AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh my goodness. It has been forever since I have posted a story. Last time was, what, two years ago? Anyway, I am completely appalled with my first story. My writing has improved drastically over the past year, and I am hoping that this one will be more successful. Also, Jelsa! This is a first taste introducing the story, and if all goes well, I will be uploading more!

Elsa (c) Disney

Jack Frost (c) Dreamworks

For the Guardian of Fun, the dull, November night seemed endless. This, he thought, was definitely not fun. Jack Frost lazily floated above forests and seas, anxiously awaiting the break of day. Searching for adventure, perhaps. Or at least something to do.

What day was it? Tuesday? Wednesday? Jack didn't know or care. Being immortal meant having a lot of time. To do nothing, that is. Jack had enough time to allow seconds, minutes and days skim through his fingers like running water. But at the moment, it seemed like time had decided to sluggishly slow its pace. And Jack simply couldn't stand it anymore. He went through a mental checklist of the things he could do to kill some time. Skim stones? Check. Build a snowman? Been there. Fly above half the freaking continent? Done that. It was only until he had reached an unknown kingdom when the Spirit of Winter decided that, perhaps, his evening wasn't going to be so tedious after all.

The town was secluded, and Jack assumed that everyone was asleep. But even with no one out, Jack could picture the liveliness that inhabited this town during the day. He imagined children, running up and down streets, playing, tripping, getting cuts and bruises, but laughing nevertheless. Warm smiles and friendly greetings passing from neighbour to neighbour. Jack smiled to himself, reminded of the little village he used to live in when he was still, well, mortal. After looking around for a while, however, something else caught his eye.

His attention was immediately drawn to the breathtaking palace in the west of the town. Its towering turrets adorned with bright coloured patterns seemed to glow in the moonlight. And the banners that bore the kingdom's crest were draped boldly over balconies and gates. But despite the merry feeling of the palace, something seemed, well…off. As if the exterior appearance of the castle was masking what truly lay inside. Maybe it was a gut feeling, or maybe Jack was plainly being stupid, but for some reason, he knew that something was wrong. He was immediately intrigued. Curiosity overwhelming him, Jack flew to the nearest, largest, floor-to-ceiling window, which happened to be integrated stagnantly to a wall behind a rounded balcony. He landed on the platform and peered inside.

On the other side of the glass, Jack saw three figures: a man, a woman, and a baby- the dim candle light illuminated the room so that Jack could vaguely make out their features. He obviously didn't need to hide- he doubted this family had even heard of the guardians. The guardians hadn't ever mentioned this strange, European kingdom before, after all. Jack squinted, attempting to get a better view of what was going on inside. The woman was sobbing, the baby in her arms, and the man was pacing around the room with a panicked look on his face. Jack soon began to back away from the window. The more he watched, the more confusing the scene became. The more he witnessed, the more he felt like he was trespassing, or invading the family's privacy.

As he turned to leave, the man opened the window and stepped outside. Now, Jack could get a better look at him. His strawberry-blond hair was plastered to his forehead, and beads of sweat trickled down his nose and, strangely, cheeks. But as Jack leaned in for a closer look, he noticed that the wetness on his cheeks wasn't sweat- it was tears. The man rested his tired arms on the balcony railing and let out an exasperated sigh, face in his palms. After a while, he tilted his head up and gazed at the large, pale moon behind Jack and began to mutter what sounded like a silent prayer.

" Oh, moon. Oh beautiful, pristine moon. I pray to you in the hopes of aiding me like you did all those years ago. My daughter, she…"

The man choked on a sob, but carried on.

"Oh, moon! I don't think my daughter is breathing. She has no pulse, no heave in her chest. She is not wailing or crying like a usual newborn. I pray to you. Please."

And with that, the man entered the room yet again. He was wise in many ways, however, to have prayed to the moon. Because in the light of the stars, a certain Guardian was prepared to set things right. After the man had finished speaking, things began to click in Jack's mind. Like pieces of a puzzle. Like two loops of thread being sewn together. It all made sense.

The man was also wise to have left the window open, because cool air was not the only thing that crept its way into the room.

The chamber had quite an eerie feel, yet Jack could see signs of what was once a cozy living space: the crackling fire in the fireplace, the comfortable pillows, the thick-quilted bed, the large armchairs, the dim lights. However, Jack knew that the bedroom would never be able to grant him with the sense of comfort, as too much pain was seen in the couple's eyes; there was too much tensity in their muscles, their frames too hunched, and their hearts in too much agony. They almost seemed out of place, their bodies contrasting their surroundings. With their presence in the room, everything seemed somewhat off.

With caution, Jack stopped looking around the room and gradually made his way towards the baby in her mother's arms. He assessed her face, as if trying to integrate her into his mind. In all his years, he had never seen a more beautiful baby. She had soft, brown hair, a little long for a baby such as herself. Her eyes where closed shut, but Jack wondered what alluring orbs lay behind those lids. Her small fist lay upon her soft cheek, and Jack noticed that her skin was oddly pale, like the petals of a lily flower. And that's when realisation hit him like a brick wall. He understood at once why he was so drawn to the baby. She looked exactly like his own little sister, when he first lay eyes on her. Jack had only been around eight, yet the memory of her smiling face was still vivid.

"Okay" Jack whispered to himself. "Where do I start…?"

For a while, Jack merely stood there, pondering what he could possibly do to help her, but there was nothing he could think of.

