"Hi there!"

The book in her hands froze solid. She clutched it to herself as she whirled.

"Whoa, whoa! I guess that makes you Elsa?"

She nodded slowly, looking up at the stranger. He looked nice enough, she supposed, but one of her recent classes in queenliness had been about men who looked nice enough.

Then she noticed that he was standing outside her window. Her room was not on the first floor.

"Ah," he said, "You got me."

Another of her recent classes in queenliness had been how to ask wordless questions.

He laughed, which sounded pleasant, but irritated her because it wasn't an answer.

"How are you doing that?"

Her voice was quiet and shy, but calm. She was going to make an excellent queen, he could tell these things. A few hundred years of wandering around the world gave you a broad skillset.

"The wind!" he said, which wasn't an answer either. Then he started explaining, "My boss told me to find you. We'd started hearing news of freak snowstorms- ah...sorry."

She had flinched at the word "freak".

"Anyway, I'm here to teach you!"

"Teach me?"

He grinned and pointed his staff at her - her father's warnings flashed through her head - but all she felt was the texture under her hands changing. She gasped and looked down. The ice was retreating from the book in her arms, leaving it unharmed.

She looked back up at him wordlessly, her eyes shining.

"Hi there!"

Both of them whirled to look at him. Yep, the resemblance was striking. At least they didn't freeze anything.

"Are you Elsa's parents?"

They looked at him as if they had never before in their lives been called that, but eventually one of them said, "Yes, of course."

The other added, "Generally we go by 'Your Highnesses.'"

"Ah, well, I'm really bad at formalities, so can I just call you 'Elsa's dad' and 'Elsa's mom'?"

"Absolutely not," said Elsa's dad.

Elsa's mom added, "After all, we're also Anna's parents."

Elsa's dad rolled his eyes at her. Then he gave their strange white-haired teenaged intruder a serious look. "We are the King and Queen of Arendelle. You may address us as such."

"'King Arendelle' and 'Queen Arendelle'? Sure, why not. Anyway, let's get to the point here. You're probably wondering who I am. My name is Jack Frost. Have you heard of me?"

He tried to suppress the usual bubble of hope/fear/longing that rose up in him as he asked that question, and of course failed utterly.

"We have read fairytales, of course." The king's voice was measured.

"Oh, right. You want proof."

Jack curled one hand into a fist and then opened it palm up, revealing a shining snowflake. It spun for a second, reflecting the light, and then burst into a sparkling white firework, dusting his hand with snow.

"I was sent here to teach your daughter how to control her powers. Are you okay with that?"

They looked at each other, then at him.

He grinned at them.

"Whoa!"

He stepped to the side as a small blur of red barreled around the corner.

"I've got you now!" it yelled at - as far as he could tell - an empty hallway.

The blur turned out to be a small child, who came to a screeching halt in front of one of the paintings. The girl pointed at it dramatically. "They think I stole that cookie jar, but I can't even lift it, so it must have been you!"

Jack laughed.

She whirled on the spot, somehow managing to tangle her legs in the process. She fell forward with a startled "Oof!"

"Hey there," he said from where he was, knowing better than to try to help a spitfire up. "Are you Anna?"

She bounced to her feet with a cheery expression. "Yep! Who are you? Ooh, you're pretty. What's that staff? Are you staying in the castle? Can we play?"

"Hm, let's see. Do you play with your sister a lot?"

The cheery expression immediately turned downcast. "No, I haven't seen her in a long time. I go talk to her door but she doesn't answer." Anna looked about to cry.

"Aw, cheer up. Let's go get her now. Did you used to play with her? What's your favorite memory?"

"We used to build snowmen!"

"Perfect! Let's go do that."

She just looked at him.

"Huh? What?"

In the superior tone of a child who knows better than you, she informed him, "It's spring!"

They built some snowmen.