to last for a couple seconds, right?"

"Right," Jack laughed bitterly. "So, when she kept it on the whole time, it was like she was getting hit with…a few thousand of those snowballs."

Jack pulled his hand down to his mouth, slowly shaking his head and looking back up into King Kristoff's eyes. For a few moments, the two said nothing, staring at each other in horror as the mutual realization fell over the room in silence.

As if on cue, Kristoff and Jack simultaneously burst out laughing, buckling over into hysterical, gasping snorts of horror as Jack's face turned beet red again.

"MAN," Kristoff exclaimed, shaking his head with a grin, "When Jack Frost makes a mess of things, he REALLY makes a mess of things, doesn't he?"

"I guess I do."

"You basically just accidentally got Elsa drunk," he drawled as Jack blushed even harder.

"Well, when you say it like that!"

The Commoner King walked over to the table and stooped down, gingerly picking the necklace up off of the floor and tossing it to Jack. "This should never fall into the wrong hands," he laughed, "I mean, at least for the sake of Arendelle, this is Elsa we're talking about. Another ten minutes, and her brain would have melted."

Jack bit his lip, sheepishly sliding his hands into his front pocket and nodding. The guy was right.

Elsa's brother-in-law took a step back, gesturing to the staff. "Should I hang onto this for you?" he asked. "Until you've figured out how to apologize to her?"

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea," Jack admitted, letting out a sigh, "But if something happens to it, you're dead."

"Sounds good." He walked over to the door, opening it. "Well…?"

Jack sucked in a deep breath. He began walking towards it, biting his lip. "Well… here goes," he said.

"Good luck."

"Thanks, man," he laughed, "And don't say tha—"

"—You'll need it."

"Ah, there it is," Jack grumbled. "Couldn't resist, could you?"

Shaking his head, King Kristoff smiled good-naturedly. Jack swallowed hard, walking out into the hallway towards Elsa's bedroom.

Chapter Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE ( original, written August 2015): Despite the fact that nothing "actually happens," the reason that this is rated T is because there are going to be some rather suggestive themes and dialogue snippets coming up (not until the next chapter, but this chapter gets a bit intense in a different way). There will be no profanity or anything graphic, but I thought it was necessary to give you a fair warning: Things are about to get a bit darker. ALSO: Don't worry—things aren't going to stay dark for that long! I promise that things will be looking up again in the next few chapters!

AUTHOR'S NOTE (added June 2017, after Drafting Hiatus): Sooo... yeah, okay, I needed Elsa to trust Jack in order to move the story forward. So, buckle up... we're taking an emotional shortcut for the next few chapters, and things are going to get DARK, before getting light again. Despite the fact that nothing "actually happens," but there's a reason this fic is rated t. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo

.

17: ELSA'S SACRIFICE

Knock knock.

"Elsa?"

Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of his voice. Her stomach twisting, Elsa pulled her mother's shall even tighter around her shoulders, turning around from her dresser. Queen Anna was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes expectant, as flurries of snow fell softly around them in the silence of the room.

Knock knock knock.

"Elsa, please," Jack begged through the door. "I know you're in there."

Elsa looked to her sister pleadingly.

The pregnant queen sighed, holding her stomach and standing up. As she walked to the door, Elsa quickly ran into her art gallery, whisking her capelet in after her and out of his view.

She heard the door into the hallway creak open, and then heard Anna's voice.

"She's busy," Anna snapped. "What do you want?"

"I want her to hear me out."

Elsa's heart started pounding, her breaths coming sharp and shallow as she struggled to stay calm. She could hear the pain in his voice.

Jack Frost's voice.

"I want to apologize. And explain," he choked, "I—I know that what happened just now looked bad—like, really bad—"

"—Basically," Anna snapped, "You're upset you got caught."

"What? No! I was just trying to help! And I figured out what happened—why she went loopy with it," he protested. "You have to believe me!"

"No, I don't. And she doesn't, either."

"If you just let me talk to—"

"—No!"

"I'm not gonna shove a pregnant lady," Jack's voice scoffed, "Look, can't I just—ELSA, I KNOW THAT YOU CAN HEAR ME IN THERE!"

Elsa's breath caught, and she snapped her head up.

"Leave her alone!" Queen Anna's voice exclaimed. Elsa heard the door start to creak close, and a small amount of scuffle. "She doesn't want to talk to you!"

"Elsa, I would never try to hurt you!" Jack cried, "I swear! I just wanted you to be happy!"

"GO!" Anna's voice demanded, growing a little louder, "And take your creepy love necklace with you!"

"It is NOT a—"

SLAM!

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut. Leaning her head back against the wall of the art gallery, she swallowed hard, the sharp pang of humiliation stinging in her throat again. Conceal! she thought desperately, gripping the shawl, Conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't feel…

Something cold was beginning to form in her right palm. Pulled it away from the shawl and looking down, her eyes glassy, Elsa realized that she had, without meaning to, formed a tiny sculpture.

A tiny, blue shepherd's crook made of ice was resting in her hand.

"Elsa? I got rid of him—are you—" Queen Anna's voice trailed off as she walked into the art gallery, seeing her sister. "Elsa?"

Anna stood in shock as Elsa, cradling the tiny shepherd's crook to her chest, sank down against the wall of the gallery and burst into tears.

.

.

And Jack waited.

Sitting on the floor outside of Elsa's bedroom door, he felt miserable. Powerless. More so than he had in a long time. Perhaps it was the strange feeling of not having his staff with him. Perhaps it was the fact that he knew he'd never hurt Elsa, but—she didn't.

More than likely, it was being unable to lift the crushing weight of knowing how much he'd hurt his sweet new friend.

After an hour or so, King Kristoff had come in search of Anna. Seeing Jack sitting on the floor alone, his face fell as their eyes met. He had asked Jack if he'd wanted his staff back, but Jack had declined. He still hadn't really gotten a chance to apologize properly. And the redheaded queen, as she had walked past him with her husband, afforded the Guardian of Fun nothing more than a cold glare before turning away and pacing down the hall.

After a few hours, a maid had come to the door, standing directly through Jack's body, to ask if the Snow Queen would attending the mid-day meal. Elsa did not open the door. She wasn't hungry, Elsa had told the maid. But thank you.

Fighting the pit in his stomach, neither was Jack.

.

.

BONG... BONG...

Jack sat up abruptly from where he was leaned against the door, the chiming of the town square's clocktower bells reverberating through the hallway. Two o'clock. Elsa's first audience was at two thirty. Any moment now, she would be—!

Hearing the clicking of lock tumblers falling behind him, Jack scrambled to his feet, spinning around. The door slowly creaking open, his eyes bulged as Elsa stepped into the light.

His mouth falling open in shock, Jack suddenly found himself staring into the flashing eyes of a terrifyingly beautiful young woman, her piercing gaze locked into his with all the strength and ferocity of a winter storm. The sunlight catching the ice crystals in her dress as she regally drew herself up, Jack looked down to realize that Elsa's previously romantic pink sheath gown was now a dark, steely gray, richly adorned with chains of icicles. Her hair was pulled back and twisted into an elegant bun, and on top of her head, Jack realized that the Snow Queen was wearing a spiked, icy crown.

Jack stumbled back a step in shock. This was not the timid, blushing girl that he had danced with the night before. This was Elsa, Cold and Powerful, Reigning Queen of Arendelle.

She sucked in her breath.

Jack snapped back into focus, giving his head a quick shake as Elsa bit her lip, walking forward past him and yanking her capelet into the hallway. Glancing back at the door for a fraction of a second, she flicked her hand through the air, and it swung shut behind her.

SLAM.

The lock creaked as it froze, and she drew herself up again, sweeping past him without a word. Jack jumped, whipping around as she began to walk away from him down the hall.

"Elsa, I know that I'm the last person in the world you want to see right now," Jack blurted, "But please! You have to hear me out! I'm sorry!"

Her back stiffened, and she ignored him, walking faster down the hallway. Jack followed.

"The thing with the magic," he said quickly, "I've never tried putting it into a necklace before—I didn't realize—well, I'm used to dealing with kids. And—and basically, I overdosed you, if that makes any sense. I didn't mean to!"

Reaching the end of the hallway, Elsa's face began to turn slightly pink. Pressing her lips together, she drew herself up, and began to descend down a long, regal flight of stairs, her dark capelet billowing out behind her across the rich carpet.

Jack shook his head, chasing after her, walking straight through the maids and servants going up the stairs on the other side from Elsa.

"I would never have done that on purpose!" he stammered, "It's just—I know you're scared of this. Of the suitor thing. And I didn't want you to be scared! I hate seeing you looking so scared! Please! Just listen to me!"

Reaching the end of the long flight of stairs, Elsa paced quickly across the smooth, shining floor of a long hallway lined with richly uniformed men. As she swept past, they all bowed in turn, but she hardly acknowledged them, struggling to hold her head high. Finally, at the end, she threw open an enormous set of doors, sweeping into a long room with an arched ceiling lined with rich carpets, tables, and chairs. Two men closed the doors behind her, and it was then that Jack realized, looking down to the end of the room, where they were.

This was the throne room.

The door finished closing. Jack pulled in a deep breath, his voice growing a bit louder.

"Well, FINE then! Go ahead!" he gritted, "Pull up your hair, put on a crown, and pretend that you're not scared out of your mind right now." Jack ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at her with desperation. "I know I only just met you, but—I'm not an idiot. Okay? I know I hurt you, and—I'm sorry!"