In the end, Jack came up with a crazy idea, and immediately regretted thinking of such a thing. But there didn't seem to be anything else to do, and he saw his sister in this girl; he couldn't just leave her. Not again.

Closing his eyes, he rubbed his hands together, and gently hovered one hand above the baby's forehead as another clenched his staff. He took a deep breath and prepared himself, both physically and mentally. After a slight moment of hesitation, he willed the magic from his wintry staff to course through him with more care than usual. He could soon feel the familiar, light sensation within as he conjured up more magic. A gentle and oddly satisfying tingle ran down his arm. Pushing some of the energy out of his fingertips, he closed his eyes. He felt more and more magic pour out of him, spilling from his fingers. He felt the room grow significantly colder, and though he forced himself not to open his eyes, he couldn't help but sneak a glimpse through his shut eyelids; what he saw took his breath away.

"Wow," he murmured to himself, gazing in awe around the room. Icy tendrils of snow and mist had engulfed him and the baby, as if they were the centre piece of vibrant acrylic canvas, or the ringmaster in the middle of a circus tent. Dazzling spurts of white and blue and silver flashed before his eyes and crystalline snowflakes drifted around, dancing amongst it all. Before he knew it, Jack felt a surge of pure ecstasy fill him from head to toe. He didn't know why, but it was as if- as if he was connecting to happiness itself, like he was brushing against a bundle of joy. Looking at the man and woman in the room, he noticed that they hadn't seemed fazed by the instant winter that he had conjured up. Didn't they notice the cold, the snow, the magic? Whatever, Jack thought. All he wanted to do was live in this wondrous moment. He took a deep breath and inhaled the cool crisp air surrounding them, unaware of the strong link forming between him and the being beneath his touch. The space between Jack's hand and the baby began to glow, gradually intensifying until the glow was not a glow- it was a piercing white light that even Jack couldn't ignore. He snapped out of his reverie and gasped as the light blasted through the room, filling it with a blinding screen of white. Jack shut his eyes tight, and the feeling of delight that had just dwelled within him had vanished in a second.

He gasped and drew his hand away from the baby at an alarming speed, dropping the staff and bringing the enchanted snowfall to an end. Cold sweat began forming on his forehead. Had he harmed the baby? Why was she silent? If his little trick had worked, shouldn't she be crying or wailing or giving a sign of life or something? The light soon died down and Jack felt the icy touch on his skin leave at once, yet he wouldn't open his eyes, afraid of what he would see if he did. He couldn't believe what he'd just done. The guilt he felt was palpable, and tasted hot and vile on his tongue. North would never forgive him from this. Heck, Jack knew he wouldn't even forgive himself. He had gotten carried away. He had let himself forget about the baby, and now she was probably laying cold and dead in her mother's arms. Never would she walk. Never would she talk. The baby would not even get the chance to have a mere taste of life, just because Jack had been too caught up in…

His panicked thoughts were immediately shattered as an innocent giggle rung through his ears. His eyelids flittered open in surprise as he turned towards the source of the wonderful sound. Jack sighed in relief and gave a little whoop: his attempts to revitalise the baby with his magic hadn't failed!

The first thing that struck him was her eyes. The stunning sapphire blue momentarily disorientated him, as he was lost in the beauty of her orbs. He could almost faintly see snowflakes behind her thick lashes, and curiously, Jack wondered whether or not he had done more than just bring life back to the baby. But those thoughts were abandoned as he noticed her chest rising and falling as sweet, sweet air filled her small lungs. She was definitely alive, breathing. And that was not the only thing that changed about her: her chestnut-brown hair started to become lighter and lighter, changing colour from the tips to the roots, until it reached a very pale champagne-blonde colour. This new change was not disheartening: the hue went beautifully with her pallor. Her skin was somewhat glowing against the darkness of the room, alive with magic. Jack smiled. He could hardly believe that he had actually done something good for once.

Her stare held, and it seemed like the baby was beaming…at him. He shook his head, knowing it was impossible. This baby had just been born; she wouldn't have ever heard of magic or guardians or anything of the sort. Yet with a small giggle, she placed her small hand on Jack's nose. He almost jumped back in surprise, astonished that the baby could see him and now touch him, yet her enthralling gaze kept him glued to the spot. She giggled again, this time catching her parents' attention. Their faces lit up immediately, and Jack realised that he had restored happiness in their lives again. His job was done.

"She lives! She lives!" They yelled in a chorus of happy tears and excitable relief.

The woman lifted her the baby up and away from Jack. She spun around with the baby in her grasp, singing and dancing and filled with joy.

"She lives! Princess Elsa of Arandelle!"

Jack muttered the name under his breath. Elsa. What an enchanting and fitting name. The twirling and laughing continued as Jack showed himself out through the window, slightly melancholic. Though he was sad to leave the baby, he somehow got a strange feeling that he would encounter her again; whether it be in a year, five, or ten. Jack instinctively knew that him and Elsa would cross paths in the future. At least, he hoped they would. He turned back to take one last glance at the bedroom chamber, which had become a happy blur of colour and singing and laughter. Yet he still noticed the two familiar, big blue eyes staring at him past the colours and past the window's glass, piercing through his own. He smiled to himself.

"I'll never forget you, Elsa" he muttered as he jumped of the balcony railing and flew into the night.

But what the guardian didn't know was that he'd created a magical and mutual bond with the little princess, bestowing her with something more wondrous and intriguing than life itself: ice magic.