Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen and this shall apply to the rest of the fic. I might want to type this hilarious part again though.

A/N: Hi guys! A chapter longer than my usual, and I've not been nitpicking my grammar. But Merry Christmas! Tell me what you think of this, pretty please? I'm not sure if I'd update before the New Year. Holiday Homework is still on the list (And school starts on January the second, like. hallelujah. oh joy)

So she could see him, and she's talking to him–actually talking to him. Drat, why didn't he talk to her the last time he was here? Maybe he could've saved himself over a hundred years of not talking to a human.

"Hello…umm, Queen Elsa. My name is Jack," He manages to barely stutter out. His voice comes out a little hoarse and the words are jumbled, but she manages to catch his name nonetheless.

He speaks in a sort of magical all-tongue, he speaking English but her catching the words in her native Nordic tongue, maybe. Or she might be hearing him speak in English–if the other party understood the language just fine, it'd sound like English. The magical language worked that way-even if it wasn't their first language, if the spoken tongue is understood however, the magic didn't need to change the words to sound like their native language.

"You're not from here," She states. It wasn't a question.

"The English people say that you could win a price. Would a quid do?" He grinned at her as he straightens himself, dusting off the imaginary specks of dust on him. Dust never really settled on him anymore, not really. Well, they still could, but instantly cleaning himself had never been easier–Jack thinks that he's been spending too much time watching commercials with Jamie.

Ah, the perks of being a Guardian–not needing to learn more languages and not getting dirty. The Man in the Moon knows why Tooth bothered to learn all those languages. Jack doesn't exactly recall the last time he's showered, but he does know that it's been awhile since he did so. Snow did wash dirt off easily after all.

"No, you are not English either. The English speak their English with a more… clipped accent," She replied with a frown. She looked coldly at him. "I suppose you should tell the truth? You're in Arendelle, it's my land. You are defenceless here."

He twirled his stick around in his left hand. "Hmm, I guess I should." He is feigning nonchalance, really. She spoke English with a slight lilt, the way North Germanic peoples speak their English. If it came back to him in the magical all-tongue, its accent would be his accent. He didn't know she spoke English; then again, he didn't know much.

The first time he came here, he was still rather lost. He broke out of the ice, seen and heard the moon all in the very early 1800s. He had spent the next few decades traversing all paths, travelling all around the Northern and Southern hemispheres. Okay, maybe he wasn't just lost, he was confused. Coming halfway across the world from Burgess by skimming across the waters of the Pacific Ocean might prove that.

He had first wandered into Arendelle when Elsa was four, and painted her window with his ice for the first time; he hadn't ever done that for anyone else. To see her face light in wonder and delight brought a grin to his face, and he came to her window ever so often to cheer her up. He'd only come to see her, give cheer to the girl who could conjure ice and snow–a girl who thought it was a curse.

Come to think of it, she was more powerful with her ice magic that he was if you factor in the precursor for creating the very things synonymous with winter. All she needed were her hands, and the magic would flow out of her. On the other hand, he needed his trusty, good old staff that could most thankfully be repaired as and when needed.

"Well, are you going to answer? Why lie about your name–Jack's a common English name, do not think that I do not know that." He broke out of his thoughts, but she seemed to hesitate before asking the second question. "How did you jump from the second floor?"

He scratched his head. "Me? My name is Jack; I'm not lying about that. But I guess I'm sorry for joking that I was English. I'm an American. I don't really want to be an Englishman; I know some really shady characters there." Oh, all the awards should go to him, terrific pun. Pitch Black would be thrilled, Jack, a Guardian, mentioning him? How delightful.

"Your second question? Ehh, I trained in a circus once, had been an acrobat," He lied slightly uneasily, but he offered her a winsome smile. Hopefully, she'd buy it.

And she did. Her eyes lit up as she spoke. "Circus? Ohh, have you ever worked with lions?"

