CHRONICLE 10: WINNERS & LOSERS

Kristoff had never really been the competitive type.

Part of the reason for this was that one needed to have others to compete with in order to be so, and he hadn't been around others much in his life. But even those he had been around had never really challenged him.

There was never any competition to be had with Sven. Since the two had long considered themselves to be just the two of them against the world, it had gone without saying that they were always on the same side.

Life with the trolls hadn't presented many more such opportunities to contend. Though the younger of those little beings did love to play, they were rarely games that divided the players into teams and pitted them against each other.

And Kristoff's relationship with his fellow ice harvesters had never been anything more than professional. Sometimes they would start little contests to make things interesting – who could lift the biggest block of ice, who could load up the most blocks into the transport sleigh – but Kristoff had never felt the need to join in. As far as he was concerned, they were all one team competing with customer demand with their supply, and that was enough for him.

But perhaps the bigger reason for his disinterest in besting anyone was the lack of there being anything worth besting them for. He'd never found himself anywhere near, much less in, a situation where proving himself to be the best would reward him with anything. Winning a competitive game against some troll children didn't yield any prizes. Harvesting more ice than his coworkers didn't earn him more money, free time, or even respect. And nowadays, when he had so many more people in his life, Kristoff still didn't care if he was on the losing side of a snow fight (though really, in a snow fight, was there ever really a winning side?), because there was nothing at stake.

Though he would never admit it, when he thought about it, the iceman was actually a little proud of himself for never getting caught up competitive auras, especially when he didn't stand to gain or lose anything.

But there really was a first time for everything. To his surprise, Kristoff got properly competitive late one evening in December 1839. The only thing more surprising than that was that it was over pretty much nothing.

It was the end of a special and long-awaited day in Arendelle – that of the annual Winter Festival. The last eight hours had been filled with games, treats, music, contests, rides, and more at the disposal of the kingdom's people, and they hadn't hesitated to take advantage. The numbers didn't lie; every attraction had more than met the projected amount of business today – some had even sold out, in fact – making this Festival the most successful from a financial standpoint in recorded history. More importantly, it was a success to the people it was all put together for. The customers had wholeheartedly enjoyed the Festival's attractions, and it seemed the workers who'd manned them were delighted by the reactions their work had produced.

That wasn't to say some of said workers hadn't wanted to try some of the attractions themselves, though. On the contrary, seeing so much joy on so many faces had made more than one of the workers wish they could participate in the fun and games. In fact, many had indulged themselves when either their jobs were done for the day, or they took a break (sure to leave a fellow to hold down the fort).

Kristoff, Sven, Elsa and Jack – the two sleigh ride operators, host and supervisor, and (literal) overseer, respectively – hadn't been so lucky. Their tasks had taken up the entire duration of the event (the sleigh rides had proven surprisingly popular, Elsa had not wanted to take any chances that something would go wrong on her watch, and Jack hadn't wanted to try any of the games or treats without his girlfriend), and now it was too late. The sun was going down, Arendelle's streets were vacant of anyone but them, and the many Festival attractions remained abandoned and awaiting tomorrow's disassembly.

And if seeing so many people enjoying the Festival today somehow hadn't made them envious of them, Anna and Olaf's recounting of the day's events now certainly did.

"So Olaf got rid of his last two darts, and threw his nose and arm instead!" the Princess laughingly described. "And it worked! He actually popped the last two balloons!"

The odd group enjoyed a good laugh at the image Anna's words painted in their heads. Even Sven gave a snort with impeccable timing.

"Now that's what I call using your head." Kristoff joked. "Or at least something off it."

"Yeah, you're pretty sharp, Olaf!" Jack agreed, earning another laugh.

"And they let you get away with that?" Elsa queried.

"Well, they gave him the prize." Anna conceded with a shrug. "Guess there's nothing in the rulebook about it."

"Always wanted one of these!" Olaf exclaimed happily before smiling at his plushie prize. "Who's a nice puppy-wuppy? You are, yes, you are! You wanna say hi to the puppy, Sven?"

Sven leaned a little away in response, a look of uncertainty on his features. Though he knew it was just a stuffed animal, the last creature a reindeer wanted anything to do with was a wolf.

"It looks like Olaf isn't the only one who won a prize." Elsa observed with a gesture to the silver medal hanging from Anna's neck.

The Princess shrugged modestly, but a smug little grin pulled at her lips despite her best efforts, revealing her pride.

"Well, singing does run in the family." she admitted. "I'll bet Elsa would've won gold if she'd gotten on the stage."

"Oh, rub it in, troublemaker." Jack groaned with a smirk.

Though everyone kept their smiles in place, they all cast the Guardian looks of surprise.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Anna asked, feigning indignation.

"Just saying, she didn't win gold today because she was too busy running the show." came the reply. "Not all of us had the day off today."

"Jack, it's okay." Elsa interrupted patiently.

