has stopped working.
He stared at Elsa, completely dumbfounded by this newest development. She had transformed her clothes before his very eyes. If that wasn't enough to render him speechless, the way she looked in her new dress would. She could've walked onto a red carpet and no one would've batted an eye. Elsa looked much more approachable with her hair down and a smile on her face, compared to when they'd first met. Despite this, Jack suddenly found himself unquestionably, seriously intimidated.
"So?" Elsa prompted, biting her lip. "What do you think?"
"You–I–uh, you look amazing," he managed to sputter out.
Nice going there, Jack. Real smooth.
Her eyes sparkled. "Really?"
"Yup." Proud of executing a coherent response, Jack faked a coughing fit before his mouth could betray him.
"Hmm…" Elsa walked to the nearest wall. Using the reflective surface as a mirror, she twisted and turned to see her outfit from every possible angle. "I don't know. I think there's something missing…"
Dress, check. Shoes, check. Umm… What more do girls need?
Elsa didn't seem the type to carry a handbag, and it wasn't like she had stuff to put in one anyway. Jack wracked his brain for ideas. "Uh, earlier you were wearing a cape?"
"Not quite," she said, turning to point at him, "But maybe…" Elsa thoughtfully tapped her finger on her chin.
Elsa pursed her lips as she considered Jack's suggestion. No, a long cape wouldn't do. It would be concealing and restrictive, two things her life definitely wasn't anymore. But she couldn't deny that yards of fabric trailing behind her provided a certain elegance and drama she loved. As she pondered the conundrum, Elsa experienced a flash of inspiration.
She closed her eyes. Though it had been effortless to find her magic when she'd first started using it, it seemed that her powers had retreated to a far corner of her mind. A nagging headache formed, slowing the process, but Elsa finally coaxed the energy from within. Within seconds, a glorious gossamer train grew from the back of her dress.
Elsa opened her eyes to find Jack closely inspecting the process. As this enterprise was his idea, she decided to subtly deepen the blue to match his sweatshirt. The shift in hue also nicely offset her cerulean gown without drawing attention to itself.
"Do you want to watch the sunrise?" she asked, gesturing toward the open balcony. The gradually brightening skies indicated that the sun would soon breach the horizon.
"Sure." Jack flew over to sit on the railing. She almost told him to be careful, but stopped as soon as she realized it was pointless. Even if he fell, there was no real danger.
"What's it like?" she asked, suddenly curious.
He looked over his shoulder. "What's what like, Snowflake?"
"Flying." Elsa joined him at the edge, though choosing to keep both feet planted safely on the floor. Jack had promised to catch her earlier, but she wasn't eager to put it to the test.
"In one word? Incredible."
"I don't doubt it." Old memories surfaced, but for once they brought no pain. "When we were children, Anna always loved to play games where she could pretend to fly."
"Well, it definitely can be exciting and fun. But sometimes it can be peaceful, just you and your thoughts drifting through the skies. Except when there are flocks of geese nearby. Then things get interesting…" Elsa laughed, recalling the time she'd seen a stray goose harass a group of children from her window. "It's also pretty useful too. I've never had problems reaching the top shelf since."
"Well, I'll make sure you're first to know when I need something up high then," she [teased].
Jack pointed a finger at her. "I'll hold you to that."
"Is that so?" Elsa asked, arching a brow.
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "If I hear whispers that you're shopping around for other helpers, well..." He formed a shoddy snowman in the palm of his hand before flicking it off the edge. "It won't end well for the other guy," he finished with a devilish smirk.
"You wouldn't," she stated, though amused by the idea of Jack defending his position to the death.
"Nah, I'm not that mean," he said with a shrug. "But it's fun to pretend I could be. Everybody loves a good villain."
Elsa eyed him dubiously. "A 'good' villain? How is that even possible?"
"Well, they could be good at being bad," Jack playfully countered.
She rolled her eyes, unable to think of a suitable reply to that painful but witty remark. It would be best to move on. "Will you please clarify what you meant about a 'good villain'?"
"Well," Jack spoke slowly as he explained, "Some ways of doing evil things are more successful and efficient than others..."
"Jack." She sent him a look of reproach.
"What?" he asked, a carefully innocent expression on his face.
"You know exactly what," she accused, nudging him with her elbow.
Jack sputtered a few incoherent words before protesting, "Milady, I have no idea what you are talking about."
"I seriously doubt that." It was hard to sound serious while fighting a smile at this ridiculous charade, but Elsa did her best.
He chuckled, finally admitting, "Yeah, I do know." Jack switched from sitting to perching on the railing and rubbed his hands together. "So, a good villain, huh? Well, one of the defining traits of a good villain is that people love 'em, especially screaming fangirls."
"Fangirls?" Elsa questioned, unfamiliar with the term.
Jack waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. So, the question here, and the reason they're a good villain instead of a Joe Shmoe, is why?"
"Why people love them, you mean?" She couldn't fathom loving something enough to scream about it; that kind of behavior was absurd. Then a vision of Anna passed through her mind, and she suddenly understood.
"Yup. So there's pretty much one thing that sets them apart," he said, lifting a finger to emphasize his point. "Do you have a guess what it is?"
Elsa thought about the countless books she read while in her room, but couldn't come up with a theory. She shook her head.
"Relatability. If the audience can relate to the villain and see that they're human, suddenly they become much more than just the main bad guy. A complex character and good backstory can make people understand their actions, and sympathize with them as a person instead of mindlessly hating them."
Elsa shifted uncomfortably. It was quite apparent that she did not fit into the 'good' villain category. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if Anna and everyone else in Arendelle hated her for what she'd done.
"We should head inside," she abruptly suggested. The sun had risen, bathing the land in a cheerful golden light. In her current dismal mood, a reminder of the outside world was the last thing Elsa wanted to see. She was fine here, up on a lonely mountain in her empty ice palace. She had everything she needed: food, shelter, companionship. The world had nothing left to offer. Elsa started walking inside, refusing to look back, not even to check if Jack followed.
"Are you tired?" Jack asked, flying to catch up before walking beside her. "You stayed up the entire night, Snowflake. Maybe you should get some rest."
"I'm fine." Her tone brooked no argument.
Jack held up his hands. "Great, message received. Elsa is a-okay." He drew out the last word, casually imbuing it with a question.
She turned to fully face him. "Jack, I said I'm fine."
"Yeah, I heard that," he agreed—but somehow made it clear he was not convinced.
"Jack—"
He raised an eyebrow.
Elsa sighed. Arguing further would only prove his point, and she didn't feel confident she could control her powers if she became truly upset. Besides that, she couldn't afford to lose the only person she had left. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
Jack nodded, accepting her apology. "And…?"
"You're right," she conceded. "I'm not feeling the best."
His brow furrowed in concern. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?"
Elsa wearily shook her head. "It's just a headache, nothing to worry about. The draft probably doesn't help either," she said, waving a hand to magically close the balcony doors.