She said nothing, but climbed the two stairs leading up to her throne. Then, she swept around, gracefully sitting in the enormous chair.

Jack closed his eyes, then slowly opening them and trying one last time.

"Elsa," he stammered, "You're hurt, and you're scared, and it's my. Fault. Put up as many fronts as you want. You're not fooling me."

She closed her eyes, pressing her lips together again. Jack sighed. "Okay, see? This is it. This," he choked, "Is why I gave you the stupid necklace. It kills me to see you like this!"

"Jack…"

He looked up. Sitting regally on the throne with the capelet spread around her, Queen Elsa was a picture of powerful elegance. Every inch of her body was being held with perfect, royal control.

Except for her eyes.

"Jack…" she said slowly, still avoiding his gaze. "You need to leave."

"And what's that going to solve?" he snapped. "Do you think we're just going to be able to wake up tomorrow, and act like this never happened? I need to know that you're okay, Elsa."

"Jack, I mean that you need to leave Arendelle."

His breath caught.

"But—!"

He cut himself off again, giving his head a quick shake and pulling in his breath.

"But I just—got here," Jack whimpered.

The Snow Queen said nothing, clasping her hands tightly together in her lap and looking to the floor.

"Elsa, wha—what's happened to you?" Jack shook. "Why are you shutting me out?"

She drew herself up, sitting tall in the throne and finally staring into his eyes, her own brimming with tears.

"Because I—never—should have trusted you," she choked.

Jack stumbled back a step in shock, the words cutting into him like a knife. He then watched in horror as Elsa got to her feet, struggling to control her voice.

"I just want you to know," she said quickly, "Before I do this—that yesterday was one of the greatest days of my life. And you're still every bit as amazing as I believed you'd be. If I didn't have to protect Arendelle, I'd never stop."

"Protect Arendelle? What are you—?" Jack stammered, "Wait—Elsa—"

"—I know that I've gotten distracted. In the last of couple days," she continued, "And I can't afford to be. I have responsibilities. I can't afford to have fun. I have been reinstated to protect this kingdom. And I must sacrifice everything to ensure its safety. Even if—even if it means that I can't ever see you again."

"Can't ever see me again?" Jack scoffed, sweeping his hand to the side, "Of course you're going to see me again! I mean, I'm going to be right—"

His voice trailed off as he looked up, noticing her expression. Swallowing hard, the Ice Powers Girl shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears.

Jack could practically feel his heart stop beating.

"Wait," he choked, "You—you aren't saying—"

"I'm sorry," Elsa whimpered.

Jack's eyes widened, and he gasped. "Elsa! No!"

She drew herself up, taking in a long breath, her voice shaking.

"I am Elsa, Reigning Queen of Arendelle," she shook, squeezing her eyes shut. "And there is no such thing as Jack Frost."

"ELSA!"

Jack leapt forward as Elsa stepped off the platform. Clasping her hands in front of her as she fought back tears, she walked onto the carpet as Jack's body fell through her own and crashed into the stairs.

Chapter Text

CONTENT WARNING: Sexually predatory discussion/behavior (t-rated fic has t-rated villains)

.

18: CHOICES

A jolt of pain shot up Jack's side as he lay across the stairs, gasping for breath. It—Elsa—it couldn't be. It just—!

Fighting the burning sensation in his ribcage and the pain in his chest, Jack pushed himself up, scrambling onto his feet.

"ELSA!" he screamed, running in front of her, "PLEASE! ELSA, DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"

The icy wave of panic hit Jack's body as Elsa walked through him for the second time. He stumbled back a step, gripping his chest in pain as his heart turned to stone, sinking into his stomach and the nausea swept over him. His head spinning, he felt himself collapse forward onto his knees as the last of Elsa's billowing capelet rushed through his body.

"N-No," Jack sputtered, "It—please—no!"

You need to leave, Elsa's voice played in his mind. You need to leave Arendelle.

His eyes stinging, fighting back tears of his own, Jack bit his lip, pushing himself up and struggling to his feet again. Then, with one final, painful look at the beautiful Snow Queen of Arendelle, he turned and ran from the room.

.

.

"Hey, were you able to talk to her?"

Jack said nothing, holding out his hand for the staff. A puzzled look swept over King Kristoff's face as he handed it over, Jack snatching it away.

"Jack!" he exclaimed, "What's going on? And wh—are you crying?"

Jack bit his lip again, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away. "No," he lied, "And I'm going. Now."

"Where? What happened?"

"Away." Jack picked up his pace, walking down the long hallway from Kristoff even faster. The young king ran after him. "And it doesn't matter!"

"But Elsa!" Kristoff exclaimed, "For Pete's sake, Frost, you can't just run away! It was just a misundersta—"

"—SHE DOESN'T BELIEVE IN ME ANYMORE, OKAY?"

Kristoff froze in his tracks. Jack spun around, his eyes swollen, glaring into the former ice-man's face.

"She wanted me to leave," he stammered, "She said that she was getting distracted. That, basically, my being here meant that she wasn't taking good care of Arendelle. And then she stopped believing in me. She—CHOSE—to stop believing in me!"

Kristoff's eyes went wide. "Jack," he breathed, "I'm so—"

"—She LITERALLY doesn't think I exist anymore, okay?" Jack said, his voice breaking, "And, hey, why do I care, right? I got along JUST FINE for 300-something years, alone! I guess I can BE ALONE some more now! And so can she, if she wants it so much!"

The Commoner King was speechless as Jack scoffed, shaking his head and taking a step back.

"Great meeting you," Jack finally stammered again, "Lovely—interrogation—and stuff. But I've really, really got to leave now. North was wrong. I can't have a friend. There isn't anyone that could really understand me. I thought I might have a chance with Elsa, but—" He shook his head, cutting himself off. "Well—have a nice life, Kristoff."

Jack then turned and leapt into the air, shooting down the hall and away from the bedrooms.

.

.

He had to get out.

Now.

Messily wiping his arm across his face, Jack Frost grit his teeth, blinking furiously as his vision went blurry. He was losing control. The snowing around him had stopped, the air frigidly encasing his body as he slipped through the open doorway, stomping forward through the bedroom and passing through a small group of men congregated in the center of its floor. Usually, he would have laughed, or at least have noticed their sudden shivers and exclamations of how cold it had suddenly become, but Jack hardly noticed, glancing around the room for a window, a balcony, an anything, that led to the outside. Cold. Yeah, it felt cold. Really cold. To believe in him, stay with him, dance with him, heck, even kiss him, and then—POW. Like a punch to the soul. Given how cold he felt on the inside, for as far as Jack was concerned, the Snow Queen of Arendelle might as well have actually frozen his heart.

What was left of it, anyway.

Seeing a long set of curtains across the room, Jack stomped forward towards them, setting his jaw. A balcony. A little balcony, in this guest room. A way to the outside, to the stormclouds, so he could be up and gone and one with the wind and sky, to fly away and pretend that this blasted little kingdom had never existed…

Stepping carefully behind the curtain, his hands shaking as he angrily dropped the staff on the carpet beside him, Jack gave his head a quick shake, crouching down to figure out the lock. Shakily pulling in his breath, he blew into the keyhole of the balcony door, but instead of a finely-controlled, careful mist, there was a sharp creak, and he looked down to realize that the mechanism was now jammed, a messy, spiked clump of ice protruding out from the keyhole.

No!

His hands trembling, Jack reached forward, frantically trying to brush away the ice, only to see more flurries materialize across it from under his fingertips, setting the jammed lock into place.

NO!

"AURGH!"

Jack slammed his hand onto the surface of the wood in frustration, uncontrolled, jagged shots of ice blasting over the door.

"Did you hear that?" exclaimed a voice.

Jack froze.

"Why—yes! A thump!" another man's voice chimed in, "From—from over there! What do you think it was?"

"Well, go and see, you fool!"

"Yes, your highness."

Jack's heart leapt into his throat, and he sharply sucked in his breath. Scrambling to his feet, he whipped around, pressing his body against the door behind the curtain.

YANK!

The curtain was ripped back, and Jack winced, suddenly standing inches from a well-dressed man in his forties, staring into his eyes.

Silence.

"Well?" demanded one of the men in the center of the room. "What is it?"

The man holding the curtain gazed blankly forward, staring through Jack's body to the door. After a few moments, he shrugged, looking back to the center of the room.

"It's nothing, sire."

Jack's breath caught.

Nothing.

He was: nothing.

Still paralyzed against the door as the man turned back to him, staring straight through his body, Jack bit his lip, fighting back the stinging in his eyes.

"Your majesty?" the man said, "Look. Come look at this…"

Bending down and reaching through Jack's body, gingerly feeling the ice on the door behind him, Jack could feel the shadow of the man's arm stretching through his stomach. His eyes started stinging again, and he clenched his teeth together, bending down and snatching up the staff. He felt like nothing. No—Jack felt like less than nothing.

He felt invisible.

"It's—ice!" the man exclaimed as Jack passed through his body, stomping away from the balcony doors. "Do you—do you think that—?"

"—I was assured by her Royal Council that the queen has been keeping her—mutation—at bay," the older man said. "She shouldn't lose control."

Lose control, Jack thought. Yeah. Sure. He'd lose control. Maybe even get caught—it might feel better, anyway. But, then again, what he felt didn't matter, right? He was nothing!