Someone thank whoever motivated North to drag him to a Russian circus. "Nope, sorry. Besides, it's just a little cruel to make a lion jump through hoops of fire, don't you think? Imagine how many times he could've gotten burned during his training…"

Her eyes widened. "I never thought of that," She remarked thoughtfully. "I guess I don't really know much about the outside world, being… raised in the palace and all that. That's that then–I'd not let a travelling circus into Arendelle." Then her eyes suddenly flashed and a vexed expression crossed her face. "Dear me, I'm sorry for not introducing myself. I'm the Queen of Arendelle, Queen Elsa. But since you are a lowly circus born boy, I suppose I'd let you call me Elsa. Just Elsa."

Jack broke into a grin. "A lowly circus boy at your service, Elsa." He bowed slightly, a little mockingly. But he feels a slight twinge of guilt at his lies–she was a nicer queen than he'd expect. He's heard that royalty could be scheming, devious and downright rotten. Bizarre situation or not, she deserved the truth.

"Are you going to come to the party? American boy or not, you should come for it. I promise that you won't be left out."

He raised his eyebrow, still mockingly. "My lovely queen won't mind if I sully her presence with my lowly rank in life? Oh, how absolutely gracious of you!"

"If I was English, I'd call you a right prat. Come on, little Jack. We'd make some fun for you."

Oh, you have no idea. And Elsa, aren't you supposed to be the boring one here?

"But you've got to tell me what it's like out there, though," Elsa continues.

They begin to walk out of the chapel as they talk.

"Huh, what do you mean?" He asks innocently.

"You're a right little imp–such a hellion, you. Little scullion."

"Is there a bar of soap around here? The queen insulting a poor little former circus boy with her choice words?" She glared at him and he laughed. "I get what you mean. The world? I could spin tales for you, or tell the truth. Are you going to be able to tell the difference?"

"Me, tell the difference? Well, even if you told me that people in America rode around on metal scraps and could fly around the world, I'd probably still believe you. But you better not tell me Santa Claus exists because St. Nicholas is long dead."

North would contest that, but he didn't really want to offend her, running at the expense of being ossified (with ice that is). And she didn't know how she hit the bull's-eye with that statement. Americans did travel around in cars and planes. But that was a thing in the future, damn.

He was glad she was easy to talk to–he never imagined staging a conversation with an actual adult human. None of them ever saw him anyway. And he hadn't had any interest in talking to those boring people anyhow. But her? After getting past the really brief initial phase of threats, she grinned, talked freely and laughed. Almost like how a child would talk. Okay, maybe she was a boring person to her sister, but she did have her merits. And he'd be the judge on whether she knew how to have fun for himself.

"I'll tell you that the Spanish let bulls charge at them as they wave a red cloth around."

"I heard that in passing!" She squealed. "Oh, they risk their lives–that's rather scary really, isn't it? Tell me more about such a thing, please."

She knows she should be more cautious and careful around this Jack–a niggling thought warns her that he was not all as he appeared to be, but she pushes it away the moment he mentions that he's an American from a circus. A circus! To think that he's probably travelled all over the world–a circus boy!

Jack tossed his stick in front of him.

"Well," He grinned at her. "The Spanish take these capes…"

He mimes the action, leaping backwards onto the stone wall and holding his hands up, as if he's waving a piece of cloth around. "These red capes! And they wave the cape around near a bull, then the bull charges at them!" His eyes widen in mock fear. "When the bull is just about to get them-the horns just inches away as the crowd cheers and roars, the bullfighter leaps away!" He jumps off the wall and lands beside her.

"The bull would stagger, shocked that the man isn't gored on his horns…"

"Gross!" She wrinkled her nose.

"Well, that's the truth. Anyway, the crowd is crazy by now, they'd be hollering for all it's worth. This is the Corrida de toros…"

"But bulls are peaceful creatures, usually. Why would it try to hurt the bullfighter?"

He scratched his head before leaning down to pick his stick off the ground. "Oh, right. That little detail. Sorry, I prefer what happens after the bullfighter tries provoking the bulls. Anyway, the bull gets offended when the red cape is waved in front of him. Don't ask me why, I'm no bull expert. I'm a tumbling, cartwheel, tight-rope expert, remember?" He grinned cheekily at her. "Would you fancy a race to your party?"