The Guardian of Fun sighed, realizing his lover was right. Elsa had already admitted to him that her sister was the main reason she'd put so much work into the Winter Festival. That was why she'd been supervising the event all day long; she'd relieved Anna of any duties so she could enjoy herself to the fullest. And while Jack understood that – understood that Elsa wanted to hear about all the fun that Anna had – he'd thought that the Princess's rambling had gone a little too far when she'd gotten into the prizes Elsa could have won. As could be expected, he'd gotten protective of her. Maybe overprotective.

"Yeah, sorry..." he conceded.

"No, I'm sorry." Anna spoke up. "I didn't mean to gloat. Today was so much fun, I didn't think how you had to work..."

"We still had fun, Anna." Elsa assured her, taking her hand. "We didn't get to try any of the games, but we were still happy to see everyone having a good time. We... lived vicariously through you."

She and Anna chuckled at the half-joke, and Jack nodded his agreement with the Queen.

"Why don't you try the games now?" Olaf piped up optimistically.

"The Festival is over, Olaf." Elsa pointed out.

"Yeah, but the games are still here." The snowman missed the Queen's point entirely. "Can't we play them anyway? Don't they still work without the Festival? Wait, don't they? Are they magic?"

"Well, yes, they still work, but..."

Olaf – and everyone else – waited, but Elsa didn't finish her thought.

"But what?" Olaf asked.

"Actually..." Jack spoke up, draping his arm across Elsa's shoulders. "I'm gonna side with the snowman on this one. Why don't we give 'em a try? They're still here, they still work. We can't win any prizes, but we can still have fun, can't we?"

Olaf and Jack had a point. All around them, booths and attractions still stood, ready for use. They were all so colourful, and held so much promise of amusement, though devoid of any people, they were reminiscent of a ghost town. They would all be taken down and stored away before noon tomorrow. But until then...

While all the game booths had been emptied of prizes and money for fear of looters, the actual games were still set up. Few of them actually required an operator to make them function. And without said operators or anyone else around, there was no one to stop the royal sisters, snowman, ice harvester, mythical being, and reindeer from helping themselves.

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea..." Anna agreed, excitement already starting to build on her face.

"That's three all in favour!" Jack pointed out triumphantly. "Kris, Sven? How about you two?"

Kristoff and Sven looked surprised for a moment, then exchanged looks. On the one hand, both were rather tired from all the sleigh rides they'd given today, and wanted nothing more than to head back to the castle and wind down for the night (as they'd been doing when this whole conversation started). But on the other, the pair would be lying if they said they hadn't wanted to participate in the Festival as patrons at least once today. Watching the people of Arendelle at play all day, the iceman and reindeer had been envious more than once.

Maybe one or two rounds won't hurt. Kristoff thought to himself, on both is behalf and Sven's.

"Sure." he finally said. "We're game."

He had no idea how fast he would come to regret those words.

"Elsa?" Jack turned back to the Queen. "Whaddya say? I mean, I know you're the Queen, but I'd say the majority in this case..."

As everyone watched, Elsa rolled her eyes, but cracked a smile nonetheless.

"Okay." she relented. "Let's try some of the games."

Right on cue, Anna, Olaf and Jack all cheered jubilantly at once.

"All right, where do we start?" the Princess asked, looking around. Her eyes landed on the attraction closest to the group, and her face fell. "Uh, not that one."

"Why, what is it?" Jack asked, curious.

It wasn't an unfair question, as it didn't look like a typical festival booth game. In fact, there was no booth at all. Two short towers stood on opposite ends of what appeared to be a very large, square pool. Said "pool" wasn't even five feet deep, and it was packed to the brim not with water, but snow (which Elsa had created). A narrow beam of wood connected the platforms at the top of each tower, essentially bridging the gap.

"It's a balance game." Elsa explained. "Cross the bridge without falling into the snow, and win a prize."

"So why not this one?" Jack queried.

To his surprise, Kristoff snorted.

"Anna? Balance?" he told everyone. "Those aren't words that go together."

A faint blush spreading across her cheeks, Anna fumed.

"I'd like to see you do better." she grumbled.

"Challenge extended." Jack chimed in.

"Done." the iceman responded.

Seconds later, he found himself on one of the elevated platforms overlooking the snow pit. Years of experience in high, cold, precarious places made this anything but a daunting experience. By his estimate, it was a seven foot drop to almost five feet of fresh powder snow, no way even a five year-old could get hurt. His only concern was that, if he did fall, it would be with one leg either side of the beam, resulting in a hard impact against certain valuables.

"Show us how it's done, handsome!"

"Good luck!"

"You can do it, Sven! I mean, Kristoff!"

"Go for the gold, Kris!"

Looking to the right, "Kris" saw his five friends below, watching eagerly (either to see him triumph or make a fool of himself). As always, Anna's radiant eyes, both teasing and loving at the same time, were like the centrepiece of this sight, spellbinding him and spurring him on. He wanted whatever she wanted, and right now, that was to play and win this.

