Hello lovely readers!
I'm Aelfeth. Nice to meet you!
About the story: I came up with this Jelsa (Jack Frost x Elsa) Phantom of the Opera AU after a post on Tumblr. Oh, I'm aelfethart there, by the way. Check it out for sketches and fanart of this story!
This is my first fanfiction ever. I hope you enjoy the reading, and that you let me know! ;)
~ PROLOGUE - Part I ~
The place was silent enough for the sad echo of an anguished weeping to be heard. It was very dark outside, almost midnight, and the light of the chimney's flames dimly illuminated the spacious room. Sitting in an armchair that looked towards the large windows, there were a man and a small child.
The little girl curled up within her father's arms. She laid her cheek upon the man's chest, feeling some relief in the soft movement of his respiration. The man whispered to her.
"Shhh… Do not cry anymore, my dear," he laid a kiss on top of the girl's head, trying to sooth her tears. "Everything is going to be alright."
The child weakly shook her head against his body in negation.
"Oh yes, it will. And crying will not fix anything; it would only make you sadder. I prefer when you sing", the man continued.
He made an effort to not show his own worry for the sake of the child. He had spent most of the past night awake, and truth was, he didn't know what was going to happen, but her daughter's tears only broke his heart even more.
"I want her back…" the child sobbed. "I am so sorry… I didn't mean to…"
He tightened his embrace at these words.
"Shhh… You will see her soon" he whispered. "She will be okay."
The intensity of her sob started to decrease slowly at his words.
In the contiguous room, a small group of doctors examined a toddler with signs of a very strange hypothermia. The child's mother did not separate from her since the accident, but after two days of useless remedies she began to succumb to despair, as all the blankets and remedies in the castle would not make the cold could go away from her daughter's small body.
However, these were no regular doctors. Desperate to find a solution to her daughter's extraordinary malady, all kinds of quacks and healers were summoned in a frantic attempt to save the little princess' life.
The Queen looked at them in suspense, waiting for a diagnosis. Dressed in an unusual fashion, they surrounded the child in a way she could barely see her daughter. Her sight turned for moment towards a small kid that sat down on a chair, not very far from them, waiting shyly for the adults to finish their task. His blond hair fell down his face as he looked to his feet, taking care of the bags filled with concoctions and strange devices.
After a long while examining the symptoms, the eldest of the group, an old and slightly hunchbacked man, finally glanced at the regal woman. She stood up immediately, her face covered by a veil of fret.
"…So?" her voice trembled.
In the adjacent room, the little princess' weeping seemed to have stopped.
"Little Lotte let her mind wander. Little Lottie thought: Am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or shoes?" the king recited in a low voice.
He was trying to make her daughter smile by telling her –yet again– stories of the North, as he used to do before the girls went to sleep.
"Or of riddles or frocks?" he said in a funny tone while wiping away the last of his daughter's tears. "Or of chocolates?"
"…Chocolates" whispered then the little girl.
The King looked at her with a broken smile.
"Do you want chocolates, my dear?" he asked, combing her platinum blonde hair back in place with his fingers.
Elsa nodded vaguely. Her father kissed her forehead.
"Very well. I'll call Gerda and she'll bring you som-"
The sound of the door opening behind them cut his sentence. The man glanced back over the armchair and saw Kai, his servant. Before he could even speak, the King of Arendelle lifted his daughter in his arms and headed towards the door, understanding what his presence meant.
"Here, Kai will give you some chocolates" the man said, looking at his servant's eyes, gesturing to make Kai do as he said while handing the princess to him.
Elsa embraced the loyal servant, but stared at her father with sadness when he rushed to the next room.
When he opened the door, he met his wife's teary eyes.
And her smile of relief.
"The baby girl was lucky. She was only hit on her head, which can be cured. If it was her heart…" the old man mumbled rather casually, while he focused on finding something from his old leather bag.
The royal couple glanced at each other and then at little Anna, carefully tucked up on her mother's arms now. "She'll be fine" he stated, handing them a small crystal bottle filled with a somewhat thick, greenish-glittering substance.
"For the recovery" he added, and the King took the medicament. "The princess' illness will disappear at the pace of the waning crescent. She'll be fully recovered by the new moon."
"How did you know how to treat my daughter?" the Queen asked. "She was the only one to suffer such-" her voice trailed off there.
"I'm no physician, but I do know that to treat sickness you must know what caused them on the first place" the King began to say, "so I can assume you know what caused my daughter's malady".
Mr. Pabbie looked at him. "Yes, your Majesty. I do." he nodded. "But, was it the result of a gift… or a curse?"
"A gift, most definitely" the man replied, no shade of doubt in his assertion. "Please. We must know the origin of it."
"If your daughter is the gift, you'll find the answers within these very walls," the elder stated, "for you are the heir of such knowledge."
The old man kept silence, but it did not last long. The King suddenly realized what the words of Mr. Pabbie indicated.
"Wait… You just said my daughter was the gift. Do you mean there's somebody out there who is the curse? And what does that even imply?"
The king stared at the old man, whose big black eyes subtlety suggested he knew more than he spoke.
"As I said, your Majesty, all you need to know is marked on old parchment in the language of your ancestors. I can't really say anything else" Mr. Pabbie then looked for something more on his old leather bag.
"We were lucky to find you nearby, but what if this happens again?" the Queen intervened.
As if he had anticipated the woman's worry, the man took a pendant with a small glowing crystal in its end from his bag, and proceeded to put it around the little princess' neck.
"This will prevent any harm from that magic, as long as it doesn't hit the heart." Then he moved back, summoning his silent companions. A woman approached to the little boy sitting in the chair, who then began to pack everything, ready to leave the place.
"How can we ever pay you? Ask what you wish for; if it is in our hands, it's yours" the Queen said, tightening the grip to her baby princess.
Mr. Pabbie glanced at one of his female companions, Bulda, who stood next to the small boy.
She looked at the child.