"Me, race you to a party?" She eyed him for a moment before looking him up and down. "Rather not. Your legs are too long for me. And besides, my dress is too long for racing on these uneven clay tiles. I'd probably trip and break a leg or two, or maybe I'd snag my dress on something and it'd rip. Wouldn't want that, would we?"

He twirls his stick around and sighs dramatically. "Well, if you say so. Since we aren't gonna race, what else do you want to know about?"

"Have you been to London?"

"London? Of course!" He shook his head at her as he sighed again. "My queen, London is a place everyone's been to, I mean, it's the centre of today's trade! America is currently busy with its War Between the States–the Yankees and the Southerners are too busy fighting in the New World for any trade or circus to go there. You know, I came to Europe because of that war. No jobs when they're fighting you see." He gave her a strange expression, one she could almost swear was guilt, but she brushed it off.

"Mm, but London's no fun at the moment. Not unless you're rich and famous of course. Then again, nothing's any fun if you aren't rich. I've seen the English Queen–she's fat and not at all pretty, unlike you." He winked at her and she turned slightly pink. Were all Americans such charmers, or was Jack out of the norm? She didn't know.

"London–I'm sure you've heard it's a pretty dreary place; all smog and smoke, not a good place for fresh air and breathing if you ask me. Many of the poor kids are chimney sweeps, with no money to buy any toys. But they did, I mean, they do know how to have fun. I've seen them play in the puddles or dance to a musician who played a mechanical violin–he's called the hurdy-gurdy man. If they were lucky, when they get home they'd sing to the fiddle or pipe… or something like that."

"What do you mean 'lucky'?" She questioned.

He shrugged. "If they had parents who were in fit conditions to sing with them, I guess. If they weren't dead or drunk. Childbirth's a tricky business for the poor," He did a somersault in front of her and any doubts of him not being an acrobat simply vanished into thin air. He was such a natural at these turns!

She changes the topic. "What about the London rich?" Their poor led such morbid lives.

In Arendelle, the people were kept much happier, thankfully. She's glad that all her efforts at managing the town paid off. Why was she even a Queen anyway? It wasn't as if her Kingdom was particularly large. Her kingdom wasn't even the size of London, for heaven's sake! Queen Victoria managed a far larger empire than she did–so maybe she had the right to turn a blind eye to faults in certain parts of the running of the English realm. What single monarch had the time to look into every nook and cranny there was? Besides, the Victorians did have their good, didn't they?

She knows little about the world all the way to the west; she's been too preoccupied with bringing more trade to Arendelle ever since she scared off a couple three years ago (and that she cut off Weaselton's trade).

He obliges, and tells her about the Victorian rich after warning her that he wasn't rich himself, so he didn't have knowledge of the inner workings of their pastimes. He says that the rich sang around pianos, instead of fiddles and pipes. The children had their nannies, and after whatever classes they had with the governess, they'd paint or read. Sometimes, if the London weather held, they'd go to a zoo or park. She found the concept of a zoo fascinating–one could look at an animal from Africa in London? But at the same time, she found it saddening that the noble animals were caged and locked up. They'd never know their true purpose, and they'd definitely not know the joys of freedom.

"But how could they stand to keep such majestic creatures in a cage? How could a lion stand to be in a cage?"

"We circuses keep lions in cages too," He said dryly. "I don't suppose my lions are very happy about it either. "Us circuses have the filthiest cages ever. Even the zoo seems to be a paradise in comparison."

She gave him an accusing look. "Then why don't you do anything about the cages?"

He shrugged. "It's not that I don't want to. It's that I can't–the circus master controls everything, and by everything I do mean everything. Didn't you get the memo? I'm the lowly circus acrobat boy–I don't have any say in anything. If I was the circus master I'd buy bigger cages even if it taxes on the budgets; circuses don't really earn much, if you think about it."

"Memo?"

He looked as if he'd smack himself. "Sorry, I forgot; American saying there. Well, what I'm saying is that 'well, don't you understand'?" He uses his fingers to make air quotes.