Motivated, Kristoff returned his gaze forward and took the first step. Though the beam wasn't slippery, it was very narrow, barely even six inches wide (the only thing that kept it and the people on it up was a series of wooden pillars underneath), and he had big, broad feet to begin with. It truly was a game of balance, and before he'd even taken his fourth step, Kristoff had to extend both arms to either side of himself.

It's okay. he told himself. Keep it steady, man. Just crossing a frozen lake through a safe zone. A really, really thin safe zone. Just put one foot in front of the other... no more weight on the left than the right... Yes! I'm halfway there! I'm-

Halfway there was as far as he made it. Just as he took his eighth step, he lowered his foot just a little too soon. The side, not the sole, of his boot touched the beam, and he lost all concentration. Despite his best efforts, his weight swung to the right, his arms made mindless circles in the air and, with a cry of protest, he fell. There was a fraction of a second where gravity seemed to go haywire, and then poof! He sank partway into the familiar feeling of powder snow.

Kristoff could hear the mixture of laughter and cheers (and in Sven's case, huffing and snorting) coming from his friends before he even lifted himself out of the snow. With an amused sigh and eye roll, he clambered over to the edge of the pit and grinned sarcastically.

"Did I at least beat Anna's record?" he asked.

Once Kristoff had climbed out and dusted himself off, Elsa had already reached the top of the tower. They all watched and offered words of encouragement as she stepped out onto the beam, but all they received in return was a brief smile. The Queen was too focused on the task at hand to do anything more.

Even that wasn't enough, though. Barely five steps out, her leg wobbled at the ankle, she lost her balance, and fell – right into the arms of Jack, who had taken off the second her fate was sealed. From the faint "aww..." he heard from right next to him, Kristoff could tell Anna was practically melting at the sight.

"Maybe I should do this without my heels next time." Elsa suggested with a helpless smile.

"Barefoot is always better, Snow Angel." Jack replied. "Take it from me."

"Why don't you prove it?"

Jack chuckled as he turned, descended, and set Elsa back on her feet with the rest of the group. Then, without warning, he jumped high into the air and landed on the raised platform like everyone else, courtesy of his trusty staff.

"Hey, hold on there, mister!" Anna suddenly spoke up. "Hand the stick over, we're not letting you cheat with it!"

Jack snickered.

"Who needs it?" he crowed back.

With a twirl, the Guardian raised his staff, then tossed it toward Anna. Knowing his Feisty Pants would wimp out of catching it at the last second, Kristoff grabbed it out of the air.

"I had it!" Anna protested.

"Sure you did." Kristoff responded with a grin.

But the Princess was no longer paying attention; her eyes, like Elsa's, Olaf's, and Sven's, were turned toward the balance game and the one playing it. Following their gaze, Kristoff watched as Jack took the first two steps onto the beam. To his surprise, the task seemed effortless to the mythical being. He didn't seem to be making any effort to keep his weight evenly displaced, nor was he keeping his eyes on the beam in front of him at all times. If anything, he seemed to be out for a leisurely stroll in the park.

"Check it out!" Jack called, covering his eyes with his palm and turning his head as if to look over his shoulder. "I can do this blindfolded!"

Kristoff didn't need to look to know that all his fellow onlookers were mesmerized and tensed up at the sight; he was feeling a little of both himself. It was irrational, of course. All the snow in the pit would cushion Jack's impact if – when – he fell. But it was still a natural reaction to seeing someone do something so reckless that was doomed to end in failure.

At least, it seemed that way in theory. To Kristoff's immense surprise, Jack continued on easily. Deprived of his sight, the Guardian did seem to be feeling his way along, as anyone else would in his shoes. But his movements were much less tentative and slow. If his foot ever failed to touch the wooden beam, he would just adjust its position as if it were no big deal.

"Showoff!" Anna rebuked with a grin.

"I'm not showing off!" came the answer. "This is showing off!"

Ramming the point home, Jack lifted a foot as if to take a step, but then stopped. Then, to everyone's shock, he spun on the spot, faced back the way he came, and stepped back. This was when he finally allowed himself sight, but he still didn't use it; he kept his eyes facing squarely before himself as he strode backward with a bit of a spring in his step.

"Wow!" Olaf cried, astounded. "Way to go, Jack!"

"I thank you!" the Guardian of Fun gloated. "Thank you very mu- aahhh!"

Everyone's hearts leapt into their throats as Jack's foot missed the beam, and he sank down, his balance lost. It looked like Jack was headed for an impact with the snow below, however soft.

That was until he somehow managed to get both forelegs over the beam. The Guardian dangled upside down from the beam like a bat, to his audience's amazement. From the corner of his eye, Kristoff saw Olaf squint, confused.

"Wait a minute, is my head on upside down again?" the snowman questioned, checking with his wooden hands.

Leaning his head back as far as he could, Jack grinned up at them.

"Aww, I knew you all cared." he gloated. "You're all white as snow!"

