Okay, so honestly, I don't know if I will continue this story. I just put down 3 chapters because they were on my mind. I don't have a plan for it or know where it is going. If something else comes to mind, I'll continue.
the first 2 chapters are short because I was just getting into it
I dont own any of the Frozen or Rise of the Guardian Characters.
The sun had just set in the world beyond her window. Elsa paced frantically back and forth in her room that was frozen with snow and ice. Her mother shivered slightly from the cold and her father took a step towards her.
"I'm scared. It's getting stronger." The twelve year old girl said, holding her gloved hands to her chest.
"Getting upset only makes it worse." The king said, moving to hug his daughter in the only way he knew to console her.
Elsa stepped back quickly, her eyes going wide, "No. Don't touch me. I don't want to hurt you." She said hastily.
The king looked to his wife, both with sadness in their eyes.
Elsa's mother stepped over to the desk, where she had set a book down when Elsa had frozen the wall. She lifted it and brought it to her daughter.
"Elsa, please, calm down. Let me show you something." The brunette said.
The young blonde opened her mouth to protest, but her mother cut her off, "I will not touch you if that would make you feel better."
Elsa shut her mouth and nodded slowly, glancing to her father. He stood from where he had been crouched to hug her and then moved to the desk to sit down.
The queen beckoned for her daughter to follow her to the bed, where she sat and opened the book. Elsa followed, but perched lightly on the edge of her bed, far enough from her mother not to touch her but close enough to see the pages.
"I found this book on Norse mythology, and I believe it will help you find some comfort in your powers." The Queen began, obviously taking a different approach than the king's 'conceal don't feel' one.
"Here is the story on Old Man Winter, or, also known as, Jack Frost. He is the embodiment of winter itself." The Queen held the book towards Elsa so that she may take it and look through the story.
Elsa took it delicately, taking special precautions not to touch her mother. The page held bold letters that wrote: Old Man Winter. Below that was a picture depicting a man on a horse made of pure icicles, leaving a blizzard trail behind it. The man was older, his hair and beard were made of thick snow and his clothing was dripping icicles. In her hand he held a staff that was twisted like wood but made of chiseled ice.
"How is a myth supposed to help me?" The girl asked, her ice blue eyes looking up into her mother's slate ones.
"Well, I just thought, that maybe he wasn't a myth." Her daughter's confused look made her elaborate, "Well, we have magical rock trolls and a daughter with magic ice powers giving at birth. So is it so hard to believe that maybe a winter spirit may exist? What if he was born like you? And he just uses his powers to help winter along?"
"But it says her that he's immortal. I'm not immortal, am I?" Elsa's pupils dilated in fear, as her shaking finger pointed to the word. Forever locked in this room?
"No, sweetheart, you're not." Her mother reached to comfort her daughter, but immediately recoiled her hand as Elsa leaned away, "But maybe he was born with that power too. I'm just saying, maybe if you had someone to believe in, someone that can control their ice powers, it would help you." The queen smiled softly, "Maybe one day he will come to you and teach you all he knows."
Elsa looked to her father. His green eyes were soft as he gave a short nod in agreement.
She looked back to the book in her hands and nodded to herself, "Jack Frost…" she whispered as she ran her hand across the page.