"Ah…" She nods. "What happened to the circus you were from anyway? I don't think a lowly boy like yourself could simply choose to leave and go on some holiday or another."

He laughed. "How sharp of you. Did I forget this too? I ran away."

"Naughty little thing, you," She giggles and smacked his arm lightly. Was it just her, or did he feel warm to the touch? But, no one around felt warm to her; they all felt uncomfortably hot. That was why she wasn't a person for hugging.

"I'd say you were a minx," He chuckled lightly. "But you aren't that bold. And you won't be flirting with me, of all people."

"Huh." She does think that her face was a little pink though. Would she actually flirt with him? Was she? She could wring her head right there and then, but she doesn't think that it'd be appropriate. Does she even know what flirting was?

Oh right, she did. She's witnessed too many of those playful moments Anna and Kristoff shared together, too many moments where she suspected that she might hurl her breakfast, lunch or dinner. The two were at it too often. Thank the God she didn't believe in that they got married. Hopefully, they'd stop going moony-eyed at each other as often as they did now. At the rate they had gone, she didn't think she'd want any suitors at all. She thinks that she could just continue rejecting the endless gift bringing envoys.

"And now, my queen, I shall take my leave. I might just see you around!" He grinned at her, but it was almost as if he was holding back his laughter at her discomfort.

Jack darted away, picking through the carefully before she lost sight of him. She found herself surrounded by a large crowd of people, and feeling vaguely annoyed at the giggles a gaggle of girls made at her side. Would any of the coquettes try to flirt with Jack? She wonders idly.

"Queen Elsa, there you are!" Helge booms from the side and she starts. "Anna was thinking that maybe you would not come!"

"Oh no, I'd definitely be here," Elsa smiles at the woman and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Helge already smelt like Akvavit, and it had barely been fifteen minutes since the start of the celebrations!

Did Jack speak anything Nordic? She thinks suddenly. If he didn't, he was probably not going to have any fun at the party. Or maybe he'd get on just fine with any girl he could find. Glib tongue or not, his good looks would most likely snag him a pretty girl around here. Did she really just think that he looked handsome? There's no saying that he isn't, a voice in her head tells her. That's true. She almost huffs. Should she even care? But he was technically a guest in her town; she shouldn't let him go off alone…

"…and Princess Anna, here is your sister, I'll be off now! More food to serve!" Ah, that was why she was drinking early. She had to serve more food and she had been trying her best to get drunk via her imbibing.

Anna's warm hug wrapped around her. "Elsa! Could you make a ice rink? I would like it if you could let us skate."

Jack stays out of sight after he leaves Elsa. It wouldn't do to let her see that everyone passed through him or that they couldn't even see him. Best case scenario? She'd think he was a ghost.

He felt terrible at telling her all those untruths. Sure, he had been to Spain and London during the 1800s, but lying and telling her that he was a runaway circus boy made him feel like the worst person on Earth. Oh, why was he sent back to this particular time, where no one knew what 'memo' meant?

And Elsa seemed so nice, though a little ignorant about the world. Aren't most monarchs supposed to know more about London? If he didn't get his history wrong, London was the busiest place in Europe then.

The German Empire wasn't yet established; Germany's Berlin was still insignificant in compared to the bustling, grey-coloured London, wasn't it? Was Berlin even the capital of the German Empire yet? He hasn't ever studied for a history test–he doesn't know. He's never really bothered with trying to understand these trifling human politics anyway. They changed so much that he couldn't bother; fluctuating more than the undulations of the ocean waves like it did.

Jack sighed. His earlier headache began to nag at him again. Oh well, maybe a nap was in place. He hops into a barrel–where Elsa wouldn't ever check, maybe, if she even wanted to look for him that is.

He shuts his eyes moments after an ice-rink appears in front of him, the ice covering the entire courtyard ground as the people exclaim in their delight. Ice begins to cover the many surfaces around the place around him–ice sculptures in the shapes of swans and reindeer (weird combination Elsa) growing on the outer surface of the barrel he was in.