Elsa finally exhaled, and that was all it took for the group to laugh out the tension that had flared to life in their chests. Taking advantage of their amusement, Jack swung back and forth a couple of times, building up momentum, threw himself straight up into the air, and landed on the beam in a handstand.

"Now this is how a Guardian does it!" he said.

With that, Jack crossed the remainder of the beam and reached the opposite platform with a cartwheel. Completely enthralled, the rest of the gang clapped and cheered for the first winner of the night.

"This is how an acrobat who's had one too many does it." Kristoff quipped quietly.

"You're just jealous that he made it and you didn't." Anna replied brazenly, giggling all the same.

Kristoff rolled his eyes with a smile as he wrapped an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, not feeling jealous in the least.

Not yet.

The next game the gang – captained by Anna and Olaf, it seemed – took an interest in was a more exterior game than a shooting gallery as well; another game of full-body physical coordination. Kristoff felt more confident about this one.

The game's construction was simple, just like the last one's. Two posts, both over fifteen feet tall, stood some six yards apart, with a beam bridging their summits. A netting of thick rope had been draped over this crossbar, its four corners firmly fastened several yards from the bases of the posts. Overall, the whole thing looked rather like a giant A-frame tent, but with a fabric that was full of holes.

The game's purpose was even simpler, though hardly easy. Competing players had to climb from one end of the rope netting to the top, then climb down to the other end as a race. Everyone always thought it looked easy, but it was an exhausting game to the uninitiated. The only thing easy about it was how one's foot could sink between the ropes, or worse, lose one's grip and come to dangle upside down from the net.

It was probably because of this that Elsa elected to sit this one out, content to watch from the sidelines. And the rope ladder was too steep for Sven to make it over no matter which side he started on. That left Kristoff, Anna, Olaf and Jack to brave the climb.

"I dunno what you've got to worry about." Anna tried to reason with her sister. "You climbed the North Mountain in one night. This mountain shouldn't be a challenge, it doesn't even have wolves!"

"The North Mountain was really more of a walk than a climb, Anna." Elsa pointed out with a smile. "Anyway, I'm too tired for any races now. I've been on my feet all day. Sven and I will be referees."

"Good luck, Sven!" Olaf called from the base of the netting. "I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines!"

Stretching out the kinks in his joints, Kristoff chuckled at the snowman's backward logic as Anna took her place alongside him. He beamed down at her, the tiny little thing who was unafraid to climb steep rock or pick fights with giant snowmen. She was right; compared to all that, this game would be child's play.

"What?" Anna asked.

Kristoff snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he'd been smiling at his girlfriend for several long seconds.

"Um... guess you won't be cheering for me this time, huh?" he quipped.

"You're going down, my mountain man!" the Princess playfully growled in reply. "And I'm going up!"

"I take that as a challenge, troublemaker." Jack remarked.

"Everybody ready?" Elsa called.

Everyone made themselves so, and exchanged grins of anticipation.

"On your marks... get set... go!"

The climb began. Kristoff didn't hurry, knowing that slow and steady would win this race, but he was in the lead immediately. To his right, Anna wore a mixed expression of amusement and frustration as she struggled to reach one rung, secure her foot in another, and still somehow hurry. It was as if keeping track of her own limbs had suddenly become a challenge, and Kristoff almost laughed. Olaf, further down the row, seemed to be having even more of the same trouble. His foot got stuck in one of the netting's holes, and so was left behind completely as he jumped to the next rung. That was bound to affect his performance later on, Kristoff couldn't help but think sympathetically.

And to his left, Jack was...

Not there? Kristoff thought quizzically.

As he took the next step, the iceman's gaze swept around the "racetrack", intent on finding the absent contestant (had he given up?). To his astonishment, he found him further up the netting ladder than any of them! Jack was climbing with an ease that a primate would be envious of! As Kristoff watched, the rope netting barely bent under the Guardian's inhuman weight, as if he were climbing solid wood.

Kristoff mentally hit himself in the head. He'd witnessed the evidence of Jack's agility multiple times already. Even without his trusty staff, the Guardian of Fun's weight didn't work like ordinary people's. No wonder he was able to keep his balance in such precarious-

So consumed with his competition's actions, Kristoff hadn't paid enough attention to his own, and lost his footing. His entire leg sank through an opening in the netting, and he barely managed to stop a length of rope from coming all the way up between his legs. His lead – on Anna and Olaf, at least – was lost.

"Hurry up, Kristoff!" he heard Anna exclaim as she pulled ahead. "Can't let him beat ya again!"

No, I can't. Kristoff found himself ruefully thinking – then realized it.

As he heaved his leg out of the hole and himself back into the running, the ice harvester couldn't figure out where this newfound desire for victory came from. It certainly hadn't been there when he'd been at the starting line. There hadn't been anything at stake then and, as far as he knew, there still wasn't now. And yet, as he looked up and saw Jack reach the top with his trademark smirk, he wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his boyish face with a landslide first place.

