boredom got a new best friend?
Elsa surmised the importance of propriety as a part of the royal family. She treasured the loyalty and the support her people had given her, and she will offer them a prim and proper princess in return. It was all about give and take. Love and devotion. Foundation and offerings. And-
KNOCK! KNOCK!
Insanity and intolerance!
Ever since the fateful night of her and Jackson's encounter, he had been quite the insistent company. Sometimes, Elsa wondered if Jackson's unrelenting visits were premeditated. Because he emulated the same routine. Every. Single. Time.
The routine in question followed a whimsical process. At eight in the morning, a servant would knock on her door. The servant would only leave once they receive a clear answer from an attentive Elsa. There was a thirty-minute window before they checked up on her again in case she falls behind schedule.
A peaceful thirty-minute window that Jackson Overland gladly took advantage of. He had somehow deciphered her entire schedule, because he would show up at precisely eight-fifteen with prompt hammering on her door. Jack would try to make her open the door for him, and he let her on the fun day ahead of them. She would tell him to go away, and he would audibly pace back and forth with more persistent comments and eventually leave. You would think it would be the end of it, but it wasn't. It continued up until after dinner when she retired back to her room at seven in the evening. She would prepare for bed, and thirty minutes later, another set of incessant knocks would ring.
It was time for the seven-thirty rotation, and she was at her wit's end!
The Princess clasped her wrists behind her back as she gaped at her wooden door, trying to picture the brown-haired boy behind it. She nibbled on her bottom lip at the anticipation of Jack's requests for an open door. It was dreadful enough that she must need to turn away Anna's knocks, and then came Jackson, who had embedded himself in her life.
She wouldn't say she was annoyed, just frustrated. (She was definitely annoyed).
"Hey, Princess," whispered from the keyhole of her door.
Elsa supposed if she happened to be silent as the grave, he would dismiss himself and put an end to his desultory pursuit with a friendship with her. Although, the thought incited a forlorn feeling within her as much as she vehemently refused to admit it.
"I know you're in there!" Jack sang-song.
With a tight voice, she responded, "Please, go away."
A soft thud can be heard from the inside as Elsa can only assume that Jack decided to drop his head directly to her door. Jack's lithe figure impeded the light coming through from the bottom of the door as he swayed side to side.
"But I'm so bored," he dragged out from the other side.
"Play with someone else then," Elsa suggested with a shaky sigh.
Jack resorted to playing with her doorknob, shaking it as he articulated, "I make you a sandwich and this is what I get in return? Unbelievable!"
Though she recognized his playful tone, her consciousness weighed on her. For the first time in forever, Elsa had experienced dizziness from pure, uninterrupted fun. Fun that was actualized by Jack.
She was grateful for the adventure, even smiling as the thought wedges itself from the back of her mind. Yet, here she was dismissing him.
"You know that it's not that," Elsa wistfully professed, "you might get in trouble if you continue to hang outside my room."
In came, a silent beat.
"In trouble…" She heard him mutter to himself, before taking off, his footsteps becoming faint with each step. "That's it, thanks, Princess. I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Jack?" Elsa desperately called, she scurried to her door, placing her ear on it. "Are you there? Jack! What do you mean?"
Elsa staggered backward, her pupils flared in bafflement. Her hand reached up to cover her mouth. "What have I done?"
Jack never missed a day.
He tended to his routine whether Elsa responded with a few words or a low hum. Always on time and always out of breath. There were days where he was lacking his usual enthusiasm, his charm mellowed as if he had the blues. Shifting feet and shaking voice. Those were the days where Elsa was further tempted to reach out. To have the courage to open the door once more, but she never could. It was better to have Jack sad than hurt by her.
Elsa knew better, but…
KNOCK! KNOCK!
"You opened the door!" Exclaimed Jack. Recognizing the volume of his voice, he turned to whisper, "The plate of the sandwich is gone. Princess, you opened the door!"
Elsa huffed vexatiously as she pushed herself off her bed, "Of course I did! You left me with no choice."
