Jack yawned as he dragged his body down the stairs, blindly running his hands through the walls to guide himself. His stomach growled unsatisfied. It felt like months since the last time he ate, and he couldn't take it anymore.

He knew it was against the rules to leave the dorms after lights out, but what else was he going to do? He was starving, and he had to put some food inside him, or else he would try to eat his pillow on his sleep. He asked his friends to join him, but Hiccup was too paranoid about his unfinished homework, and Andy didn't want to walk all the way to the kitchen, so, on a solo adventure, Jack went.

He walked slowly, careful not to get caught, and he soon noticed something odd: the kitchen lights were on. Jack frowned. The staff should've left hours ago… Unless the breakfast prep had been sabotaged again, and someone's sad prank had been discovered too soon. He scoffed. Amateurs.

He considered turning around and leaving the crime scene and not being involved with the mess, but curiosity won him over, and he peeked through the door's glass. He did a double-take as his brain tried to comprehend what he saw because the kitchen was a mess—actually, 'mess' was an understatement, and in the middle of it all was the goddamn Ice Queen, Elsa fucking Arendelle herself.

"What the hell happened here?" Jack yelled, slamming the door open and rushing inside.

At the sound of his voice, the girl jumped, and the metal bowl she held slipped through her hands, splashing its content all over the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Elsa glared at him as if the roles were reversed, and he was the one responsible for the state of that poor kitchen.

"What are you doing here? It's like someone wrestled a bear in this kitchen!" He gestured with his hands to what he assumed was a war site.

"I'm not in the mood for your jokes right now, Frost." Elsa kneeled on the floor and started wiping the batter with a tablecloth.

"Does that mean there actually is a time when you are in the mood for my jokes?" Jack mocked, walking to the refrigerator and hiding behind its doors. "But seriously, what are you doing here?"

He looked through the shelves of food and waited for her answer, but she gave him none. "Isn't the kitchen off-limits for students, especially after lights out?" he asked.

"Are you seriously trying to quote school rules against me?" She threw her head back and glared at him. "If you must know, I have permission to be here, which I'm sure is not the same for you."

"It'll be our little secret then, gorgeous." With his hands loaded with fillings, Jack shut the fridge's door with his foot and turned to look at her.

He watched her sighing in defeat.

"Just eat and leave."

"Yes, ma'am." Putting two slices of bread in front of him, Jack started working on mounting a sandwich. "So you didn't answer me. What are you doing here?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Frost."

"Hey, no need to be rude," the silver-haired guy said defensively. "I was just trying to make conversation."

She threw the dirty tablecloth in the bowl and got on her feet. "In that case, you can just pretend I'm not here and go on with your life."

"Sheesh, what's up with you?"

The metal bowl clanked against the sink, and he watched her gripping the counter as she said, "Nothing. I wasn't expecting company, that's all."

He frowned. "Seriously, Arendelle, are you okay?"

She turned on her heels and looked at him. "Yes. I'm perfectly fine."

"Yeah, right," Jack scoffed. "Come on, I'll listen."

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him.

"Okay, despite what you may think, I know how to keep a secret."

She rolled her eyes. Then, without another word, she turned around and started washing the dishes.

Jack shrugged, busying himself with the layers of his sandwich. "If you don't tell me, I'll have to stay here with you the whole night, Your Majesty."

She looked at him from over her shoulder, and he looked back at her with an arched eyebrow.

"Is that supposed to be another one of your jokes?"

"You tell me, Arendelle."

Her eyes narrowed even more, and she groaned. "Fine." She averted her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, "Next week is my mother's birthday."

Jack nodded, his brain trying to link that new piece of information with the state of the kitchen.

"And... I thought I could bake her a cake." Elsa's voice grew weaker and shakier with every word that slipped through her lips.

"Oh, so she's coming here?" Jack cheerfully asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

"She's not." Elsa shook her head. "She passed seven years ago."

