I woke up in a tree... okay, I know what you're thinking, "Jeeze, Jack, you may be a loner but that doesn't mean your homeless right?!"
And well yeah, of course I technically have a 'home' it's just... elsewhere..
Oh boo! That's not my point!
Anyway, So I woke up in a tree and I couldn't recall why. It wasn't exactly the nicest bark to have my face imprinted with, and I was stiff as an icicle.
Hopping down I had a look around and then remembered where I was.
"Elsa..." I whispered.
Note to any other guys out there, when you randomly fall in love with a crazy ice lady who sprouts living monsters from her hands, make sure to keep on her bodyguards' good side... or fear the wrath.
I don't even know why that "Marshmallow" guy even hates me! I haven't done anything yet, just hovering around... staring at the queen... like a total loser...
Darnit, even those darn Yetties are nicer on the whiplash factor than him!
I touched my neck on a sore part and groaned pulling my hand away. my shoulder hurt too much to even do that.
Suddenly, before I could let the wind carry me away, a split second and the world went black!
A pair of cold hands covered my eyes...
"Ah! Who.. how?" I cried out, it's not everyday someone doesn't just walk straight through me exactly. I have a small following of believers but let's face it, next to Santa and the Tooth Fairy and co, I'm not exactly at the tippity top of the popularity polls.
A feminine but dignified giggle froze my heart and- perhaps I should use my phrases more wisely on second thought- answered my question.
I stood at attention, my fingers tightening intensely on my staff which I found lying up against the tree, as her hands slid off my face and began rubbing the sore part on my neck.
"You called?" She whispered. I hummed, and tried to move, but it just wasn't working.
It was a great feeling, and her hands were really soft, and gentle, but it didn't excuse the fact that I'm technically supposed to be hiding from her and not being caught!
Ever since that one night at the window sill though... she's been the one who's harder to catch off guard. To top it off, she seemed to have found a rather annoying way to force me to speak to her, and yet through all this I hadn't gotten up the courage to really SAY something.
Her cold, soft hands rested around my waist, and I mumbled, "Can you n-not?" I grabbed her hands to take them off, but just as I did she swung me around, our arms twisting over each other's a little as she went.
She grinned triumphantly, her eyes narrowed and I grumbled a little, "Can I get away with adding 'please'?" I tried.
"Nope. Not until you tell me your name." She teased.
...Elsa...
I finally had caught him! physically I mean, of course. I pulled him closer and squeezed his hands, so cold and thin, and calloused. No doubt all that gripping of his Staff, which lay limp on the ground now beside us, had contributed to that.
He was a wild little spirit, rough and playful but a total coward when faced with me.
"What's the matter, Jokul? Ice got your tongue?" I asked, giggling.
His face visibly reddened and he tried to pull away from my hands again, but I kept them in place.
"Stop calling me "Jokul"... I can't even pronounce that! Who is this "Jokul" guy anyway? He wants his silly name back!" He protested.
I waited until he was pulling extra hard against me before I simply smiled and purposely let go and stifled some laughter as he fell into the snow, a dim imprint of himself left behind as he sank in with an "oomph!"
I stood over where he lay now and grinned at his clearly irritated face, "Jokul Frosti, the spirit of winter. I assume you must know of the Norse legend of 'Old man winter'? right?" I asked.
His eyes lightened up at the mention of 'spirit of winter', but then he pulled a weird face when I called him the second title.
He shot up and snatched up his staff, "Old man? Who are you calling old, you crazy lady? Do I look old to you?" He pointed to himself with one hand and then stabbed his staff into the snow below us.
"This coming from a boy with white hair and a cane?" I asked.
He went pink in the cheeks and finally gave in and chuckled at my persistence.
"What do you want from me?" He asked, leaning against it and staring at me.
I took his hands off his staff again and held them in mine, "Nothing, I just want to know you're real. To feel you..." I whispered. He softened finally at that and held my hands back, our cold skin burning against each other.
"Yeah," he whispered, "I guess I am."
"And my name is JACK! okay? so you can call me Jack.. please!"
To be continued