There is no such thing as Jack Frost.

His eyes stinging again, reaching the door to the hallway, Jack furiously grabbed the knob.

"Well… we'll see soon enough," the oldest man shrugged, "My audience is first. And I specifically requested a private one."

Jack stopped.

His hand still on the knob of the door, jagged trails of frost spiking out onto the brass from underneath his palm, he slowly turned around, staring at the brown-haired, older man in the center of the room.

MY audience?

The man drew himself up, holding the newsprint in front of his face in the air and studying it. "You really couldn't find any full-length portraits?" he sighed.

"N-No, sire," the attendant apologized. "I did try. I will do better next time."

"Ah, well," The man sighed. "It's a shame. But, I believe you. And I suppose I will be able to look her over myself, soon enough."

"You are too kind, my king."

Jack carefully released the knob, turning around and looking to the little group of men in interest. This man—this king—was one of Elsa's suitors.

Her first suitor.

His curiosity suddenly overtaking his pain, Jack readjusted his grip on the staff, walking slowly towards the men in wonder.

"Rather bony little thing... isn't she?" the king mused, looking at the picture again. "Up top, at least. She'd need to put on some weight, before the wedding."

"That could be accomplished, sire—"

"—As it should be. And she shouldn't be allowed to have her hair loose like that. In the front," he continued, "It doesn't look regal. And it isn't the fashion, at all. Also, I've heard she's quite pale. Sickly-looking, almost; most unattractive."

"Yes, your majesty."

"Well," Jack muttered under his breath. "You're a real piece of work, aren't you?"

"I don't like it when women wear makeup like this," the king went on. "I want to see her face. I deserve to know what I'm buying."

"How right you are, sire."

"And her ears stick out too much," he whined, crinkling his nose as he eyed the newspaper, "But if she wore her hair like the women in my kingdom, it would hide them better. As for the tilt of her…"

Yeah. He'd heard enough.

Shifting his fingers on the staff, Jack Frost scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning and walking for the door while trying to drown out the rambling voice of the man continuing in his condemning analysis of the young queen's portrait. What a loser. It might actually be kind of fun, to go and watch Elsa take down this moron…

Elsa.

The thought of her name sent him reeling again. After a few moments, biting down hard on his lip, Jack shook his head violently, gripping the staff harder and continuing to pace for the door.

"B-But sire," one of the attendants tried helplessly, "You must admit—despite the unusual characteristics—she's rather pretty. For you, I mean?"

"Oh, I suppose," the king conceded. "She is pretty. Not—beautiful, but—yes, pretty. In a sickly kind of way…"

His attendants looked at each other, and he whipped the newsprint open with a thwack as the paper began to go limp, eying the depiction of the young woman again.

"A pretty little kingdom," the king muttered. "With a pretty little queen..."

Jack started to reach for the door handle, tossing his staff into his other hand just as he heard the king drop his voice to a whisper.

"This one shouldn't be too hard to hold down," he chuckled darkly.

Jack jolted.

His throat tightening with shock, he whipped around, staring at the king in disbelief.

WHAT... did he just say?

"These young, female rulers think they're so powerful," the king continued, folding up the newsprint and shoving it to the attendant on his left. "That's why it's best to get these issues sorted out early on. Make sure that the little creatures knowwho's really ruling the kingdom."

The attendant nodded, brushing off the king's coat. "You are very clever, your majesty."

"And wise, sire!" the other added.

The king smirked, nodding matter-of-factly. "How convenient it is," he chuckled, "That the most effective method of getting the message across is such a natural one. Is it time yet?"

"Yes, your majesty!"

"You look dashing, your majesty."

"She'd be a fool to refuse, sire."

"She would indeed. I don't expect her to, but… Queen Elsa is young. Quite young," the king sighed, taking the gloves from his attendant's outstretched hand. "And from what I've read, it appears that the little mutant of Arendelle doesn't seem to know her place. She might need to be—taught."

"You are a most excellent teacher, your highness."

"Well, naturally I am, Wilhelm. And if I do need to teach her respect—respect for powerful men," the king enunciated, raising his eyebrows, "She will not be my first pupil."

The other attendant gasped. "Do you mean, that she might not respect you?"

"How could she not respect you?"

"You are so strikingly powerful, your majesty!"

Jack's eyes narrowed as he watched the king puff himself up, nodding approvingly and beginning to pull on his gloves.

"Oh," the king said coolly, "She will respect me."

He finished pulling on the glove, drawing himself up and inspecting one of his cufflinks.

"I will teach her to respect me," he added darkly.

Jack's blood boiled as the attendants scrambled for the king's possessions, and he jumped, whipping his staff around and aiming it straight at the king's chest. His heart pounding, Jack's hands began to tremble as he slowly crept towards them, his jaw set in fury.

"You," Jack growled, glaring menacingly as his hands trembled with fury on the staff, "Will not be teaching Elsa anything."

"If there's one thing that I've learned in my life, it's that women," the king stated matter-of-factly, "Are like dogs. If they misbehave, you punish them. Have you my crown, Wilhelm?"

"Yes, sire!"

"And you know what we discussed," the king said. "My sources inform me that there are to be two guards, outside of the throne room. If I need to—leave an impression—"

"—We remember the discussion, sire. Two minutes?"

"Correct."

Jack lowered the staff slightly, an expression of confusion sweeping over his face.

What was that supposed to mean?

The first attendant nodded, and the other took a step back, pausing for a moment in front of the dresser. Still preoccupied with the strange statement, Jack watched as the man then reached for the newspaper, gingerly holding it up to the light and eying the young woman's portrait. After a few moments, he drew in his breath.

"Do you think it's true?"

The king paused, looking back to the man with raised eyebrows.

"Do you—do you think it's true?" the attendant asked again, dropping his voice to a whisper. "What they say about her clothes? That the Snow Queen's clothes are made of—ice?"

Jack looked down to his feet as the king stepped forward and snatched up the newspaper, the painful reminder of Elsa's beauty sending him reeling again. Oh, yes. The Snow Queen's clothes were made of ice.

Not that this moron would appreciate that.

"Well… if they are," the king mused, eying the portrait, "And if it turns out that I am called upon to teach the little mutant a lesson…"

He looked up, raising his eyebrows at the attendant with a smirk.

"This will be even easier than I thought," the king muttered.

Jack's grip on the staff tightened, his fingers twitching involuntarily as he glared. Just as he started to aim the shepherd's crook, his hands trembling with fury, he suddenly heard North's voice, the echoing counsel of his mentor sucking him into a memory.

"A-BUSE the power, LOSE the power, a-BUSE the power, LOSE the—aaaaurgh," Jack had groaned a few months earlier, standing in the Workshop's head office, "NORTH. WHY are we doing this?!"

"Because you cannot afford to forget it, Jack."

"But I—"

"—You are a GUARDIAN now, Jack Frost," North had said sternly. "Your power will only grow. We MUST make sure you can control it. Again."

"I'm not gonna to lose control."

"AGAIN, Jack."

"A-BUSE the power, LOSE the power, a-BUSE the power, LOSE the power…"

And Jack was suddenly back in the suitor's room, his feet planted, glaring down the end of his staff straight at the king's heart.

"She's really asking for it…" the king chuckled darkly. "Isn't she?"

Jack stood frozen in his place, paralyzed with anger as the king's attendants accompanied him to the other side of the room, one of them leaping forward to get the door for his employer. It was pulled back, and before Jack had the time to respond, the men had passed through, the thick wood swinging shut behind them.

BOOM.

And they were gone.

Clenching his teeth and looking to the floor, Jack suddenly realized that he was gripping his shepherd's crook so hard that his knuckles had gone white.

He's not worth it! He thought at himself desperately.

The entire staff was glowing, the strange blue light of its power eerily shining around him as he gripped it with all his strength, feeling the magic within the gnarled shepherd's crook pulsing under his fingers.

Not. Worth it.

Jack Frost let out his breath, shakily lowering the staff and glaring up at the door where the suitor had disappeared. What a loser. Who did this idiot think he was, anyway? This guy was a—jerk. A JERK, through and through, that did not deserve someone as incredible as Elsa. Even the thought made Jack's blood boil. But, she'd would never fall for someone like him. And she was perfectly capable of fending off any attack on her power that the moron could devise. At least, Jack thought, there was that. Elsa could take care of herself.

The Snow Queen's heart of ice would protect her.

Pulling in his breath, he forced himself to turn around to go back to the balcony, his hands still trembling with fury. He needed to calm down. To get a grip, get out, and get away, from Elsa, and from him, and Arendelle, and all the blasted, stupid memories associated with it. But—

He glared back at the door.

Yeah. Elsa will marry you, he thought sarcastically. And North will relocate to the tropics. Scumbag…

Jack grabbed the curtain, violently yanking it back and crouching down by the lock to see with relief that his formerly uncontrolled ice had almost completely melted from the warmth of the room. His eyes narrowed with concentration, he bent down, gently blowing a new ice key into the keyhole. Straightening it up, he took it, turning it until he heard the faint, familiar old click of tumblers falling. After so many years of busting into places, Jack knew that sound. Blow into the keyhole, tap the ice, twist, click, and done. Locks were easy. Locks made sense.

Locks couldn't betray you.