"How was it?" She could only imagine his bothersome smirk on his face, "I added tomatoes this time, because of the whole tomato-tomato thing?"
"The what?"
"Nevermind," he mumbled.
Elsa advanced near the door, abstractedly putting both of her hands on the wooden surface. She tilted her head up as if to look at him through the door. She ought to stop humoring him, but it passes the time.
The impeccable Joan of Arc accompanied Anna, or so she'd been told, and Elsa had no one. Or nothing. The only thing to keep her company was the view from the immense triangular window, her books and studies. People surrounded Anna, constantly nurtured by a variety of people within the castle. What Elsa lacked in public presence, Anna flourishingly filled the role for two. Arendellians was smitten by her sister, exalting her very existence. Her sister piqued the attention of their citizens so well, they almost forgot about the eldest Princess.
With a heavy heart, she listened to Anna's cries, laughs, and pleads throughout the day. (How Jack managed to miss her sister each time remained a mystery to her). But Anna was her sister, her responsibility. And her responsibility was to reject Anna for her safety. To make sure the last time doesn't happen again, it was the least she could do for her.
The four walls of her room were becoming smaller, and smaller and the days are getting longer. Even the little communication she had was formal and rigorous, it left no room for a casual chat. Grown-ups were either too careful around her due to her royal rank or too scared of her abilities. And that was just it, she was only around grown-ups.
But Jack was different.
She couldn't help it, because for once, Elsa had someone to herself.
"Jackson, what are you doing?" Elsa hissed through the door.
"Well," he started as he audibly palmed the oaken exterior, "I figured that if I left food outside your door, you would get it."
Elsa's nose wrinkled, involuntarily glaring at the door before her, "Because you would be in trouble if I didn't! The guards will question the sandwi-"
"Exactly!" He exclaimed.
She groaned inwardly.
"But you ate it, so what's the problem?"
"You don't even know that!" Elsa countered, looking at the plate with a few crumbs left in her peripheral vision.
"Right..." He drawled, tapping his foot. He added, "is the Princess of Arendelle a liar?"
Elsa let out a strangled sigh as she kept her frustration at bay. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before asking, "Jack, what are you trying to do?"
"Does it matter? I see this as a victory for both of us," he declared so loudly, Elsa's hair on her arms rose from the fear of guards hearing them yap at each other. "You get a sandwich!"
"How is this a victory for you?" She pointed out in a hushed tone.
"I- I don't-'' he muttered lowly. He turned her door knob slightly, twisting it, "I don't know. It just is."
Jackson fidgeted with the knob even further, Elsa sighed and reached for it as well. She firmly held onto it so he would stop wrenching from the other side, "I appreciate it, I do. And I honestly think your sandwiches are better than the ones I ask Gerda for."
"Really?"
"Really." She confirmed, her lips curling to a smile.
"Does this mean you'll hang out with me?" Elsa could only imagine his expectant look burning through the wooden door.
"It's still a no, Jack." Elsa asserted, putting her hand on her hip. You would think he'd understand her brief explanation in the kitchen that night. But she guessed not. Eyebrows raised, she pointed out, "I told you, I can't leave my room that much."
"Yuck, that's boring," Jack mumbled. He added a saccharine plea, "pretty please?"
"Still no."
"Hmm," Jack huffed, the door shook as she imagined him shifting his weight to lean on the door. "Worth a try."
Elsa should have never given Jackson the satisfaction because the sandwiches kept on coming. As if Elsa was being starved by the royal kitchen! She'll give it to him though, he was persistent. But their antics could only go so far.
It had been two weeks time since Elsa and Jackson's meeting and five days since her late incident.
Elsa's ice and snow had been materializing undesigned. It led to an incident where pointed spikes of ice swelled from the four corners of her room early one morning. Waking up enclosed by icicles terribly frightened Elsa to the point of substantiating snow from her scream. Her breath forged into a misty cloud while frost crept onto her sheets as fresh snow started falling from the ceiling. Her warm tears turned crystalline.