Fuck. Jack froze. He should have known there was a darker reason behind Elsa's defensiveness. He opened his mouth to apologize, but no words came out. His fists tightened as he tried to think of something else to say, but the more he tried to think, the blurrier his mind got. The silverhead jumped off his stool, and he immediately felt the drop of his blood pressure. But the dizziness helped empty his mind, and he chuckled. "So that's what you were doing? Baking a cake?"

He looked at her, and she seemed torn between offering to aide him and being offended.

Jack laughed reaching out for the sandwich on the counter. "Yeah, I'm gonna go with the 'wrestling a bear' theory."

"Oh, shut up." Elsa closed the tap and turned on her heels. "Like you could do any better."

"When are you going to learn, Arendelle, that I am a man of many talents?" He took a large bite of his sandwich and winked at her. "I can lend you a hand if you kindly ask me to."

She groaned. "No, thank you."

He stopped beside her and leaned back against the sink. He waited for her eyes to meet his, but Elsa just continued to wash the kitchen utensils.

"I'll help you," he said softly.

"I don't need your help, Frost."

He scratched his chin with a frown. "Uh… considering the state of this kitchen, you'll need all the help you can get. I wouldn't be too picky now if I were you."

She stopped for a moment to glare at him. "So you can use this against me later?" she scoffed. "As much as it breaks my heart to do it, Frost, I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer."

"How exactly do you expect me to use your pitying cooking skills against you? Wait, would stuffing your locker with a bunch of bags of flour be an effective attack against you?"

She snorted. "Creative, I'll give you that."

Jack chuckled, munching on his food. "Come on, let me help. Part of Violet's contract, remember?"

"This has nothing to do with the play," she reminded him.

"Of course it has." He shrugged. "We're gonna be in real trouble if one of the lead actresses end up attacked by that bear." Jack leaned in and whispered, "We don't know when it'll show up again."

She eyed him skeptically. "What are you planning?"

He raised both his hands in an appeasing gesture. "Nothing. I am genuinely trying to be nice. You have my word."

"Your word means nothing to me," Elsa mumbled, drying her hands on a clean dishcloth.

Jack sucked in a breath, feigning indignation. "Okay, so there may be a few things you disapprove about me—"

"That's an understatement."

"—But remember this, Your Majesty: I always keep my promises."

She sighed. "If you say so."

Jack nodded. "I do. Now, grab a clean bowl, because your cooking lesson is about to start."

"I never said—"

Jack clapped two times. "Chop, chop, Elsa. You have a lot to learn."

Elsa's eyes hardened. Her piercing blue eyes glared at him, and he felt chills running down his spine. "You're a conceited idiot."

"Thank you," he said nonchalantly. "Get that wooden spoon too, will ya?"

She threw her head back to stare at the ceiling before complying with his demand. "Stupid Jack Frost," she mumbled under her breath. "I wasn't complimenting you."

"What did you say?"

"That it wasn't a compliment, you idiot!"

Jack didn't really understand why a person so stuck up on obeying rules was so bad at baking. Baking was basically measuring stuff and following instructions. She should be able to ace that sort of thing, shouldn't she? But no. Elsa Arendelle had the worst cooking skills he had seen in his whole goddamn life. And he had eaten a mud cake his little sister gave him once...

"I think I figured what your problem is, Your Majesty," he said as he watched her carefully measuring flour with a scale.

Elsa glanced at him and brushed her bangs off her face. "Did you now?"

He shrugged, leaning his body forward and resting his elbows on the counter. "You're so worried about the outcome that you lose track of the path to get there."

Elsa hummed absentmindedly.

He continued, "And you try to do everything at once because you're a control freak, but you have no idea what you're doing, and you start to feel lost and overwhelmed. You panic and that's when shit goes down." He shrugged. "Next thing you know, you're wrecking the kitchen and making it look like there was a bear partying hard inside."

She huffed, picking the measuring cup and walking towards him. "Done. What's next?"

Jack sat up, pulling the batter bowl closer to him. "Sift the flour while I mix."

Elsa nodded and did as she was told, sifting some of the flour and watching as he got rid of the clumps with a whisk. He expertly swirled the batter in circles, the patterns seeming to mesmerize her.

"You okay, Arendelle?" he asked noticing her unblinking gaze.