So much for his original idea with the ice rink. He yawned tiredly. This time business was tiring. And he was barely two hours into the 19th century. Was he supposed to stay awake? Nah… there's nothing for him to do now… Sleep…

"Has anyone seen Jack?" Tooth asked worriedly as she flittered into the room in North's Workshop. "I can't find him anywhere!"

"I do not see Jack," North said as he heaved a huge sigh. "I need Jack to help me with this!" He waved his large arm around the room filled with little knickknacks.

There were all kinds of presents in the room, from Matryoshka dolls, train sets and glass chess sets to Thor figurines and remote-controlled helicopter toys. The Yetis were scrambling around as they picked up the toys and placed them and carefully placed them in appropriately sized boxes. Then they'd wrap the boxes with a shiny, coloured foil before tacking or tying a ribbon onto the box.

"He says that he helps me pack!"

"Well, ain't any of us have seen Mr. Frosty," Bunny said growlingly. But beneath all that prickly fur, he was worried. Jack hadn't been seen for a few days now–it wasn't like him to vanish without a trace, especially during winter. Three days to the Winter Solstice and he was nowhere in sight.

Jamie Bennett had been dead worried the last time Tooth visited him. He had been frantic, telling her that Jack had promised to be at his window when he woke up. Two days after that, Jack still hadn't made an appearance and he was worried that something bad might have befallen Jack.

North gave another of his huge sighs. "I cannot do anything now for Jack; Christmas is coming. Tooth, Bunny, Sandy, go look for Jack."

"Roger that," Bunny nodded, saluting before he hopped into a hole and disappeared.

"Roger that too," Tooth chimed.

A tick sign appeared above the Sandman's head, as well as a couple of question marks. But he and Tooth left North to his toys and Christmas preparations.

North stared out of the window and watches the snowdrift. "Oh, Jack, where are you?"

A Yeti made an indiscernible noise as it places a dragon plush toy into a box, but North nods in agreement. "I wish I knows too."

"Hey Jack, what are you doing in a barrel?" A childish, loud voice sounded at his ear and he groaned.

"Mm, five more minutes… Jamie..."

"Jack!" Through the haze of sleep, he barely recognizes the voice as Olaf's.

"What?" He snapped as he rubbed his eyes free of the grit. He sees Olaf's big eye through a small hole of the barrel and he sits up in the cramped space. His back felt sore. Remind him not to sleep in a barrel, else have a back that does feel 300 years old.

"Hey, Jack!" Olaf sounded hurt.

"Sorry," Jack proceeded to stand up to stretch. The sky was dark now. How long had he been asleep? Summer–the sun set late… so… Had he been asleep for more than eight hours now? He's shocked at that–usually, he'd only sleep for an hour and he's fit to go fly over the Atlantic. "I must've fallen asleep."

"Yeah, you did! You missed most of the party!" Olaf exclaimed. "I was looking for you!"

"Sorry," Jack apologizes again as he climbs out of the barrel. He turned his head to the left and right and hears two satisfying cracks. Ah. That sure did the trick.

"And I was going to introduce you to everyone…" Olaf looked away. "You know, everyone would be so thrilled to meet you!"

Jack looked at Olaf wearily. "Well, Olaf. Could you do me a favour?"

"Oh, what? I think I might just do anything for you Jack! You're the coolest!" Olaf thrilled and Jack rolled his eyes. "But you really are the coolest, with your pretty snow and ice…"

Jack let out a chuckle. "Thanks Olaf. But I've got something to ask of you." Olaf widens his eyes hopefully. Wow, he's acquired himself a fan, really? "Don't tell Elsa I'm Jack Frost. Could you do that?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because I told her that I was a circus boy. Do you know what that is?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know! I didn't want her to know I was Jack Frost! Can you imagine her reaction if I told her I was Jack Frost? People think I'm an expression to use in a bad situation!"

"I don't know. Elsa isn't like that." Jack's grateful that Olaf didn't spout another question that involved a 'why'. Jack wasn't a kindergarten teacher after all, and Jamie was a genius of a kid. "But you lied to her." Olaf says the sentence in a hushed tone, as if it was the greatest sin ever.