Kai and Gerda came rushing her to her aide, crying out for the guards as they scampered inside the room. They notified her of her parents' absence—overseeing trades in a country she had yet to learn about—and comforted her. It took an hour to extract the icicles from her room and scrape the snow out of the carpet. The guards and servants who helped with cleaning up were thoroughly reminded of their sworn oath to secrecy before leaving. Kai and Gerda wanted to stay, but Elsa pleaded to be unaccompanied for the entire day.
At eight-fifteen in the morning, Jackson knocked.
He asked her how her morning was, but she didn't answer. He asked if she was awake. No answer. He left a plate of sandwiches. He said he'll be back.
At seven-thirty in the evening, Jackson knocked again.
He triumphed at the absence of food outside her door, and he asked her about her day. He mentioned a neighbor that he played with and voiced concerns about his mother working way too hard for his liking.
She doesn't respond. She stared at the door with her knees tucked under her. Dried trails of tears lingered on her pale cheeks.
Although, Jack didn't stop. He continued to talk about his studies and his struggle with reading. He said words were difficult and writing was even more of a pain. He wished he didn't have to read. Or write. Or do math. Or study. Or that she would at least say something because he's starting to feel foolish, please just answer him. Did he do something wrong? Was the sandwich bad?
But she stayed quiet. From then on, she stopped communicating from her end.
On the sixth day of their estrangement, Jackson stopped bringing her sandwiches.
He began slipping forget-me-nots through her door instead.
No one in the world was as miffed as the ten-year-old boy bundled in sheets on his bed. The snow piled inches of its wintery powder outside; the wind hoisted the snow in the air and reeled it in for a whirl. Little snowflakes softened at their fall on Jack's wooden window. The cold, nipping climate had not once been a nuisance for him. It was rather the screeches outside his door that precipitated his vexation. Such vociferous pandemoniums infuriated him to no small extent.
"You can't pay back the 50 kroner you owe?"
"I took care of it, Josephine. No need to be so fraught with worry for something so trivial."
"Making transactions that I do not know about, and trading my mother's jewelry? Is that the triviality you speak of, Alec?"
Alexander and Josephine Overland; their compelling history could be fleshed out in ink. A fairytale that bloomed within Arendelle's own royal walls. Jack loved his parents, but if he had to hear their love story one more time. Heaven forbid that story ever rest.
Alexander, the youngest general to bear the crocuses alongside King Agnarr. And the quick-witted Josephine, a close attendant of Queen Iduna's.
One day, the King called upon General Overland for the monthly reports on the infantries, and the potential new regulations for the guards.
The General was not a blind man, he could sense the eyes of the King shift from him to the Queen passing by the hall. Without the glaring discrepancy in their rankings, Alexander would have teased Agnarr. And he would have asked about the woman who has hair woven from silk and radiance that could agitate the sun, standing tall next to the Queen.
But they weren't Agnar and Alexander, they were the King and the General. So he didn't.
More subtle looks passed by as the servant and the general trade curt nod and mundane niceties. But one day, encouraged with some liquor, he finally approached her to ask her hand in courtship. She said no. But clearly, as they lived in a house with a child together, everything turned out peachy.
As peachy as it could be, at the very least.
Due to an injury that caused a limp on Alexander's left foot, he was forced by hand to retire and leave his esteemed position. Alexander relinquished the division that he held as well. The career he built with blood, sweat, and tears nipped in the bud by Fate.
The King and the Queen granted Alec a large amount of money for his discharge. To be quite frank, Alec received more payment for his abdication in contrast to the others who served under the crocuses' rule.
Josephine tried to be patient, she did. After his injury, he no longer had the desire to work, which only contributed to unpaid bills and fewer portions of food served at the table. Josephine couldn't believe how the love of her life, the father of the child she bore, managed to watch her lay waste to her body as she worked day and night to keep the household afloat.
The drinking and debts continued approaching, and the fights lingered.