But why? What did he stand to gain by that now that he hadn't at the start?

Nearly missing another rung on the ladder to the top, Kristoff redirected his thoughts to his actions and nothing more. Rationally, he accepted defeat within himself. He'd never had a chance, and he recognized that now. Whatever he stood to lose now, he would take it like a man and move on.

And I'll make up the difference in the next game. he added, still strangely.

As he reached the top, he saw that Jack had already made it down to the finish line, where Elsa and Sven were waiting, fulfilling the iceman's prediction. Anna and Olaf made it down soon after, commenting on the Guardian's skill with amazement.

They seemed to have forgotten him almost completely.

But as Kristoff watched the exchange, the way Elsa celebrated her boyfriend's victory and Anna looked on with awe, he began to see what was at stake.

That burning competitiveness Kristoff was feeling had barely had time to abate before the start of the next game. And better still, he was sure he had a fighting chance this time.

Under any other circumstances, he really shouldn't have. In the short time he'd gotten to know them, Kristoff had come to learn that throwing snowballs accurately was as easy as breathing to the Guardian and the Snow Queen (he had to remind himself that Elsa didn't love to be called that). And this – a snowball shooting gallery – was a game of nothing but throwing snowballs. But thanks to Anna, the playing field was level. She'd stipulated the rule that neither bringer of winter would use their control over ice to hit the bullseyes. It would be down to good, old-fashioned aim and understanding about the weight and mass of snow. When it came to the latter, no one outclassed an ice harvester.

"All right!" Olaf declared from inside the booth. "We're ready to go!"

Given the snowman's skill at throwing snowballs (not that anyone could blame him, with literal stick arms like his), he'd opted to be the game operator instead, setting up the tin cans that would serve as targets. Now, Anna, Elsa, Kristoff and Jack each had a set of five cans to knock over, and five snowballs to do it. If anyone failed to knock even one down, they would be eliminated from the running. The one who knocked over the most cans would be the champion.

And that champion will be me. Kristoff mentally added – and then shook his head, still unsure where this desire to win (to see Jack taken down a notch or two) had come from.

"So are we!" Anna responded, then faltered. "I mean... we are, right? Does anyone need to warm up, or...?"

"I'm good, Feisty Pants." Kristoff assured her warmly.

"Then here we go!" Jack proclaimed with anticipation. "Just say the word, Olaf!"

All exchanging grins of excitement, Kristoff, Anna, Elsa and Jack all took up their positions, weighed snowballs in their hands, and sized up their targets in the booth. Stepping out of the line of fire, Olaf raised an arm, paused dramatically, and...

"The word!" he cried, slashing downward.

All four contestants fired at once, and four cans went down with metallic bangs. In a fashion typical to her, Anna didn't hesitate to grab more snowballs, take aim, and throw them in the least amount of time possible. Elsa was a little more cautious, aiming with much more care now that she was forbidden from using her magic to guide the projectile where she wanted it. Jack, Kristoff noticed, also took more time to perfect his aim, but radiated more confidence than Elsa – much like himself, he noted.

With twelve more clangs, twelve more cans went down, leaving each player with one more. Anna was the first to hit her last target, granting her access to the next round. Kristoff was close behind, as was Jack. And Elsa-

"No!" she cried with a grin as her last snowball didn't even graze her target.

Out of nowhere, the remaining can was knocked over by a gust of wind with perfect timing.

"Hey, it's down!" Jack pointed out with a smile. "See, you hit it, Elsa!"

"Very funny, Jack." came the Queen's reply. "Guess I need more practice throwing without magic, huh?"

"Just a bit, yeah." Anna responded with a shrug. "And then there were three!"

"Oh, bring it on, troublemaker." Jack provoked her smugly.

"I will, mister Frost! I'll bring it on, and you're gonna be sorry you asked!"

Standing between the Princess and the Guardian, caught in the middle of their competitiveness, Kristoff felt like the adult with two kids. In that, some of his own desire to win subsided.

Jack said nothing more, only brought a finger down on the counter before them. Frost crept across its entire surface, and from it, five more perfect snowballs grew before each of the remaining players like plants.

"All set!" Olaf called, then turned to Elsa, who had joined him. "Can I say it again?"

"Go ahead." she answered with a chuckle. "But when Jack said 'say the word'..."

As Elsa explained, Kristoff, Anna and Jack all readied themselves again, winding up to win. A moment of tension built as Olaf raised his arm, paused, and then gave the order.

"The word!" he said again, liking it better than "fire".

Three snowballs flew, and-

"NO! NO!" Anna almost shrieked. "AW, COME ON!"

Sure enough, her snowball had sailed right by her intended target by a long shot, while Kristoff and Jack had both hit their marks. Everyone stared at the Princess, the game forgotten, as she vented her frustration.

"Darn it, darn it, darn it! How could I miss on the first shot?! I said I was gonna bring it on, and I left it at home!"

