Disclaimers—not mine, regrettably. I have a trained bloodhound on the trail of the owners, however, so at some point I may be able to make of movie of this fanfic. If only my dogs would stop bringing me back newspapers…
Chapter One—Snowflakes
It's been said that happy endings don't truly exist. While the ending to one aspect of a story may be happy, there is never a true ending to a story. After the adventure is done, the wrinkles have been smoothed out, and the villains defeated, life carries on.
So it was to Queen Elsa, on the day this story begins. She was standing out on the balcony of her palace, watching her breath morph into a cloud of cold vapor on every exhale. She'd been standing there for hours now, staring at the gate of her castle, since her sister had left.
Anna needed space. Her story right now was a happy one, a Greek comedy; she had a husband who loved her and a home. Since learning how to act around people, she had discovered she had a knack for interacting with others. Most people treasured their conversations with her; she was open, honest, and occasionally awkward. She was a breath of fresh air in the normally stagnant dealings between countries.
Elsa had pushed aside her need to protect Anna and had appointed her ambassador, as well as co-advisor. There wasn't anyone she needed by her side more than her best friend and sister.
That didn't stop the loneliness, the fear that sat, tempestuous, in Elsa sometimes. The loneliness was born of years of feeling different. The fear had the same root—it was a fear that the different would take over and reduce the world to a cold waste. The loneliness and the fear were not constants, of course—they were tempered by the love. Love, Elsa's saving grace. The knowledge that her sister and her people loved her was enough to make the darker things go away.
Elsa stretched one long, fair arm out into the air, over the empty space. This balcony was her favorite. It was several stories up and spacious. The direction is faced meant that there was always a warm breeze sweeping past and over it. She felt that breeze then, tugging gently at her dress, hair and extended fingers. She twisted those fingers a little and felt the cold under her skin loose itself into the air. A handful of beautiful, glittering snowflakes danced around her palm in a mini blizzard. She sighed and felt the tickle of exhaled ice crystals. She held her hand as still as possible and the snowflakes froze in place, suspended in the air. When she was distracted by the sudden cold a moment later, she let them fall, gently, to the ground.
The cold came like a sheet. It swept over her not from the outside in, but from the inside out. She spun around, hands already held up in a defensive maneuver. She held them there at the intruder, but didn't fire yet.
The intruder was a lithe boy. He looked to be around Anna's age. He wore brown pants, a blue sweatshirt, and a smirk. He had white hair like Elsa's. He was leaning nonchalantly on a tall wooden staff. Elsa could feel the cold radiating off of him, like the reverse of a space heater.
"Who are you?" Elsa demanded. He didn't look as though he would be too much of a problem to handle, but she eyed the door anyway. If she screamed, guards would be at her side almost instantly.
"A friend, I suppose." He stood up and started walking around the room, swinging his staff absently. She cringed when it veered close to a vase. "I met Kristoff a while back, and he mentioned I should stop in and introduce myself. I was in the neighborhood, so. . . "
He stuck out his hand for her to shake. "I'm Jack Frost."
That took her aback. She'd heard of a Jack Frost when she was little, but there was no telling if this was that Jack Frost, or a different one, or if this guy was using Jack Frost as a pseudonym. She shoved her concern and curiosity aside for a moment and shook the offered hand.
"Queen Elsa." She introduced herself, despite being quite sure he already knew that. "You know Kristoff?" She hinted, trying to discover why he was there.
"Yes. Well, actually, he knew a friend of mine, who told him about me, and Kristoff said that Anna, who I guess is your sister, he said her sister had a similar gift. He said we should meet, and when I was blowing through here a few minutes ago I noticed that there was a cold patch a little bit north of here, with a really nice house, and someone told me it was yours. I didn't realize until then that the Snow Queen Elsa was the person Kristoff had been talking about, because he only refered to you as 'Anna's sister who makes cold things'. So I snuck in to meet you." He finished, then smiled, as if that explained everything. Meanwhile, Elsa's head was spinning.
"What?" All she had managed to glean from that was that Jack Frost knew Kristoff, and that he had seen her ice palace. She opened her mouth to interrogate, ahem, inquire further, but he was quicker.
"I make snow too. my friend, a king who lives a bit away in—" he waved his hand roughly south "—That direction, knows Kristoff. Kristoff, who is always bragging about Anna, mentioned you. I thought birds of a feather should flock together, or whatever." He shrugged and walked out onto her balcony.
"You make snow, too." Elsa repeated quietly. A small flicker of flame, a happy little light, lit up in her stomach. She wasn't alone.
"Yeah." He waved his hand around, and made a few small piles of fluffy snow fall onto the floor. He looked down at them with his eyebrows knitted, like it had just occurred to him that she may not want a puddle of icy water on the floor of her balcony room. Elsa quickly held her hand out, palm facing the pile, and shot a blast of crisp air at it. The pile swept right out of the room and off the balcony. He looked pleased, then uncomfortable.
"I can't tell you how I got my power." He said shortly. Her eyebrows shot up.
"Why?"
"Because . . . I'm not really sure. I just can't. It's against some obscure rule."
"Who's rule?" She pushed.
"Nobody's. Not important. The point is, I can't give you any answers about that, and I don't want any of yours."
"Then what do you want?" Elsa needed to know.
"I just want a friend!" He blurted.
That threw her for a moment. He wanted a friend. Here was another person who wouldn't judge her for being different, for being cold.
"Me too." She said calmly, and they shared a tentative smile.
Author's note-This is short. I'm jumping right in there. If you like, give me some feedback. I've already got this sketched out to, oh, around chapter five, but posting will be quicker and higher priority if you respond.
Tobi.