Jack's door burst as his father marched right in. He swayed in his steps, but Jack liked to believe that his dad does it for comedic purposes. As if his father was some sort of a jester.
"You are supposed to be in bed already, son." Alec sat at the foot of his bed.
A smirk crept on Jack's face, his eyes twinkled with mischief, "I am in bed."
"Asleep." His father raised a brow, Jack noticed that the lines etched on his father's face were much more visible. He looked tired, his eyes appearing to be sunken. But it's nothing honestly. That's what fathers do, he supposed, get old.
"Let's go to bed, c'mon." He insisted.
"I can't, the sky's awake," Jack grunted as he flung his arm at his sides dramatically
Alec rolled his eyes at the theatrics, "so you're awake?"
Jack nodded with a lopsided grin.
"What will it take you to go out in a light?" Alec implored, brushing his finger through his hair. "A story, perhaps? I could catch hold of some books hidden in the nook and cranny of the house."
"I've heard all of it."
Jack truly had. He didn't like to read, but hearing the stories through his mother's mellow vowels and composed consonants, it reeled him in. The stories of a bearded man with pet reindeers, a man that lived within the swirls of clouds, and gods and goddesses of different regions. There's nothing that he loved more than living vigorously through the characters' victories.
His mother steered away from the talk of monsters, but she talked of good slaying the evil. Some nights, he dreamt of doing the same.
"All of it, huh?"
Although, something else had piqued Jack's interest, "Can you tell me about the castle? Are there really ghosts that reside in the empty rooms and abandoned halls?"
"Jack, there is no such thing as spirits and ghouls. Most especially inside the castle." His father answered pointedly. The lamp beside Jack cast a big shadow on the wall as his father leaned in closer. "Yes, there are empty rooms reserved for guests, but they are clean of cobwebs and phenoms wearing white sheets."
Jack sat up straighter, "but rumors say that people pass through walls in the castle."
Alec clicked his tongue, "mmh. An exaggeration of the truth."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that there are people who pass through the walls in the castle." Alec paused, "just underground."
"Woah!" The little boy exclaimed, his eyes widening at the revelation.
"The late King Runeard oversaw the construction of the castle. He instructed the builders for the development of the underground tunnels. There are also passageways in the castle that connect to other rooms."
The discovery seemed to equate itself to the likes of stories Jack has read. But the fables he has heard about do not compare to the intriguing confession his father divulged.
"Why did the King create tunnels?" Jack asked, his shoulder tense. His father had ensnared him; hook, line, and sinker.
"It's an insightful way of thinking ahead in the event of an enemy siege," a small smile inched around the corner of the former General. "Between you and me son, the secret passageways of the castle are not common knowledge. Keep it between you and me for the sake of the royals and the kingdom?"
"I will, I promise." The ten-year-old promptly shook his head. Jack presented his pinky finger up, peering up intently in front of his father. To which his father curled his pinky with his.
Alec's smile tugged the strings of his heart, Jack almost frowned at the sight. He had nothing but love and respect for his father. But he can't help but think what would have happened if Alec was never terminated from his position. Jack doesn't blame his father, he doesn't even hate him, he simply pitied him.
But wasn't that so much worse?
He was not blind nor deaf, he knew well of their financial situation. It wasn't that his father was injured during a voyage, it was what he did after. The drinking and the gambling, Jack despised it.
Jack returned the smile with hesitancy, his stomach churning at the thought of the subject he imprudently initiated.
Alec let out a chortle to Jack's surprise, "I covertly utilized the passages well in my time as a guard and also as a General. It was convenient, but I had to study it well in case a threat or coup was to arise.
"It helped that no others knew of this knowledge. As far as I know, I was the only one who took part in getting myself acquainted with the tunnels. Enormous, that underground. Some people who knew of it were afraid of the underground's dimension to which I wholly understand why.
"I took it to an advantage to try and find your mother at times, and convince her to let me court her."
"That seemed so fun!" Jack bellowed, his gaze fixed onto his father's eyes.
"Truth be told, it was terrifying at first. But with some rum, I was able to push myself through below ground."