Anna stared up at the night sky and groaned to herself. A moment of silence passed, and she looked back to her friends, who were waiting to see if there was more.

"You gonna be okay there, Feisty Pants?" Kristoff broke the silence.

"Yeah, I'm good." Anna replied with a shrug, her annoyance abruptly gone. "All right, Kristoff, show 'em who's boss!"

With the moment passed, the two remaining contestants returned to the game, and more cans went down loudly. Anna, Elsa and Olaf all cheered enthusiastically every shot. Sven, though tired, looked excited for his longtime friend to win.

Taking aim once again, Kristoff glanced to the right as he heard another of Jack's targets go down. With everyone's eyes on him and their words of encouragement – especially Anna's – in his ears, that flame-like eagerness to triumph over the Guardian burned to life once again. Not only did he want to win; he wanted his victory to be witnessed by them all, especially the woman he loved.

"I'll give you this, Jack." Kristoff growled (challenged) with a smirk. "You're not a bad shot."

"Not bad, huh?" the mythical being echoed with a grin of his own. "Don't feel bad. I've had three-hundred years to get the hang of this."

As if to prove his point, Jack picked up his fourth snowball, threw it – behind his back – and knocked down his fourth target this round. From the cheers Anna, Elsa and Olaf gave, not only were they thrilled, they were surprised by the Guardian's skill.

Those cheers... Anna's cheers... how Kristoff wanted them to be for him. How he wanted to astonish her like Jack did...

Changing strategies, Kristoff moved his hand just a little further back, out of his sight, then made a few split-second calculations in his head... began to wonder if this was such a good idea... remembered that Anna was watching... then swung his forearm upward. The snowball travelled in an arc over his head, into the booth, and impacted against the target he was aiming for – at least, its base. The can still went down, but it was very close to being a miss – all because of a stunt that could easily have backfired.

But in Kristoff's mind, it was all worth it again when he received the spectators' response. Impressed looks came over all their faces, and they offered words of praise.

"What a shot!" Anna effused, latching onto his arm possessively. "You've been holding out on me, handsome!"

Kristoff barely even heard the others' words when Anna's voice and Anna's eyes and Anna's smile were all he could focus on. The Princess was looking at him – him, for God's sakes, an ice harvester who'd been orphaned at a young age, had long gone without a real home, and still had pretty much nothing to offer – like he was some sort of idol or hero, and it made his world feel right.

"You're not a bad shot yourself, Kris." another voice broke through to his world. "How about we wrap this up? One more shot each?"

Following Anna's gaze, Kristoff smirked at Jack, not even noticing how innocent the look on his face was.

"You're on." he accepted the challenge.

The two young men took up their last snowballs and their positions, eyeing their targets. Seeing the way Jack moved, Kristoff deduced that he wasn't going to try anything fancy. That was good, because he wasn't sure he himself had any other trick shots he could count on. It would be a straightforward pitch for them both, and he prepared to make it. Shifting his grip on his projectile, Kristoff took careful aim – peeking over at Jack, the competition, a few times, admittedly.

That split concentration was probably why only one of the two targets went down.

Kristoff felt the notoriety he'd built up this game come crashing down around him like a house of cards. Elsa and Olaf's adulation was nothing but noise now, because it wasn't directed at him, and Anna's groan of disappointment outright felt like a stab through his chest and, to his surprise, he couldn't help but snarl to himself, bringing his hands down – not hard, but with a little more force than necessary – on the counter.

At the surprised looks he got, Kristoff hastily threw on a smirk and acted like it was no big deal.

"So close!" he joked, not feeling the humour in the least.

Even as Anna patted him sympathetically on the back, though, Kristoff couldn't help but feel like his and Jack's skills were nowhere near "so close".

The ice harvester went into the next game still feeling plenty of need to win, but no actual chance at it.

Out on the still-frozen fjord, Elsa and Jack had set up a miniature golf course this morning. Obstacles like uphill inclines, tunnels, loop the loops, traps, and so much more – all forged from ice with incredible detail – had been built at every putting green ("green" being a relative term), making each level progressively more hazardous than the last. It had been very popular today and, having tried it themselves, Anna and Olaf had been eager to show it to their friends.

Under any other circumstances, Kristoff would have been happy to oblige. This was the perfect game for them all to play after exhausting themselves all day, as it wasn't a game that tested physique. It wasn't even really about experience or precision, either. Having played this game with the trolls a few times in the past, Kristoff knew how often the ball could have a mind of its own. The slightest deformity in the terrain could ruin even the most expert shot from a professional.

On top of that, this was one game Sven could play. Though he of course couldn't handle a golf club, he still had a ball he could putt around with his antlers. This should have put a real smile on Kristoff's face after how much he'd been left out of the last few games.

But the one he wore was brief and fabricated, as he couldn't help but recall every golfing tip he'd ever picked up and put together the best strategies to conquer every green he could.

