He was not mad. By far the least he was from mad, but rather sane in the sense of someone to know they were not mad. If a man where to claim himself sane, and only the mad would claim themselves sane, then the man would be without a doubt mad. However, he claimed himself mad long ago and therefore made the argument invalid, he was sane. So would a mad person claim himself sane over memories of the past? Should he be labeled to a title for thoughts that once dwelled into the darkness of his mind, all to avoid the torment that it once brought, burying the freshness alive against his subconscious?
He was not mad. He was drunk with sanity. He knew that the moment he laid first glance upon her eyes. Not just eyes of fear-oh no- but eyes of beauty and nostalgia from centuries ago. Blue eyes that glimmered beyond someone such as Jack Frost, being the winter spirit that he was. It was beyond him how she managed to survive; yet there she was, in all grace and beauty of similarity when he first loved her.
His dear Elizabeth Pitchiner. His dear beloved wife, Elizabeth Pitchiner.
For so long he missed her, and not just his beloved daughter Seraphina -to which he sometimes would call her Emily Jane- though the thought of her as well etched daggers within his deadbeat heart. A dead heart in which now beats without any source of breath.
This woman was most certainly his beloved. The grace, the poise, the softness in her thin lips, and her fair overall complexion, drew him actually. How he missed the details of everything that he once could touch, comfort, and hold with care.
Still, even with every reason to see her, he just could not, now at the moment though. He would not dare interrupt her, as she somehow becomes Queen of a kingdom called Arendelle. A fitting placement considering the current status of his own power; King of Nightmares.
Even with so much beauty and love he knew she would give him once he reveals himself to still be alive, to still be well enough, he still unfortunately could not get over her fear. Her fear was just as lovely as her proclaim skin. It was nearly hard to control himself from venturing into her possible nightmares, to dig deep beneath that beautiful mind of her to get a whiff of both her superficial scent and emotional scent of fear.
She would understand though. She was his wife after all, one that had not aged a day both physically and personality, and would accept him. She would accept him for who he was and allow him into her fears. She would because she loved him, just as he loved-no, loves her. She loves him just as he loves her. It would not change. It should not change. It did not change. It will not change.
When she turned around to face the guest in her coronation dress, he could have sworn she was looking at him. She must have seen him! Did she recognize him? Probably not since he was hidden within the shadows that overtook the back. How she tensed up and starring at his general direction was misleading though. For a moment she remembered him. Of course she would remember him, he was her only husband. Sure it had taken him to see her to finally remember her, but there was no doubt that she would remember him when seeing him also.
Maybe he should reveal himself? He could see everyone dancing and even though he despised the positive atmosphere, being a creature that enjoyed the darkness, would withstand such appalling scenery to dance with his wife. Make them all envious when he mysteriously intrudes the party to be the first and only one to dance with the Queen of their small kingdom. Intimidated by his appearance, but envious at his relationship with his marriage, they would only watch as he gracefully pull her to the center floor and merge both of their bodies in a close waltz. But alas, they would not be able to see him, but he knew she would. She would because she was his wife.
Aha! So that was how she managed to survive that long; his wife was a controller of Winter. Jack Frost was immortal so she must be too, right? The idea of that neutral party Jack Frost being even similar to his beloved wife disgusted him. He just wanted to tear out those powers of her that relates to such nuisance. However, he was a forgiving man and would give her the benefit of the doubt. She has no relationship with the boy. He was too young for the Queen anyway, so there was no need to be over thinking of how she got powers of the ice.
He watched her as her back was pressed against the wall, staring in such fearfulness that he almost swept in to carry her off her feet to feed. He kept himself stabled luckily as she bolted out of the castle after her powers where revealed. Her heels parted as fast as they could across the water turning everything to ice. She was most definitely amazing, even in her kindness to not hurt them she spread fear. She spread fear for him. She is spreading fear for him because she knew he was there. It was a sign of devotion and love.
They would not hurt her. He would not let them hurt her, for as much as he enjoyed suffering as the pure fear that the entire kingdom emitted, meant little to his dead heart that somehow yearned for her. There were plenty of kingdoms to spread fear, and he did not need her, though as sweet as if was for her to do, to spread it. She needed not to worry about making him strong by spreading fear because he could do it himself just as good, if not better.
He needed to see her. He needed to talk to her. He missed her for so long without knowing how much he missed her. The moment he had realized how much his heart yearned for his beloved Elizabeth was the moment his mind set in a new goal; to take back his beloved Elizabeth, to take back his wife by any means necessary.
The fear was slowly increasing even with him distancing himself from the kingdom. The fear that she placed among them for him was indeed strong, a sign that only someone who truly loved another would do. He would do the same. He would burn everything set in his path, despite his hatred for the light, just to ensure that no one touches her. In fact… he did not want anyone to even look at her. She was most certainly beautiful, in fact too beautiful, and probably attracted the attention of many potential suitors. The swine! How dare they touch a woman that was married, especially one that was married to the King of Nightmares, and Lord of Darkness.
The very thought of them soiling her skin, one that only he should taint, with their filthy hands. He could care less if they wore those damn white gloves. They should know their place, and it was on their knees, both in fear and respect, towards the wife of the King of Nightmares. No one other than himself could taint, and snuff out the purity and light that lingered still brightly within his wife.
It was not out of malice, but out of love. If anyone had to destroy the light that is in her heart it should be her husband. It would not stop her from loving him, because even when he pulls her to the darkness she would still be the same. Even if he dragged her to the depths of his Pitch Black world she would still feel the same for him, because he still feels the same way for her.
After all, she was his Queen of Nightmares and Lady of Darkness.