The former general shook his head, pursing his lips. Recognition dawned on his face as he recounted events from his time at the castle. "It would have been fun except your grandmother also worked in the castle. So not only did I have to win your mother's heart, I had to make your grandma swoon too."
Grandma Margaret, may her soul rest in peace. She had a distaste for the man that her daughter ended up marrying, always murmuring to herself obscenities whenever he was around. She has made a grave mistake, Margaret would say.
Although the birth of her first grandchild did ease the impaired relationship between Margaret and Alec. Jack had nothing but fond memories of Grandma Margaret. Yes, she would reprimand and criticize his father. But she also tended to Jack and Josephine's needs to the best of her abilities before she passed of old age.
"I miss grandma," Jack admitted wistfully.
"She was undeniably something," Alec whistled lowly as he escalated to sit next to Jack side by side.
The ten-year-old's nose scrunched at the pungent stench emitting from his father's lapels. Jack put his head down as if to escape from the odor.
"So there's a tunnel for all the royals to come in and out off?" Jack murmured, smoothing the crease of his quilt.
"It's a maze, really. The passageways provided the royals plenty of options for exits. It also yielded bypasses within the castle." Alec responded, his voice coarse.
"Do you push a button? Or are there levers to depress?" Jack inquired, tucking his knees.
It's no secret that the precipitous curiosity that Jack suddenly obtained about the Arendellian Castle was due to a certain blonde Princess, living in that said castle. Jack would be lying if he were to say that the abrupt halt of his friendship with the Princess left him indifferent. Because it didn't, he took it considerately personal. As personal as a child could harness, at least.
As days went by, he dismissed the brininess dwelling somewhere in his heart. The bitterness was unintended of course, and Jack liked to think he was above vindictive senselessness.
But the rejections? It completely sucked.
He actually couldn't bring to detest Elsa, not even a little bit. It was his perpetual fortitude that Jack resented. He knew his place, he was a servant's son and well, Elsa was a freaking Princess! Like royal crown and all, although she doesn't carry one as of now. It'd be too heavy for her little, pretty head. She had the very right to pay no attention to him.
Jack felt inclined to justify Elsa's rejection each day he visited. Because there must have been a reason. Over and over, he proved himself wrong. If she despised him and thought little of him because of his rank, she would have had no problem with calling the guards on him. But she didn't. That counted for something, right?
The more he knocked, the more he filled out Princess Anna's shoes. Shoes that he found out he hated.
Josephine had told him about the youngest Princess' biding her time outside Elsa's door. He saw her too, a couple of times. Always hammering on Elsa's door at the same time and always leaving with a frown.
It's unfair to compare himself to Elsa's sister, he acknowledged that. And it must be so painful for both pairs to separate, knowing that it was the King and Queen's wishes. (Which was a secret that Elsa grudgingly confessed in between bites of his sandwich. As they sat near a secluded corner in the kitchen, she provided no further information after that admission. Elsa never mentioned it again after that night.)
Jack was not supposed to, yet here he was trying to get extra word about the castle.
For what? He implored. This information doesn't benefit him in any way.
"It's not as comical as you think it is, most often than not it's just hidden doors and stairs secluded from normal eyes. So be careful when you're playing in that courtyard; you might just stumble upon a door leading to one of the Princesses."
"Wait," Jack's eyes lit up, "really?"
Oh, for this.
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this is a reminder that i don't have a beta reader. i am not good at catching my own run-ons and sentence fragments. (in the present chapters, the tone will be different.) also i am still trying to figure out the format for so plz be patient.
the story contains past and present jack and elsa. yes, this will be a slow burn. a shit ton of drama too. but i do love hearing from you guys, so comment :)
jelsa shipper and multishipper, i will be trying to update asap. but i am a victim of procrastination, so i hope it doesn't bother you guys too much. 3
adamantjackal, yes, i did use some of the books for some backstories and easter eggs here and there hehe.
(late spring is available on wattpad, ao3, and )
-eve