His eyes started stinging again, he gave his head a quick shake and pulled back the tall glass door, turning and taking one last glance back into the Snow Queen's castle. Seeing King Edvin's crumpled newspaper lying on the dresser, Jack's jaw tightened, the fury rising up inside of him again. That scumbag shouldn't be left alone with a girl for two seconds. Let alone two minutes…

Jack froze.

Two minutes.

A wave of nausea swept over him, the bitter taste of the realization in his mouth. The comment. The jerk said needed about two minutes. But—b-but he didn't actually mean—he wasn't PLANNING on—!

The realization falling onto him, he slowly looked up, turning back to the door through which the king and his attendants had disappeared.

What could happen—in two minutes?

Jack's heart started pounding, and he spun around to the balcony, seeing the sky outside the glass, clouds gray and beckoning. Biting his lip, he then turned, looking back towards the door where the men had disappeared and anxiously sliding his fingers into his hair.

Elsa didn't want him back. She'd thrown him out. And he was leaving. He had to leave. He was going to turn around, and walk outside, and leave, now. Right now. Not another—!

Ripping his fingers out of his hair with a yell of frustration, Jack stumbled backwards into the room, turning and leaping into the air to take off after them.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey again, everybody! Thank you SO MUCH to the people that saw my last note and have filled out reviews! With the traffic counter thingy down-and apparently, with PM'ing down, too-reviews are still, currently, my only way of gauging audience reaction. Therefore, I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me know A) if you're even reading this, and B) if you're liking where it's going! This chapter gets a bit sad, but happy times are still coming back. Have a fantabulous day!

CONTENT WARNING: Brief discussion of sexual assault, implied reference to child abuse

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21: NOT SIR

"Hi."

Jack looked up. Queen Anna, her arms crossed over her chest, was suddenly standing in front of him, next to the door of Elsa's room. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

He stood up, pulling his hood off his head. "Um… hey."

The queen closed her eyes, drawing in a long breath. Then, she looked up into his face. "Elsa told me what happened," she said quietly. "I mean, with the king of Hordalunde."

Jack bit his lip, sticking his hands into his front pocket. "How's she doing?"

"It's starting to sink in," Anna sighed. "She's been crying for about an hour, now."

"It was only a matter of time."

She nodded, staring at the ground. Then, uncrossing her arms, she let out a long sigh.

"I—I guess I owe you an apology," she stammered. "I misjudged you."

"It's okay—you don't have to OOF!"

Jack stumbled back a step as the pregnant young queen flung her arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as she could over her enormous stomach.

"You saved my sister," she whispered intensely, right next to his ear.

"It wasn't a big deal."

Anna let him go, taking a step back. "If you had a sister, you'd understand."

"Anna, I did have a sister."

Her eyes widened, her breath catching. Jack then watched as she clapped her hand over her mouth. "I—I'm so sorry," she blurted, blushing.

Jack shrugged. "You're fine," he said, "But—yeah, I understand. My sister was everything to me, before—"

He stopped abruptly.

Before I died, he thought, looking into Queen Anna's earnest face, Yeah, you probably don't need to know that little detail about me yet.

"Did she…pass on?" Anna prompted softly.

Technically, yes. About 70 years after I did. Jack nodded, pressing his lips together.

"Oh, Jack," she sighed. "I am so—"

"—It's okay. It was a long time ago," he interrupted. "But, um—Elsa—?"

"—You can marry her now. If you want."

Jack raised his eyebrows, letting out a short bark of laughter in spite of himself. The statement seemed so out of place.

"Oh—um," he chuckled, "Thank you, Anna. But do you think she's—?"

Anna bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah. You can probably go in, now. If you want to see her."

Jack nodded, leaning onto his staff. Then, as he was about to reach for the door handle, Anna leapt in front of him again.

"Just so you know," she blurted, "Elsa's not usually like this."

"How do you mean?"

"Well…" Anna's voice trailed off. "Um… crying every two hours."

Jack shrugged. "She's had a really intense couple of days."

"So have you," Anna said quietly. "But you haven't—well—broken down. I mean, you haven't, like, cried, or anything. You know?"

Bless you, Kristoff, Jack thought.

"Nah," he lied, "But that's—different."

"How?"

"It just is."

He reached for the door again. Giving a tiny oh, the redheaded queen took a step back, getting out of his way.

"Good luck," she stammered, "By the way. With her."

He found himself smiling weakly again. "Yeah. Um—thanks, Anna."

Jack then silently turned the doorknob, pushing it in and entering the room.

.

.

Sitting on the floor of her room, Queen Elsa hugged her knees to her chest, letting the tears roll freely down her face as flurries of snow fell silently onto the carpet around her.

Now that it was sinking in what had happened—now that the shock had passed—she felt so broken. How could King Edvin have said those things? Were they really true? Maybe she really couldn't rule as well as a woman…

Elsa shook her head vigorously, as if trying to shake out the thought from her mind. Her arm was still tingling with the memory of where he had grabbed her, like it somehow wasn't really her own anymore.

Like nothing on her body was.

As soon as Jack had taken her back to her room and found Anna, Elsa had rummaged through the back of her seldom-used wardrobe and found a dress from before her coronation. Forgoing her standard icy sheath and the day's adventurous single inch of cleavage, she had now opted for a thick woolen dress, dyed navy blue, with a high collared-jacket and full, ankle-length skirt—topped, of course, with her mother's shawl, which she clutched tightly around her shoulders. Elsa knew that she had an extremely curvy body, especially in her hips, and she had never felt so self-conscious of it in her entire life. Perhaps, she had initially thought, if she could simply hide it more, with the thicker, more "innocent" outfit, she would feel safer. Perhaps the tailored jacket and full, ankle-length skirt could let her feel less… dirty.

It hadn't helped.

She shifted uncomfortably in the dress, the wool scratching against her skin. Oh, she had forgotten how much she'd hated the material. This woolen dress was heavy. Constricting. Nothing like her ice. As much as she loved the glistening detail of her ice dresses, and the attention she received from the press for wearing them (which didn't at all hurt for her royal branding), it wasn't just the look that inspired the Snow Queen to create new pieces every morning. In Elsa's eyes—as silly as it may have seemed—even better than the crisp, light feeling that her ice fabric brought, ice fabric felt like freedom.

But freedom was dangerous. Normally, this wasn't enough to deter her, because she was confident enough in her power to know that she could easily fend off any attack that this danger might bring. She had her magic to protect her. But now, she'd learned that there were attacks that she couldn't defend herself against. How could she be confident in her own power, when confronted with the terrifying prospect that her power might be an illusion?

Your—lovely—companionship, he had said, eying her up and down. You are very beautiful, Queen Elsa… and also, very young…

Elsa looked down at her stomach, feeling the unfamiliar weight of the gown and clutching her mother's shawl even tighter around her body, hugging her knees to her chest. She did feel young. Very young, and very powerless. And as for her so-called beauty, she didn't particularly want to feel beautiful for anyone, for a very, very long time.

Your… femininity, his voice played in her mind.

Shut up! Elsa thought desperately, sucking in her breath and shaking her head again, Shut! UP!

Somewhere from across the room, the door of her bedroom opened with a long creak. A long, slender shadow fell across the carpet in front of her, and as she heard the door close again—without hearing the sound of any footsteps—she didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Elsa felt herself stiffen against the wall as he silently walked over towards her. She squeezed her eyes shut determinately, unsure of how to feel, as Jack Frost carefully placed his staff on the ground, then leaning against the wall and sliding down next to her. In her peripheral vision, Elsa saw that he'd pulled up his hood, a clump of his white hair sticking out of the front of it.

They sat in silence.

After a few minutes had passed, Jack hesitantly scooted closer to Elsa on the floor. She had looked up, finding her own eyes staring into his piercingly blue ones. He gingerly began to put his arm around her, and she had inched closer to him in response, saying nothing, but accepting it. He then held her for a few more minutes in the silence as she cried uncontrollably, the two of them sitting together in her gathering snowdrifts.

Does that mean… it will melt off of you… under the warmth of a man's touch? King Edvin's voice played in her mind.

Elsa let of an involuntary sigh of relief, feeling Jack's arms around her. Not this man's touch, she thought to herself. His arms, feeling strangely familiar to her after only two days, were beautifully, and reassuringly, cold.

So, so beautifully cold.

Elsa finally felt the tears beginning to slow, her breaths coming in more regular and controlled intervals.

"Jack…"

He took his arm off of her, helping her up. Elsa accepted his hand, sitting back into her place on the carpet, surrounded by snow. She stared at the ground in his direction, still not making eye contact as she messily wiped her arm across her face.

"Yeah?" he asked softly.

"I—I threw you out," she shook, "And then—well, I guess I'm just—Jack," Elsa stammered, finally looking up into his eyes, "Why'd you come back for me?"

He drew in his breath. Elsa gulped, her eyes wide as she looked into his face. It was filled with pain, poorly hidden, as he struggled to find the right words.

"You—um—you're not going to understand how much that cut me," he admitted, "Well—earlier today. When you walked through me. But," Jack paused, shaking his head, "Elsa—I don't hate you. I wasn't about to walk off and leave you alone with that creep."

"Maybe if I'd worn something different," she stammered, "If my dress was too—"

"—Oh, yeah, THAT'S the problem," he scoffed, "You look like a girl. How dare you."