Worse, every time his eyes so much as passed over Jack, he felt nothing short of irritation. All his witty remarks and his easy wins and his resulting cheers were about as welcome as mosquitoes buzzing around his ears. It was getting harder to keep his own frustration from showing.

"You're up, Kristoff!" Anna called.

Snapping out his reverie, Kristoff looked around the green they'd made it to. This one was an uphill battle – almost literally. The golf hole was at the top of a long incline, and though it wasn't steep, small obstacles peppered it like boulders on a plain, making it so putting a ball all the way up in one shot was almost impossible. The common strategy was to nudge the ball up a little at a time, using the obstacles like steps on a staircase. All of this was only made harder by the fact that the entire course was made of ice.

At the moment, Kristoff wasn't in last place yet. He and Anna were both about halfway up. Elsa and Jack were almost at the top (they both swore up and down that they weren't using their powers to manipulate the course in their favour), while Sven had only begun up the incline. Olaf hadn't even managed that, though he didn't seem bothered.

Walking over to his golf ball, Kristoff brought his golf club – also made of ice – into position. Making diagonal shots uphill so the ball came to rest on little ledges was harder than it looked, and the plummeting mood he was trying to hide wasn't helping.

Once he was sure he had his shot lined up, he moved his club back, gave a gentle swing... and his club got caught on the ice just as it touched the ball, which barely moved. Whether the club was too long or he'd been leaning forward too much – or the world was just out to humiliate him – he didn't know. He sighed with just a little more noise than he needed to.

"You can take that shot again." he heard Jack say from where he stood nearby.

That was it. Kristoff had had enough. As if it wasn't enough that he'd been shown up by this scrawny kid all evening, now he was getting advice – permission, even – from him. It felt like the worst form of pity, and it took every ounce of self-control for Kristoff not to clench his fists, kick his golf ball away, or throw in the towel altogether.

"Yeah, thanks, Jack." he answered a little acidly, said self-control slipping just a little.

He didn't even notice the way Jack blinked in surprise and let his smile disappear at his words, trying desperately to make this shot perfect when he was too busy seething. When his ball safely made it to the next obstacle, he didn't feel successful – just relieved.

"All right, Jack, your turn." Elsa said.

Too busy glowering at Jack's own ball, Kristoff didn't notice Anna come to stand at his side until she spoke.

"Hey, you doing okay?"

Turning, he saw nothing but concern shining in his girlfriend's eyes – either she'd heard how he'd talked to Jack, or noticed his reaction to his latest play – and it replaced his annoyance with regret on the turn of a coin. It amazed him how this tiny little scrap of a Princess could have such power over him, and he didn't resent it at all; he welcomed it.

"Uh, yeah." he responded, trying to sound casual and come up with a good excuse (something about pulling a muscle came readily to mind). "No, yeah. I just, um-"

"Aw, no!" Jack's voice suddenly interrupted. "No, no, no, come back! The hole's that way!"

Looking up alongside Anna, Kristoff was surprised to see a ball rolling back down the artificial hill, slowing only when it bounced off obstacles. Despite Jack's protests, the ball wound up right back where it started. Even Olaf, at the bottom of the incline, was ahead of him now.

"D'awwwww, nuts." Jack groaned with a smile. "Well, here we go again. Your go, Sven."

Unbeknownst to any of them, Kristoff absolutely struggled not to giggle at this turn of events. It wasn't Jack that he wanted to point and laugh at, he realized, just the luck of the draw. Now he was almost in the lead – he had the lead on Jack – all because the Guardian had blown the last shot before reaching the top. A shot that, frankly, should've been easy.

Kristoff's brow furrowed in suspicion as he realized the truth of his thoughts. That shot should have been easy. Jack's ball had been on the last rung of the ladder, so to speak. A putt of average power should have been more than enough to make it to flat, even ground, and the hole it contained; one would have to strike too weakly for their ball to end up all the way back to the start. How had the reigning champion until this point made such a basic mistake?

Unless it wasn't a mistake... he thought. Unless he wanted to lose his lead. But why would he do that?

Kristoff's first notion was that Jack was just being chivalrous for Elsa, letting his girlfriend win. He himself didn't do that often with Anna – he respected her enough not to dumb himself down to let her win (and anyway, most of the time, he would let her have the prize no matter who won a game between them) – but it had happened. But if that were the case, why hadn't Jack been doing that from the start? Why hadn't he let Elsa take the lead so much sooner? Why had he waited until now, when he'd been so close to winning again?

Kristoff realized what else had happened just now; his not-quite outburst.

And in that, it all came together. And he wanted dearly to kick himself.

He had been such an idiot this evening, taking all the games way too seriously and being a complete sore loser because of it. He, Kristoff, the guy who never cared about winning or losing, had done that – played and lost like there was actually something on the line. And really, there wasn't. The only thing that had been on the line was his pride, and that was his own fault. What had he honestly been so afraid of? What did he actually think was going to happen if he kept losing in front of Anna? That she would leave him? That she would decide Jack would make a better boyfriend than him? "Ridiculous" didn't even begin to cover the idea.