"How do you do that?" she blurted out.

Jack shrugged, gesturing for her to pour more flour inside the bowl. "Mother makes me babysit when I go home. My sister likes to make cupcakes."

"You have a sister?" Elsa asked. "How old is she?"

"Nine."

Elsa frowned. "I don't remember meeting her. Does she attend here too?"

He turned his face away from her and chortled, shaking his head. "No, she… she's homeschooled."

Jack suddenly got on his feet, pushing the bowl towards the girl. "I think this is enough mixing. Pour the batter into the pan and pop it in the oven."

Elsa bit on her lower lip, and the crease between her brows hardened. "Sure..."

He rolled his eyes. "Relax, not even you can fuck that up."

"Thank you for the reassurance," she grumbled, scraping as much batter as she could from the sides of the bowl.

Jack watched with amusement as she carried the pan with tiny movements. It was almost like she was handling a bomb, not an unbaked dessert.

She shut the oven door and turned towards him with a satisfied smile on her face. "Done."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Nice."

"What's next?"

"We wait," Jack said. "Thirty minutes and you should check it."

"Alright." Elsa nodded, and maybe he imagined it, but he thought he heard some disappointment in her voice.

"Now, onto your next lesson." He beckoned her with a hand. "A chef must always keep their station clean."

Elsa picked the used utensils and was headed towards the sink when he stopped her with a hand on her upper arm.

"What are you doing?" he asked exasperated.

"Was I not supposed to clean these up?"

"Not like that!" Jack snatched the bowl from her hands and scraped a dollop of batter off it. He licked his finger and moaned as sugar coated his tastebuds.

Elsa laughed amused. "Enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

He pushed the batter towards her, but she politely declined the offer.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "How can you not want—please, tell me you've had leftover batter before."

The girl just shrugged in reply.

"Are you kidding me? What kind of childhood did you have?" Jack shouted.

"You know, you're not really supposed to eat raw batter—"

"Yeah, you're not allowed to say anything else until you taste some of it." He slid the bowl in her direction one more time.

She continued to eye him with skepticism, and he returned the glares in intensity. At last, she groaned, throwing her head back, and took the tiniest bit of batter with her index finger. Elsa stared at her finger, and he noticed her hesitancy.

"I'm waiting!" Jack sang, giving her the final push she needed.

He waited for her expression to change, but she remained as stoic as always.

Elsa looked up with an arched eyebrow. "It's raw eggs and flour."

"That's it?" Jack threw his arms in the air. "I try to show you one of the greatest joys in life, and that's how you thank me? How considerate of you."

"Apologies for my insensitivity," she said with a laugh. "You're right. I have no idea how I lived sixteen years of my life without experiencing the incredible delights of cake batter."

Jack scrunched his nose as he looked at her. "You could dial down on the sarcasm a bit, Your Majesty, and be honest for once."

"I'll think about it." Elsa smiled, returning his gaze as she suited herself to more batter.

Watching her, Jack crossed his arms and laughed.

"What?"

"Who would've thought? Elsa Arendelle does know how to make a joke," he explained.

She laughed as well. "Don't let that surprise you. There's more to me than you care to find out."

Jack looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Do you want me to?"

Elsa frowned, then shook her head. "No. Not really."

"Huh." His eyes didn't leave her. He studied her, trying to make sense of things.

"Are we done? I should really clean these up," Elsa rushed to gather the forgotten dirty items.

"Give me that!" Jack glowered at her and reached for the bowl and scooped up a fingerfull of the cake mixture. "Haven't you learned anything, Arendelle?"

She rolled her eyes and moved to the sink. "Just don't come crying when you get sick for eating all that batter."

He scoffed, "Are you trying to jinx me?"

"I don't need to," Elsa said. "Your terrible eating habits will do the job on their own."

"Don't you have dishes to take care of?" Jack grumbled.

"No need to be so sulky, Frost," she mocked.

"You know, I think I liked you more when you were an emotionless dictator..."

She had her head propped up on her left hand as she played with the whisk with the right one. Her brain had slowed down as they waited for the cake to finish baking, and she had to make an effort not to let her eyes close for too long.