He rolled his eyes, then shaking his head and staring forward again. Reaching out his foot for the staff on the carpet, he kicked it into his hand, then setting its end on the floor and beginning to absent-mindedly turn it, the curved hook spinning in the air above them.

Pulling in her breath, Elsa fidgeted with her fingers.

"So—um," she asked hesitantly, "You—you think my ice clothes are okay?"

He shrugged. "Are they a part of who you are?"

"I suppose so."

Jack caught the staff, looking to her and raising his eyebrows.

"Then you tell me," he said quietly.

Elsa let out her breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit.

"And besides, I—um," Jack added, letting out a nervous laugh as he began to spin the staff again, "I—think it's kind of amazing. Actually. That you can even do that."

"You really think so?"

"I have never seen ice like yours," he said, catching the staff again and letting it fall back towards them, the top of the shepherd's crook resting against the wall. "And I have seen—a lot—of ice."

Nodding, Elsa bit the edge of her lip, scooting an inch closer to him.

"Oh—and—um—and between you and me," Jack added, picking up the edge of her cuff and raising an eyebrow, "I don't think that the Snow Queen of Arendelle would be caught dead wearing something as drab as wool."

Elsa looked up to realize that Jack's face was suddenly right next to her own, his usually piercing blue eyes soft as he gazed into hers. She blushed, laughing in spite of herself, and he grinned again, letting go of her cuff as she sniffed and rubbed her opposite arm across her nose.

"But you're wearing wool," Elsa protested weakly, looking to the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Yeah. Well…"

Jack let out his breath, leaning his head back against the wall. After a few moments, Elsa watched as he rolled his face towards her, a good-natured smile twitching out of the side of his mouth.

"Why don't we agree that you'll be fashionable enough for the both of us, okay?" he whispered.

Jack shrugged, giving her arm a gentle nudge. Blinking quickly, Elsa let out another breathy, nervous laugh as she felt her eyes start welling up again.

"I—I'm sorry," she stammered, frantically flicking more tears off of her cheeks, "I don't know why I'm so emotional right now—I know I'm p-probably overreacting, and—"

"—Overreacting?" Jack exclaimed.

"You know," she said quickly, "About the audience. I don't know why I can't just calm down, after—"

"—He grabbed you!"

"Yeah, but nothing actually—"

"—It DOESN'T MATTER!"

She froze, her heart leaping into her throat. His jaw tense, Jack pulled in a deep breath, visibly struggling to contain his anger.

"It doesn't matter whether or not he was able to actually do anything," he gritted. "The point was that he tried. That's just as bad."

Elsa was silent, staring at him in shock.

Letting out his breath, Jack Frost looked back to his staff that was leaning up against the wall above them. After a few more moments of silence—watching him bite his lip, staring determinately forward and avoiding eye contact—Elsa swallowed hard, drawing in a deep breath to try again.

"I suppose you're right," she choked. "I just—it caught me off-guard."

Jack snorted. "You don't say."

"But I should have been ready. I know I'm not really around here much anymore, but I've been temporarily reinstated, so—so I'm the Queen," she groaned, "That makes me a target again. So, he pulled a power play on me. On Arendelle. I don't believe in dirty politics, but—"

"—That was NOT politics," Jack snapped. "That was just wrong."

"Wait—you don't think that was political?"

"NO."

"Then why did…"

Elsa's voice trailed off, and she looked down into her lap, a wave of confusion sweeping over her face at the statement. How could it not have been politics? If it wasn't something she did, and it wasn't about Arendelle…

"I—I'm sorry," she whimpered, her voice hardly more than a whisper as she shrank away from him in embarrassment. "I'm just—trying to make sense of it. I just want to understand."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Can I try?"

She stared into her lap, fidgeting with her fingers. Then, letting out her breath, Elsa looked back up into his eyes and nodded.

He set his jaw, glaring.

"He ATTACKED you. He's a scumbag. End of story," Jack enunciated. "It has a name. It's called assault. Stop justifying it."

Elsa shifted uncomfortably in the unfamiliar dress, staring into her lap again. "B-b-but he didn't have a weapon, or anything," she stammered, "And, it's not like he was trying to steal something, or make a war deal, or—you know? And I could've fought him off, anyway."

"Yeah, okay, sexual assault, then. Arguably worse." He scoffed, shaking his head and leaning it back against the wall. "Sicko."

Elsa stared at him blankly.

"What?" Jack asked, "You know… uh… sexual… sexual assault…?"

She shook her head.

Jack's eyes widened.

Then, he looked away, leaning forward and clapping his palm over his eyes. "Let me guess," he groaned, pulling his hand down his face, "Your parents didn't feel the need to teach you about that, either."

"I'm sorry," she admitted, "I—

"—What was wrong with your parents?"

"They did their best—"

"—Yeah, well, it sounds like they never got around to the actual parenting part of parenting," he scoffed. "What did they even teach you, for all those years?"

Elsa thought for a moment. She then swallowed hard, hesitantly glancing in his direction. "Um…" she squeaked, "Ice powers bad?"

"My, what a useful thing for a young daughter with ice powers to know."

Elsa felt herself blushing, and sat up a little higher against the wall. She looked back to him, and their eyes met.

Jack drew in a deep breath.

"Oooookay, how do I explain this," he mumbled, kneading his eyebrows. "Uh—let's see—two things, okay? First thing: Nobody has a right to touch you anywhere, for any reason, without your consent. Second thing: If they do, it's not your fault. Ever. Alright?"

Elsa bit her lip. "That's it?"

"That's it." Jack let out his breath, leaning his head back against the wall. "Wait. Actually, no. There is a third thing."

"What's that?"

He looked over to her. "If anyone tries to do anything like that to you again," he said quietly, "You tell me, and I kill them. Okay?"

Elsa said nothing, nodding.

The silence fell over them once more. Pulling in a long breath, Elsa watched as Jack closed his eyes, like he was silently rebuking himself in an effort to calm down.

"Um… Jack?" she quavered. "Are you—are you okay?"

He opened his eyes again, picking up the staff. "Elsa—I just watched that guy use something that's supposed to be fun to try to hurt you. Like—to inspire fear," he gritted. "That doesn't—sit well, with me."

"You're really passionate about this," Elsa asked. "Aren't you?"

The Youngest Guardian's ears turned pink, and he stared forward, spinning his staff on the ground. Catching it, he pulled in his breath.

"Fun is important," Jack Frost mumbled.

Elsa didn't respond.

After a few more moments, awkwardly spinning his staff in the silence, Jack pulled in another quick breath to try again.

"Look… fun is good. Fear is bad," he sighed. "That… well, that sort of defines my existence."

She nodded, biting her lip. Shifting on her hips as she considered the statement, the silence fell over them once again.

"And ice powers," Elsa stammered suddenly.

He jumped, looking back to her. After a few moments, he shook his head, his face cracking into a grin.

"Um… right," Jack laughed softly. "That, and ice powers."

He smiled good-naturedly, planting the end of his staff in the carpet and pulling himself onto his feet. Turning back around to face her, he drew in his breath.

"But as fun as it is to talk to somebody else with ice powers," he started again, offering his hand, "It's pretty late, Elsa. And I've kept you up for a couple nights in a row, already."

She said nothing, but nodded, taking it. Jack pulled her onto her feet, then dropping her hand and taking a step back as she pulled off her mother's shawl. Carefully folding it, she then placed it on her nightstand.

"I have no idea how to apologize," Elsa choked, brushing off her dress. "Or thank you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Just promise to never shut me out like that again, alright?"

"That's a horrible thank you gift," she retorted, "I mean, I do promise, but I—wait. Can I give you an award?"

"Uh…" Jack said slowly, "An… award?"

"I'm a queen. I give people awards for things."

He smiled bitterly. "Gee," he chuckled, arching an eyebrow, "You think Arendelle will formally recognize an invisible snow sprite?"

"This isn't an award from Arendelle."

"Then who's awarding me?"

"How about the Ice Alliance?"

Jack's eyes widened.

"Wait…" he breathed. "Really?"

Elsa nodded.

Looking down to his feet, Jack stuck his hand into his front pocket, kicking at the carpet for a moment. Letting his staff fall back onto his shoulder, he then looked back into her eyes.

"So… um," he asked hesitantly, "This—this means we're an alliance again?"

"I'd certainly hope so."

Elsa watched as a wave of relief swept over his face. Her own expression softening, the Fifth Spirit felt her heart swell, years' worth of built-up tension and insecurities beginning to melt away as she and the Spirit of Winter shyly stared into each other's eyes.

His gaze was so kind…

After a few moments, Jack cleared his throat.

"So, the—you were wanting to—"

"Oh! Right!"

Elsa snapped back into focus, taking a step back from him. Sweeping her hand forward, a soft rumbling as it materialized out of the carpet, a long, sparkling sword of ice stood on its tip before them.

Jack's eyes widened as Elsa stepped forward, taking the ice sword by its hilt and breaking it off of the carpet at its tip.

Crack!

As she tossed it to herself, setting it gleaming as she adjusted her grip, Jack Frost let out a breathy laugh. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

She didn't respond, but smiled shyly, drawing herself up as she turned back to him.

"Jack Frost," Elsa started, "I, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, am honored to bestow upon you the highest honor that can be given to a member of the Ice Alliance. You may kneel."

His cheeks flushing slightly, Jack obeyed, silently getting onto one knee. Pulling in her breath, Elsa lifted the crystalline sword, starting to gently lower it to his shoulder.