It was no one's fault that Jack had centuries of experience to draw on, or that the Guardian of Fun was probably a natural at every game ever played. He'd never meant to humiliate anyone, just make them laugh and have a good time. And Kristoff had been a jerk to the guy who'd done all that.

Now, he had a choice to make; either pretend none of this ever happened and just go peacefully on with the night, or (gulp) do some damage control. As much as it was an even more humbling experience for a guy to make a heartfelt apology to another guy, Kristoff felt too much shame not to say something.

Accepting his fate, he walked down the hill, where Jack was standing by his golf ball and staring up at the others on the green. The grin he offered as the iceman approached was a little strained.

"Hey." Kristoff offered, careful to keep his voice normal.

"Heya." came the casual response.

Kristoff stood next to Jack, watching as Elsa lined up her shot. To an onlooker, this probably just looked like two friends watching their fellows play. But if that onlooker could have sensed the tension between these two, they probably would have walked away immediately.

"You missed that shot on purpose back there, didn't you." Kristoff finally broke the ice. It wasn't a question.

Turning to him, Kristoff found Jack looking at him with a puzzled expression, visibly mulling over the right answer. Apparently, he didn't find it.

"Whaddya wanna hear?" the Guardian asked.

"I'm sorry, Jack." Kristoff sighed. "Sorry I've been such jerk all night. I'm just... I dunno... just not used to being around other guys. Losing to other guys. Especially in front of..."

Not having the heart to say it, Kristoff half-heartedly gestured up to the girls – to Anna. Jack nodded his understanding.

"It's okay." he responded. "I wasn't trying to make you look bad."

"I know."

"And I wasn't trying to show off for..."

"I know."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"So..." Jack started with a hopeful half-smile. "Are we cool?"

Kristoff snorted.

"Yeah." he answered. "That's one word for it."

Jack chuckled in response, and Kristoff patted him amicably on the shoulder.

"Do me a favour, though." the iceman added. "Don't tell anyone about this. Anna will never let me hear the end of it if she finds out."

"Oh, yeah." Jack agreed like it was an unspoken rule every young man knew. "Don't you worry, my lips are sealed."

"Your turn, Kristoff!" Elsa called.

By the time the sun had set completely, the Festival grounds, and all of Arendelle's exterior, had become entirely vacant. Everyone had retreated indoors to shelter from the frigid temperatures, wind down, and fall right to sleep after a long, tiring, exciting day.

Among them were two royal sisters, a burly ice harvester, a living snowman, a reindeer, and a mythical being. All six were curled up in one of the castle's sitting rooms, which was illuminated only by the flames in the fireplace. Most of them had been lulled to sleep by the only two sounds in the room; the crackling of the fire, and Kristoff's song. They would help in taking down all the Festival attractions tomorrow, but for now, they all deserved a little rest after so much work over the last few days and weeks.

The ice harvester sprawled lazily on the sofa to the left of the fireplace, strumming gently on his lute and singing in a low voice. Opposite him, Olaf snored gently as he sat against Sven's reclining form (Kristoff could tell by Sven's breathing that he wasn't asleep yet, but was nearly there). In front of the fire, Elsa was sitting at the foot of a sofa, while Anna was curled up on the floor, her head in her sister's lap. Both were fast asleep, and looked very content. Jack was lying comfortably on the sofa behind them, gently stroking his girlfriend's platinum blonde hair. Occasionally, Kristoff and Jack caught each other looking fondly at the sisters – their girls – and a knowing smile passed between them.

Finishing the latest tune, Kristoff thought for a moment, then picked another quiet one from his mental library.

"You know..."

Having been about to start picking the strings of his lute again, Kristoff paused and looked up at the speaker of those words.

"I can't really sing, and I don't think I've ever actually played an instrument." Jack murmured. "I couldn't make music to save my life."

Perplexed, Kristoff wondered for a moment if the Guardian was asking him for music lessons. But from the smirk on his face, he soon realized what he was saying. His only response was to grin back.

"Just putting that out there." Jack finished, returning his attention to Elsa.

As Kristoff began to thrum and croon again, he let himself feel just a little pleased.

Author's note: Boy, this one was a challenge for me (find out why in the next paragraph). I wasn't originally going to write a second story about Jack and Kristoff, but when this premise came to me, I thought it was too true to life, and had too much potential, to pass up.

That being said, I know about as much about the male urge to show off in front of pretty girls and humiliate all the other guys as Kristoff here does, so you're welcome to tell me how badly I've misinterpreted it.

Thanks for reading!

Mikaelus, November 21st, 2021

PS: Many thanks to everyone who read the last chronicle, Santa & North – which is a lot of people because, according to the traffic graph, it's already got more views in two weeks than four of its predecessors! And those thanks go double for everyone who left reviews and/or suggestions (at the moment, namely my friends Celine and Jackal). Glad you enjoyed!