"My mom used to bake cakes when my sister and I were little," she said, trying to keep herself awake.

"Really?" Having finished the bowl, Jack had switched into licking a wooden spoon clean.

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. "Yeah, I thought cooking would help to keep her close. Stupid, right?"

Jack put the spoon down and looked at her. "Not really."

She looked down, eyes focusing on the whisk she twirled between her fingers. A shy smile crossed her lips. "Anna and I would storm into the kitchen for attention whenever she was baking." Elsa chuckled quietly. "We would lose track of time and would have to scrape off layers of burnt cake before eating." She relaxed, replaying those childhood memories in her mind, and her eyes slid shut.

"Do you miss her?"

Her eyes opened and focused on the guy sitting across from her. He looked startled.

"Sorry, dumb question. Ignore that."

Elsa sat up, brushing a hand through the length of her hair. "I don't remember that much about her," she said, her voice coming out close to a whisper. "All I have are these scattered pieces of memories. I remember her playing the piano, and singing us lullabies, and baking… But I feel like they're starting to fade..."

She felt the knot on her throat, and she swallowed hard to stop unwanted emotions from surfacing. "And… I fear that I'll forget her."

"Elsa…" Jack called quietly, his voice full of worry and melancholy.

She held up a finger and pointed it at him. "Don't."

"What?"

"Don't tell me how sorry you are, and don't you dare tell me how my mother must feel about me or whatever else you think would help, because it never helps." She groaned, pressing her hands to her fingers.

"Well, I wasn't gonna say that," he said with a shrug. "I—"

Elsa's phone went off, the screen shining brightly to let them know that the time was up. She reached out for the device and silenced it.

Jack smirked. "I was gonna tell you to check the oven."

She huffed, getting on her feet and looking for mitts. "You have impeccable timing."

"Thank you."

Jack went to peek inside the oven and turned to her with a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Is it done?" she asked, but he just stood there, grinning at her with his arms crossed. So she opened the oven, holding her breath, and pulled the cake out. She put the cake on the mat Jack has set for her, and took a moment to inspect their baked confection. The cake had risen, and its top had goldened perfectly. She sighed relieved.

"Too early to relax just yet, Your Majesty," Jack said, passing her a knife. "Ready for the final test?"

They unmolded the cake on a platter and cut a generous piece for each one of them. With every task they accomplished, Elsa's smile widened a little. She handed Jack his plate and watched for his reactions.

After the third bite in silence, she asked, "So?"

"It's good," he said, chewed cake still in his mouth, and gave her a thumbs-up.

"It is?" Her entire face lit up, and she clasped her hands in front of her.

Jack shrugged. "I mean, for an amateur."

Her smile fell as she glared at him.

"It was edible," he continued. "Good for a first try. Or… first try with proper tutoring."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Of course you would take the credit to yourself."

He shook his head. "I'm not. You did pretty great." Then, he winked at her. "With a little bit of help."

"You're an idiot."

"Thank you."

"It's not a compliment," she mumbled, making him laugh.

"Well, it's been fun, Arendelle." Jack yawned exaggeratedly. "But my bed is calling me."

Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "You're kidding."

"Can't live without me, huh?" He leaned over, his face hovering inches over hers.

"As if," she snorted, not breaking eye contact with him. "Are you seriously gonna leave me to clean everything up by myself?"

He chuckled, the distance between them lessening. "You were gonna have to do it if I didn't show up anyway."

Her voice lowered to a whisper. "You're unbelievable."

He was smiling as if the situation was too amusing for him not to. "Thank you."

She rolled her eyes, turning away from him.

"See you in the morning, beautiful." He shoved his hands inside his pockets and strolled towards the door. "And watch out for that bear!"

"Get out of here!" she shouted, but he was already gone.

As she started cleaning up, she saw a sad half-eaten sandwich lying on the countertop, and it made her hiss. Stupid Jack Frost had spent all that time in the kitchen, and he had forgotten to eat his goddamn food. She threw the remains of the sandwich in the trash, grumbling to herself about what an idiot he was.