"Wait," Jack stammered, jolting back, "I—I'm not getting knighted, am I?"

She froze and looked up.

"Wait," Elsa asked, "Would you like to be?"

"NO. I mean—uh," Jack admitted, "I guess it'd be—well, it'd be an honor, and stuff, but I—It's just that—well, Sir Jack Frost just sounds—weird."

His cheeks flushed again, the tips of his ears going pink as he glanced down, shifting uncomfortably on his knee. Raising her eyebrows, Elsa pulled back the ice sword.

"You think it sounds snooty, don't you?"

He reached up, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding her gaze. "Unbearably snooty," Jack scoffed, hesitantly looking back up into her eyes. "Like—I would never hear the end of it, snooty."

"No knighthood, then," Elsa laughed. "But that's alright. I'm kind of thinking that it's not high enough, anyway."

An expression of confusion swept across his face. "What's higher than a knighthood?"

"How about a friendship?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. After a few moments, he let out his breath.

"Friendship is good," he agreed.

Elsa nodded, smiling as the Spirit of Winter bowed his head. Drawing herself up, she lifted the icy sword once again, tapping it on his right, and then left, and then right shoulders.

"You may rise," Elsa declared, nodding regally and pulling back the sword as she went into Automatic Queen Mode, "Sir—"

"—DON'T you dare."

Elsa jolted, abruptly opening her eyes and cutting herself off. Jack grinned up at her wryly, and Elsa restrained for a laugh as she started again.

"You may rise, Not-Sir Jack Frost. My—"

He raised his eyebrows, glancing up towards her in curiosity. She pulled in her breath, sweeping her hand forward and sending a spiral of snowflakes dancing through the air towards him.

"My—best friend," Elsa finished softly.

Jack looked down in surprise as the flurry of ice swirled into his shirt to solidify on the upper left side of his chest, a coin-sized, solid snowflake clinging to the wool on an icy ribbon. Jack's mouth fell open in shock, and Elsa's heart leapt as he gingerly reached up to touch it.

Grasping the medal, Jack's face cracked into a sheepish smile, and he said nothing, placing his hand on his thigh and pushing himself up onto his feet as he looked back up into her gaze. Elsa felt her shoulders relaxing, smiling shyly back as they stood together in the middle of the silent bedroom, staring into each other's eyes.

"Except for Anna," she blurted.

Jack jumped, laughing. After a few moments, he fell quiet again.

Feeling the edges of the medal, he shook his head, his cheeks flushing as he looked back up into Elsa's eyes.

"Do you really consider me to be your best friend?" Jack asked softly.

She glanced down to her feet, fidgeting with her fingers. "Well," Elsa admitted, "To be completely honest, I—I've never really had a best friend before. Not that I wasn't directly related to, anyway."

"That makes sense."

He reached back up to the medal, gently tugging the snowflake with a bashful smile. The silence fell again, and Elsa glanced to her bed. Suddenly realizing how tired she was—and seeing the icy room divider from their first morning together in her room by the foot of her bed—she bit her lip.

"Can I—um," she stammered, "I—I'm sorry—would it be okay if—?"

Her voice trailed off. Looking to her feet, the quiet fell as she nervously pulled her hands in close to her stomach, fidgeting with her fingers.

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"You want me to not look so you can change," he said.

Elsa nodded, feeling herself blushing again. To this, he smiled good-naturedly, picking up his staff and spinning away from her.

"It's fine," he chuckled, dropping the end of his staff back into the carpet again and leaning into it. "Just tell me when I can turn around, okay?"

Elsa let out her breath, nodding and pacing across the room. Reaching the room divider, she then hesitantly looked back to where he was standing, to see that the Spirit of Winter was still turned away from her, respectfully staring at the ceiling.

Her heart swelling in gratitude, Elsa leapt behind the room divider, frantically beginning to fumble with the buttons on her woolen jacket.

"On the subject of the best friend thing, though," Jack started, his voice carrying nearly unimpeded over the top of the thick screen, "I'm pretty sure that Anna falls into a totally different category."

Elsa nodded, pulling off the jacket and throwing it over the top edge of the room divider. She reached for the top of her bodice. "She's my sister."

"Seems like a really good one, too. That girl would die for you."

"Technically, she sort of did."

"Wait, what?"

"Long story."

Elsa pulled off the main bodice and threw it over the top of the room divider as well. Her fingers flying over its front, she then began undoing the front of her blouse, groaning inwardly at the ridiculousness of her old clothes. SO many unnecessary layers...

"I am never beating Anna, am I?" Jack's voice started again as she shrugged out of the blouse, undoing the skirt and letting it slouch down onto her hips.

"Never."

He laughed, and Elsa felt her heart leap again, temporarily forgetting the frustration of the buttons. But she remembered it soon enough, feeling her back for the laces of her corset. Not the right one… not the… nope. Aaaand, no.

"Gaaaaurgh," Elsa groaned, "Confounded—!"

"Everything okay?"

"It's just—there they are!"

Finally locating the end of the laces, Elsa slid her fingers into the knot. In a few moments, she had untied it and was yanking at the laces in the back of the piece, letting out her breath as the old corset loosened.

"Ice is so much nicer than all of this—everything," she laughed bitterly, pulling off the corset and reaching for the petticoat. "Fashion is ridiculous."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but yeah. Ice is better."

"See, this is why I think you're my best friend."

Finally out of the constricting woolen clothes, Elsa threw the petticoat over the top of the room divider, sweeping her hand over her body. A crisp, clean sheet of white ice materialized out of the air around her, settling onto her skin in a v-necked white shape and sweeping down to her legs. As she pulled a little dye out of the carpet—guiding the droplets to infuse themselves into the icy nightgown and turn it a deep purple—Elsa then sighed in relief, flicking her fingers over her shoulders and making a short cape burst out from the back.

"If it means anything," Jack's voice said softly as Elsa pulled the ice down over her arms into sleeves, "I—I think you're becoming my best friend, too."

Elsa felt her heart swell within her chest again. Saying nothing, she hesitantly peered around the edge of the room divider, seeing that Jack was still standing on the other side of the room, turned away from her.

See? She thought. THIS is what friendship is.

"You good now?" Jack asked suddenly, making her jolt back into the moment.

"Oh! Um, yes. Sorry," she said, giving her head a quick shake and pulling the woolen clothes down from off of the room divider. "And thank you."

"Nothing to apologize for."

As she stepped out from behind the ice, Jack Frost picked up his staff, turning around. As Elsa reached her dresser, putting the clothes down onto its surface, she froze.

"Oh—I'm sorry," she stammered, her face going pale, "I—I apologize if this offends you."

Jack paused, looking abruptly confused. "A nightgown?"

Elsa gulped.

"Sorry," she whispered. "If I'm being scandalous. When I'm just with Anna and Kristoff, sometimes I wear it around the castle at night, but once I was seen outside in it, and the press just about ate me alive for—"

"—Snowflake. It's a nightgown," Jack chuckled, "I've seen ladies in nightgowns before. It's not offensive. To be honest, I don't even think that there's anything that would really surprise meannnnd there's a cape on it."

The Fifth Spirit laughed self-consciously as she walked over to her bed, pulling out her braid. "I like capes," she whispered.

"Who wears a cape to bed?"

"Technically, this isn't a cape, though," she explained, pausing, "It's an overskirt. If it were a cape, it wouldn't be connected at the front like this."

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, "It's an overskirt. Not a cape. I believe you."

Jack Frost shrugged, holding his hands in the air in submission with a teasing grin. Elsa blushed as he laughed under his breath, feeling the warmth of his smile.

"As long as it doesn't offend you," she whispered, shaking out her hair. She pulled down her bedcovers, crawling underneath. "Some people got quite upset a year ago."

"For a nightgown? Was it a scandal, or something?"

She nodded. "It kind of caught me off guard," she admitted. "The water is sucked out of the fountains, the street lamps burst, and the ground rips apart beneath everyone's feet, but what offended some people was the fact that the I was in a nightgown."

Jack scoffed, shaking his head with a grimace. "That—is impressively stupid," he said. "If it's any consolation, though—you are not offending me."

Elsa shifted back in the sheets, adjusting her nightgown underneath her hips as he picked up his staff, turning and walking back over to her. As Jack spun around, gingerly sitting down on the edge of her bed, Elsa pulled in her breath.

"Jack… did something happen?"

"Something happen?" he asked, looking to her in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"It just—you know," she pressed, "With—with the assault thing? I mean—you're so passionate about this. Did something happen? Like—to you?"

"Wait—me? Oh, no. Not at all," he said, "I just—I know what this kind of abuse does to people. Okay?"

"What do you mean?"

Jack shifted his fingers on the staff, closing his eyes for a moment. Opening them again and letting out his breath, he looked back up into her gaze.

"Elsa…" he said softly. "I work with kids. Remember?"

Elsa's eyes widened. "People do this to kids?" she breathed.

The Fifth Guardian bit his lip, looking down as if he were suddenly struggling to keep his composure. Closing his eyes and then opening them again—trying to decide which words to use—he drew in his breath.

"There's a lot of darkness in his world," Jack said quietly.

Elsa's face went pale.

"How—!" She gave her head a quick shake, shifting on her hips. "How is that—how is that even—"

"—I know."

Jack sighed, looking into his lap. Elsa shook her head, leaning forward to him.