"Well, I had to…" Jack gives a shoddy excuse. "I mean, I don't really want to lose a friend before I make one, you know?"

Olaf nods. "Maybe. Suit yourself then. Look, the fireworks are coming out!" Jack dusts himself.

"They are," Jack agreed, fascinated. He's seen his fair share of fireworks–they date back even to American Revolutionary War (and the 21st century had more than a fair amount of these mixtures of sulphurs and chemicals), but he hadn't expected a small Norwegian town to be able to afford such pyrotechnics.

Jack and Olaf held a breath as the first firework soared into the air and exploded in a blast of orange. The next followed as a white. The people were 'ooh-ing' and 'ahh-ing' at the pretty spectacle before them.

The next few were those that were 'specially ordered from Italy' as Olaf supplied–a statement he had heard someone saying while Jack was sleeping. These 'special' Italian fireworks were coloured purple, blue, green and red, yellow. If only the purple could be distinguished into violet and indigo, they'd have all the colours of the rainbow. But no matter; it still disarmed the people all the same.

There was a faint sound of hysteria at the far edges of the party, but no one seemed to pay it any mind. They were probably dismissing it as some drunken outburst. Jack thinks that they might be right–the air smelled so heavy of drink that it seemed as if the ground had been doused with a swimming pool's worth of Akvavit.

"There you are!" Jack spun around to see Elsa walking towards them. She was dressed slightly differently now–her dark dress marginally shorter than before. It looked like the same dress though, and its hem was torn.

"Elsa," He inclined his head towards her. "Hello."

Olaf leapt to attention. "Hey Elsa!" He waved at her.

"So, you've met Olaf?" She smiles congenially.

"Yep, Olaf's a pretty nice guy."

"Yep, I'm a nice snowman! Elsa, Elsa, Elsa, you've met Jack already?"

"Yes, I have," Elsa cocks her head to the side. "Is there anything about him that I should know?"

"Ohh, nothing, nothing at all!" Olaf almost shouted, but his voice was drowned by the noise of another firework exploding. "I just want you to know that Jack is a very, very nice person, right Jack?"

Olaf's sincerity was palpable, but to Jack, it was a little awkward. Traces of a lie were evident to him, but it seems that Elsa was going to dismiss it as she nods at Olaf's statement.

"Right, I'm a really nice person. Say, Elsa. Where did you get all those fireworks from? I mean, I've seen these things before, but aren't they expensive?"

Elsa looked at him as she replied. "Well, they are. Why, each of them probably costs more than what an average fisherman could earn in a year! But it's worth it seeing the smile they could put on everyone's faces. All the same, I got them for Anna. She's always wanted to see these fireworks ever since we were children–to see light illuminating the dark skies. She told me that she felt less lonely when she could see the stars at night."

A silence descends on them as they continue watching the last of the fireworks fizzle out, to the feeble protests of the people. Jack decides that the silence wasn't an awkward one, but Olaf seemed to be bursting to say something.

The hysteria at the side of the crowd only grew louder though. Faint shouts, and yells.

"Has anyone seen my daughter?"

"My son?"

"Oh shut it, Mathisen."

"Yeah, shut up Alf."

"Shut it Inger."

Jack looked at Elsa. "Do you think that something's happening there?"

Elsa shook her head. "I do not know. The people came sometimes joke around too much, bring a joke too far. Children often wander away from their parents. I wouldn't worry too much about these things, not yet. I mean, where could they have gone?"

"They could've fallen into the water," Jack points out.

"I've frozen the sea for now. Safety precautions."

"But couldn't the children have walked away on the ice?"

"I would know if someone steps on it–" Then her eyes widen. "There might be someone on the ice right now. But… it's moving too quickly!"