"How do you not get angry?" she gasped, "How do you—"

"—Hey, I never said it doesn't make me angry," Jack scoffed. "It makes me more angry than just about anything."

"Do you ever go after the adults?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Like, for revenge?"

She nodded.

"Elsa…" he said quietly. "Our job is to try to bring joy to children. I mean, if we have a chance to stop something from happening, that's different, but… with the revenge thing," he said, taking in another deep breath, "What good would that actually do for the kids?"

She swallowed hard, feeling her throat tighten with embarrassment.

He was right.

"Seriously, though—not everyone is awful," Jack started again, making her look up. "At least, that's what we have to assume, as Guardians. Our job is to bring light and joy to children in any way that we can."

Elsa nodded weakly. "I suppose that makes sense," she conceded. "I mean, with the darkness thing. That you were telling me about earlier."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how do you fight any kind of darkness?"

Jack's eyebrows lifted slightly. A hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth, he then looked back up into her eyes, his expression softening.

"With light," he said.

The peaceful silence fell again.

"No one can do everything, but everyone can do something," Jack added softly. "My thing is fun."

"My thing is political research."

They stared at each other for a moment in silence.

"My something is more boring than your something," Elsa grumbled.

"Aw, come on," Jack laughed, flicking the end of her nose. "Every something helps. And besides. I'm pretty sure that you've got more in you than that."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. But for now," Jack added, pushing himself up from the edge of the bed and getting onto his feet, "I wouldn't worry about it. There'll be plenty of time for you to philosophize yourself into a nervous breakdown in the morning."

He smiled good-naturedly, turning back around to face her. Picking up her hand in his own—a taking a moment to run his thumb over her skin—Jack then looked back up into her eyes.

"Well," he said softly, "I guess this is it. See you in the morning, Elsa."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. As he started to turn away, Elsa caught his wrist.

"—Wait!"

Jack turned back around to her, his eyebrows slightly raised. Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them again, shaking her head slightly.

"Don't—" she stammered, "Um—please don't—please don't go."

A hint of a smile began to appear out of the corner of his mouth. Jack took a step back towards her again, sitting on the edge of her bed and holding her hand. "What? Why not?"

She bit her lip, looking down, feeling his cool hand around hers. Elsa nervously opened her mouth to say something, and then abruptly closed it again.

Jack leaned forward, a little bit closer to her, staring into her face. "You're—um," he whispered, "You're scared—aren't you?"

She said nothing. Then, after a few moments, she sighed and nodded, looking up to meet his gaze. "I don't want to—um," Elsa choked, her voice hardly more than a squeak as Jack raised his eyebrows. "See him again. I mean, what if I close my eyes, and he's there?"

"You're scared you'll have nightmares?"

Elsa bit her lip, looking down to the blankets and avoiding his gaze as more heat rushed to her face. It sounded so—immature—when he put it like that.

But that didn't make it any less true.

"Well… ma'am," Jack said softly, sitting back down on the edge of the bed and making Elsa look up again, "I can personally promise you that that's not going to happen."

She blushed, letting out a breathy, bitter laugh. "Since when does the Spirit of Winter do battle with nightmares?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly shut it, deciding against the reply. Glancing into his lap—and calculating his words carefully—he looked back into her eyes.

"Wouldn't be my first time," Jack decided.

Just as Elsa was about to respond, Jack then suddenly shrugged, tossing his shepherd's crook into his opposite hand and holding it up.

"No match for THIS," he said proudly, twirling it in-between his fingers, "Fun freezes 'em in their tracks. And besides. I've got a friend that can help me."

A look of confusion swept over her face as Jack dropped his staff onto his lap, then crossing his ankle over his opposite knee. "Are we talking about Anna again?" Elsa asked.

"Nah. I mean, well, yes, but I was talking about someone else," he admitted. "I'm good with fun. He's good with dreams."

Elsa looked down to the covers, crossing her arms over her chest and considering the statement. After a few moments, her eyes bulged.

"Are—are you meaning the Sandman?" Elsa gasped, looking back up to him. "The Sandman is real?"

He laughed. "Well, technically, I'm not really allowed to tell you," he chuckled, uncrossing his leg and pushing himself up from the edge of her bed. "Directly, I mean."

Elsa looked at him suspiciously. "How about—just offering an opinion?"

"What kind of opinion?"

"Do you think I should believe?"

The Youngest Guardian raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I think you should."

Jack grinned, leaning forward and resting his chin on his fist. Elsa leaned her head back against the wall, shifting in her bed.

"You're friends with The Sandman?" she laughed breathlessly.

"He's pretty fun," Jack shrugged. "Sandy and I go way back."

"Sandy!"

Jack Frost nodded, glancing to her again with a sheepish grin. Elsa felt a jolt of excitement rush through her at the prospect, suddenly remembering who he was.

Of course Jack Frost would know The Sandman.

"Which is why you need to go to sleep," he laughed, making her snap back into focus. "If he ever finds out how late I've kept you up, Sandy'll kill me."

"We stayed up really late last night."

"We were having fun. It's different."

"How?"

"Because fun is my turf, and Sandy knows it."

Flipping the staff back to place its end on the ground, Jack pushed himself up onto his feet again. Letting out his breath, he then turned back to face her, his face falling as he saw her expression.

"Man," he sighed, shaking his head, "You have no idea how much I wish I could hit you with a little fun magic right now. I mean, I get it if that you're still upset about the necklace, but—"

"—Jack, I never had any issues with your using magic on me."

He stopped, a confused expression sweeping over his face. "You…" His voice trailed off, and then he looked back to her. "You didn't?"

"No! Not at all!" She sank down a little further under the covers. "It was just the fact that you didn't tell me you were."

His eyes widened a bit with the sudden realization. Then, with a nervous laugh, he looked back to her, holding her hand as he stood up. "So—you wouldn't mind if—well, if I—?"

"—Jack, I need to be able to get to sleep," Elsa said softly. "Kingdom to run, remember? I wouldn't mind a little help in the least. And there's a long day of researching Arendelle's child abuse laws in the morning, if I'm going to be able to spare Anna from having to do it."

"That's a very good point, my queen," he said softly. Jack then let go of her hand, standing next to the bed and pushing back a strand of hair from her face. "Well—have sweet dreams, I suppose. I'll see you in the morning, Snowflake."

She closed her eyes. The cool, icy feeling of his lips brushing against her forehead, followed by a wave of calm sweeping over her body, was the last thing that Elsa remembered before drifting off to sleep.

Chapter Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, everybody. GUESS WHAT. The traffic counter thingy is still broken. Thank you so much for your patience and to all of those who have given me reviews. I would really appreciate it if you'd continue! Love you all, and have a fabulous day! :D

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo, as usual

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22: THE NEXT LAYER

Jack straightened up from Elsa's bed, taking a step back. Her face was relaxed, her hair spread around her on the pillow like a halo again. The young queen was already sound asleep, her chest rising up and down, breathing steadily.

That's more like it, he thought. Get some rest, Snowflake.

He reached forward, gently pushing back another hair from Elsa's face. She was so beautiful… and she believed in him. She believed in him completely, and totally, and had promised not to ever shut him out again. And Jack Frost had a hunch that Elsa was not accustomed to making promises she didn't keep.

The Fifth Guardian reached for his medal, fingering the clasp and pulling it off of his hoodie to turn it over. With his staff in his other hand, he gently sat down on the edge of the bed again, next to Elsa, admiring the snowflake's delicate structure. It was definitely Elsa's work; its characteristic six points spiked out from a series of swirling sculpted hexagons, with all the intricate and feminine details that only she could create.

He smiled to himself, tossing it in his hand and holding it to his chest as he bowed his head forward. He didn't want to put it back on, just yet. Just feeling it, the cold, delicate ice in his hand, was so wonderful…

A distinct, golden shimmering from outside Elsa's window caught his eye.

Jack abruptly stood up, shoving the medal into his pocket, and ran over to the window, staring out into the darkness of the Scandinavian night. He then glanced back to Elsa, his face breaking into a smile, before leaping into the air and shooting through the door into the art gallery. Without once touching his feet to the ground, he flew down the hall, rushing out onto the balcony at the end of it and bursting out into the cold wind.

Right on time, Sandman.

The waves and ribbons of gold twisted through the dark canvas of the sky over Arendelle, reflecting off the black surface of the fjord and the glimmering snow of the mountains behind it. Jack, letting the wind catch up his body, blew almost instantaneously up to the top of the castle, grasping the top spike of it and spinning around.

"Hey! Sandy!" he called out. "SANDY!"

But the golden cloud moving over the castle didn't stop. The Spirit of Winter shrugged, and flung the end of his staff at the dark sky.

CRACK!

Sparkling ice shot straight up from the peak of the roof, and Jack watched as the cloud paused. The Sandman's face suddenly appeared over the edge of it, trying to locate the source of the sound. Finally, his eyes met Jack's.

Jack's face broke into a grin, and he beckoned, leaping off the edge of the roof and floating down onto Elsa's balcony. Sandy lifted his arms, and a long carpet of sand unraveled from the cloud. Jack watched as he then leapt onto it, his arms in the air, silently rushing down the slide and landing beside him.

"Hey, Sandy," Jack whispered. "I—um, I need a favor."