A child, of around ten to twelve years of age, suddenly runs up to them, her blonde pigtails flying behind her. Tears were running down her face. "A wolf, it's come and taken Johan! Queen Elsa, please. You've got to believe me!" She gave a terrified wail. "I don't know what to do! He's my little brother and papa would be so mad if Johan's disappeared–there'd be no one to fish with him... No father would want a daughter like me if they could have a son…"

Jack knew he shouldn't say anything. If he did, Elsa would know that the girl couldn't see, hear or touch him. A feeling of unease crept up his spine. No child as old as she was would bother spinning tales to a queen. It'd be too nerve-wrecking to even approach a queen, much less allow themselves to be humiliated by telling false stories.

Elsa seems to pick up the girl's fear, and decides that she wasn't lying. She spoke seriously and firmly, with her natural regal authority. "Now, come down and tell me your name. You could do that, right?"

The girl snivels gratefully. "My name is Alfhild Mathisen."

"Okay, good. So what happened?" Olaf looks on curiously from the side, but Jack could see that even the snowman appeared to be scared.

Alfhild Mathisen gave a sniff. Slightly belatedly, he realizes with a slight start that Alfhild Mathisen would be related to the child Stig Mathisen, from whom he retrieved the memories of Arendelle from–maybe an aunt or something. This really wasn't his best day.

"Well, I was minding Johan. They were playing by the water, you know, with Karla. He's really taken with Karla Jespersen, likes her a lot. You made the water ice you know, so we were skating around. It was fun. Since it got dark, I told Johan and Karla that we should be getting back to the party–papa and momma might get worried if we disappeared for too long. Then this huge wolf appears!" Her voice trembled as she gave the exclamation, her hands waving about, as if to try to show the size of the wolf. "It… it grabs Johan and Karla and it vanishes into the dark…"

She descends into another fresh round of tears. Elsa waited patiently for her to stop crying. "I don't know what to do…"

"Alright, how did the wolf look like?"

Jack doesn't know how a wolf would manage to carry two children away, even if they were small.

"Very big," She first says and begins to gesticulate again. "It's taller than I am, big! Very, very, very big. It's mostly black, with huge teeth!" Alfhild points at her teeth. So, it's got big canines. "It's got a tail, but it walks like a human…"

Howls were heard in a distance. It wasn't any secret that wolves infested the woods around the town, but they never ventured into the human populace. They only lurked about in the outskirts of it, only dragging a human down for the kill in the coldest depths of a hungry winter.

Elsa frowned as she pointed out that wolves didn't come into Arendelle, ever. "Are you sure that it's a wolf?"

"Yeah."

Elsa looked troubled as she turned to Jack and Olaf. Jack was sure his eyes looked pretty much like Olaf's, wide and slightly fearful. While Olaf was probably scared of the wolves, Jack was scared that Elsa might just find out that he was Jack Frost, not Jack the circus boy and then realize that he had been lying to her. Oh, why did he lie? Lying was such trouble if you had to keep it up.

Thankfully, Alfhild speaks first. "May… may I be dismissed? I might be wrong–maybe. I'll go to the ice to look for Karla and Johan…"

"No, that's too dangerous. You go back to your parents and tell them that Queen Elsa doesn't want you punished, and that's a direct order. Go on now."

Jack marvels at her ingenuity. Okay, maybe this didn't tell him that she was an Einstein-level genius, but the clockwork in her head functioned just fine; the cobwebs hadn't taken root in there.

Alfhild runs off. While she still looked slightly nervous, she didn't look terrified at the prospect of confronting her parents anymore.

"So, Jack. Have you ever encountered a huge black beast on your travels?"

Jack's mouth was slightly dry. "I don't know. I've never seen such a creature…"

Elsa sighed. "I was hoping that you might know what a 'huge black beast' was. Just kidding. Even if you travelled the entire world, I shouldn't really expect you to see monsters… After all, some stories are just stories…"

Then she cleared her throat. "I guess I'll have to be a party pooper again and close another party. Everyone must think I'm a huge party pooper. Jack, would you follow me? I won't mind your input in… this search for the children. Anna wouldn't be happy."

"Have you ever crashed a party?" He grinned at her in an attempt to lighten the mood, ease the tention between them.

She gave a rueful chuckle. "My coronation. I stunned Weaselton's duke when I let out a blast of ice. You should've seen the look on his face really."

"Weaselton?"

"I suppose the correct term would be Weselton… But he's so much of a weasel that his town might as well be a town of weasels."

"Hey, the people in the town are innocent! You shouldn't be too quick to label others." He chides her lightly.

She smiled at him, revealing her perfectly white teeth. If Tooth could see those teeth, she might adore Elsa's more than his. He wasn't sure that the Queen of Arendelle would react well to a fairy pulling at her cheeks and peering into her buccal cavity though. Maybe he shouldn't introduce them… if he even had the chance to do so.

"I suppose I shouldn't," She keeps his tone light as well, though he thinks that it's more for her benefit. Her face, however, had her worry written all over it. "Olaf," She turns to address the snowman. "Go look for Anna and Kristoff for me, would you? I have a party to ruin."

Olaf sighed. "Well," He kicks the ground and a small puff of dust flies up. Jack thinks idly that Arendelle's summer was rather dry. "I'll go get them. Do you think Karla and Johan are okay? They are really nice people who play with me…"

Jack could see that Elsa thought them nice children as well. He vaguely recalls that the little red-head kid from the chapel earlier–the kid who pointed Olaf out for Elsa. If a kid didn't bawl at meeting the icy queen, she must be plenty brave and full of pluck. Even if Arendelle means nothing to him, he shouldn't let the children stay missing.

He turns to Elsa, resolute in his decision. "Hey, Elsa." He touches her shoulders before withdrawing his arm quickly. Could she tell that he was cold? "I'm going to stay to help, do whatever I… whatever I can to bring those kids back."

She gives him a long, calculating look. It was almost as if she was looking at a stranger. "Jack. Who are you really?"

"Me?"

"In the span of a day…" She shook her head. "You leapt down from the second floor and told me you were an acrobat, a runaway from a circus. But I've checked with people during the time you ran away from me and stayed out of sight that there's no circus nearby. Tell me, who are you and how did you get here?"

"I told you, I'm Jack the circus boy," It sounded like a poor fib even to him, and he doubts that she'd buy it. "I ran away awhile back…"

"And?"

"That's the… the truth."

"And you're treating me as if I was born yesterday. Tell me then, Jack. Who are you really?"

"I am Jack."

"That's not good enough," She sighed sadly. "Does everyone lie to me?"

"No, I… I'm not…"

She turns away from him, preparing to walk away. Then she swirls around and grabs his arm. "Jack, tell me. Why are you cold?"

He swallowed. "That's because…" He swallows again and looked away. Should he tell her the truth? Then all those lies–why did he even go to the trouble of telling them? "I'm Jack Frost."

She released her grip on him. "Olaf told me. I didn't believe him, at first."

He turns around, his eyes searching for Olaf. That lying snowman! Where was he anyway? Did he really go off so quickly?

"And don't look for him. He told me earlier."

"Is he your spy?"

"No. But it seems fitting for my snowman to tell me that he's met the Jack Frost, the spirit of snow and ice. I'm the snow queen." She gives her last sentence casually.

She walks to the centre of the courtyard and climbs onto the fountain while Jack just stands there dumbly as he stared after her.

"Arendelle!" She yelled. "There's been an emergency, but I now order the party to cease! People, return to your homes and lock the doors. I want someone to light the lamps at the entrance and the bridge leading to the castle. If you must venture out tonight, do not go out alone and bring a lamp."

The people began murmuring resentfully, some hissing at her.

"I mean it. Please," Her voice lowered slightly but it began to sound strained, as if she was pleading with the crowd. "Go home for now."

The people continued muttering angrily, but they didn't argue. Many sullen looks were cast at Elsa though, and Jack wonders if this was the first time they had fun in awhile.

Elsa steps down from the fountain and goes to Jack. "Come on little Jack Frost. Even if no one else can see you, you're coming with me." She begins to walk towards the castle and he follows obediently.

If Bunny could see this, he'd say that Jack Frost was chained like a puppy that has finally learned his place.