The Sandman raised his eyebrows in curiosity. Reaching his hand up to his golden hair, a tiny bowler hat of sand spun into existence upon his head, and he tipped it. Jack nodded, and took a step back, pushing open the door on Elsa's balcony, stepping into the art gallery.

As the door shut slowly behind them, Jack saw Sandy's eyes widen, looking at the art gallery, the rows upon row of shelves, all lined with the tiny, intricate ice sculptures. Jack laughed softly as he watched the golden thought images form above Sandy's head.

Sculpture. Hands. Shepherd's crook. Question mark? Sandy pointed to Jack.

"No, I didn't make any of these," Jack replied softly. "Well… I made one, but it's in the other room."

Question mark…? Sandy then stopped, the image fading, and looked up. With Jack watching, he then floated into the air towards one of the shelves, as if he'd seen something, with a pensive expression on his face.

"Sandy, it's—Sandy, what are you doing? That's not—" Jack's voice trailed off, watching as he floated back down to the floor.

In his tiny pale hand, the Sandman was holding a tall, thin ice statue of a boyish figure in a hoodie. The boy, with unruly hair and sharp, pointed facial features, was leaning onto a shepherd's crook, his eyebrows raised as if he were about to tell the punchline of a joke.

It was a statue of him.

Jack Frost's breath caught as he carefully took the statue from the Sandman's hands. Then, he looked back up, and realized that Sandy was hovering right in front of him.

Question mark? Question mark? QUESTION MARK?!

Jack startled slightly, then shaking his head and chuckling as he walked over to one of the shelves, putting down the statue. He then beckoned, silently leaping into the air and flying towards the end of the hall. Sandy followed as Jack passed through the door into Elsa's room, stopping at the foot of her bed.

Sandy's eyes widened, seeing the sleeping young woman, and looked back to Jack.

Letter E. Letter L. Letter S. Letter A. Crown. Arendelle crocus. Snowflake. Question mark?

"Yep. Elsa the Snow Queen," Jack whispered. "You know her?"

Snowman. Snowflake. Horse. Girl riding horse. Girl WITH braid, girl WITHOUT braid. Capelet dress. Question mark?

Jack chuckled softly under his breath. "That's Elsa, alright."

Sandy looked back to her, her hair spread out on the pillow, again. Then, he leapt up into the air with sudden excitement, silently clapping his hands and pointing between Jack and Elsa.

Snowflake. Snowman. Heart. Hands. Lips. Cupid. Jack. Elsa. Jack kissing Elsa. Jack—

"Whoa, Sandy!" Jack whispered suddenly, "It's not—I mean—okay, Elsa and I have known each other for two days, alright? Relax!"

Sandy shrugged, floating down and letting his feet rest on the floor again.

The Guardian of Fun pulled in a deep breath. "Look," he muttered carefully, "I—I'm pretty sure that Elsa just had the worst day of her life, okay? I just wanted to make sure that she has nice enough dreams tonight to allow her to get some rest."

Sandy put his finger to his sharp chin, looking thoughtful. Then, he suddenly raised his eyebrows, grinning enthusiastically, as Jack watched the images forming over his head.

Jack and Elsa holding hands. Jack and Elsa kissing. Jack holding Elsa's waist. Jack running his hands down Elsa's—

"—SANDY!" Jack hissed, his eyes bulging, "What th—WHY?"

The image abruptly burst apart, and Sandy held his stomach, buckling over in silent laughter. Jack groaned, clasping his hands together and touching his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut.

"I spend over 300 years in isolation, and nobody questions it once," he murmured with frustration, "But the instant I show an ounce of interest in a female Winter Spirit, everyone immediately assumes that I'm some sort of—! Isn't there something you can think of that's a little…um…?"

Jack's voice trailed off, his face pained again. Sandy smirked, forming another sand image above his head. Looking up, Jack startled back in shock, clapping his hand over his eyes and blushing furiously.

"LESS sexual, Sandy!" Jack choked, "Less—yeah, less like that!"

The Guardian of Dreams was holding his round little stomach again, floating about a foot off the ground and laughing hysterically. Jack Frost shook his head, his ears pink with embarrassment, and let out a bitter, nervous laugh from under his breath.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he groaned, kneading his eyebrows.

Sandy finally looked back up into Jack's pleading eyes and shrugged, shaking his head and smiling good-naturedly. He rolled his hands again, and Jack hesitantly looked up above the Sandman's head as one final image formed.

Two young girls, one with a single braid and one with pigtails, were building a snowman together in the golden sand. Jack let out a sigh of relief.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about," he exhaled. "Thanks, Sandy. I owe you one."

The Sandman laughed again, and gently pushed the dream of the girls and the snowman towards the sleeping young queen. As it floated across the room, finally coming to a stop above her head, he then turned back to Jack, the bowler hat reappearing. The Sandman tipped it, and as it spiraled back out of existence, he turned and floated from the room to resume his work over Arendelle.

.

.

Upon occasion, Jack Frost walked into the art gallery or around the room. But for the most part, he kept his vigil next to Elsa.

A few hours had past, but Jack was almost entirely oblivious to it, silently sitting on the edge of Elsa's bed. The sand children had kept playing—Sandy had given her a long, shifting, and lovely dream—but every once in a while, Jack would see the concerned wrinkle beginning to form in the young queen's brow again. Whenever this happened, he would pull an intentionally delicate snowflake from the air and guide it over to land softly on her cheek. She would relax again, and then he would, as well. Every once in a while, a tiny smile would begin to form on her lips.

Jack did love that smile.

"So, that's what you were like as a kid…" he mused quietly, staring at the sand children in the dream. "I knew you had some fun bottled up somewhere inside of you. It's just been buried a bit deep… hasn't it?"

He gently reached up to her face, pushing back another blonde hair onto the pillow. He then shook his head, smiling, as he watched her expression.

"It's okay," he continued softly. "You and I—we're going to dig it up again. That's what I'm good at, remember?"

Elsa didn't respond, sleeping soundly, that same hint of a smile on her lips as the sand children played over her head. Jack shook his head, laughing gently under his breath.

"I really could tell you anything, right now… couldn't I?"

She was still breathing regularly, blissfully oblivious to the outside world. Jack pulled in a deep breath, leaning onto his staff from the edge of her bed.

"I'm not going to say I'm in love with you," he started softly, "Because—well, it's only been two days. I'm not crazy. But you should probably know that I've already decided that you're about the most amazing person I've ever met. And that's saying something."

He chuckled under his breath.

"Mother of North, this is easier to tell you when you're asleep," he admitted quietly. "I wish it could be this easy when you're awake. I guess I—well, I'm glad you asked me to stay, because I don't want to leave. I never really did."

Jack absent-mindedly spun his staff on the ground again, repositioning himself of the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes.

"And the funniest—worst—part about all of it?" he choked, leaning his forehead against the shepherd's crook, "You don't even realize how incredible you are. Everything you say, everything you do. It's always about Arendelle, or your sister, or—it's never about you. It's always about other people. I mean, it's just—"

Suddenly, there was a loud whooshing sound, and wind started to blow around them in the room. Jack stopped abruptly, leaping to his feet and kicking his staff into his hands. As he saw a spiraling hole of colors begin to form on the side of the room next to the Snow Queen's dresser, his face drained of color. He lowered the staff slightly, realizing what was going on, and kneaded his eyebrows.

Seriously?

The portal spiraled larger and larger, and Jack hastily blew a snowflake towards Elsa, silently begging her to stay asleep as the colors and wind grew stronger. Then, just as the sand children were about to fade completely from the air, breaking the dream, Jack leapt into the air as North stumbled out of the portal into the room.

"JACK FRO—MMPH!"

"Keep it down, will you?" Jack hissed, clapping his hand over North's mouth.

He let go, turning around in the air and glancing worriedly back to Elsa. She hadn't woken up. Letting out a sigh of relief, Jack sank back down onto the floor, his toes sinking into the rich carpet again as North raised his eyebrows.

Keeping an eye on Elsa, the Youngest Guardian backed up, gesturing for North to follow him. He did so, as the portal shrank and faded into nothingness again, and Jack silently opened the door to the art gallery. They stepped inside, and North closed the door behind them.

Click.

Jack whipped around, beginning to pace up and down the hallway of the gallery.

"So, what do you think I've done this time?" he gritted, "If this is about that stupid thing with the necklace, it was an accident, I swear—!"

"Jack—"

"—Or the fact that I was by her bed? I will have you know that Elsa asked me to stay there. So I'm staying."

"Jack—"

"—Or that thing with Sandy! That was his idea, not mine, alright? Is it my fault that he's trying to torture me?"

"JACK, YOU ARE STILL ON NICE LIST," North finally said loudly.

Jack paused, turning around. "Wait—what?"

North chuckled under his breath, his belly shaking. "I am not here to condemn you, Jack Frost," he said, then dropping his voice to a whisper. "I am here to tell you how much more respect I've gained for you since sending you here."

Jack's eyes widened, taking a step back in shock. North shook his head and walked up to him, putting his enormous hand on Jack's shoulder.

"I saw what happened today," North started quietly. "She chose to stop believing in you. And, that you went back to protect her anyway."

There was a moment of silence.

Jack looked down, gripping his staff, as he struggled for words. Finally, staring at the floor, he shook his head, and looked back up. "North," he stammered, "I—"

"—I know." North stepped back, crossing his enormous arms over his chest. "You don't think it's big deal."

"Because it isn't—"

"—It is."