The words Jack Frost and responsible do not go well together. They don't go at all. Daily, Jack would get himself into trouble. No one was there to set any rules for him. No one was there to tell him what was unacceptable.

Elsa, on the other hand, never had that opportunity. Sure, she was in her room all day. But she was a Princess. Her whole life was rules and being a good little legacy to her parents. Not to mention controlling dangerous ice powers.

But today—the royal 18-year-old was about to get a surprise.

They were in the middle of another lesson. Jack was trying to teach her how to undo her work, how to erase. He'd had her cover the east wall of her room with ice, much to her dismay, as practice.

"You gotta breathe in," Jack was saying. He was sitting on her bedpost, one leg hanging down, secretly covering the end of her bed with a bit of frost. She'd have cold feet when she settled down that night. He couldn't wait to see her face. He loved causing ungraceful reactions in his uptight friend.

Elsa, facing the wall with her gloves off, did take a deep breath. But it was more out of irritation than obedience. Jack had been giving her the same instructions since he'd showed up that morning. He was as patient as ever, but she could hear the boredom in his voice, however well he concealed it. She hadn't been able to retract a single shard for hours.

"Nothing is happening," Elsa huffed, turning away with her arms folded. "How do you do it?"

Frustration was a familiar feeling to Jack. He slipped off the bedpost, leaning his staff against it and strolling to her side. How did he do it? He just felt it. He inhaled, concentrated, and pulled it all back in. It was hard to explain, so it was hard to teach. It took loads of sit-still-and-pay-attention, something he had never been good at anyway. It had taken him a whole generation to master, and it was still difficult. How was he supposed to have Elsa learn it in a week?

She had insisted on learning it that quickly, too. She was worried she'd make a mistake, do something big, get her powers discovered. Maybe she'd hurt someone. She wanted to be able to take it all away as fast as possible. Jack understood her fears, even if he believed she was smart enough to figure this one out without his help. If she could toss it out, she could reel it back in the same way, couldn't she? But something was missing. Something else was needed to thaw her particular magic. Something he hadn't thought of, and neither had she. They were stumped.

"I dunno," Jack admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I just focus, I guess."

Elsa sighed. "I am focusing. It's not working."

"Hey, don't get loud with me, I'm just the sub." Jack put his palms up. "Some things you gotta teach yourself, Princess."

Elsa looked at the ice on the wall, wishing she hadn't demanded this particular lesson. Someone was probably going to come in and see it and wonder what was going on. Probably Anna. That was how her life worked. Just her luck. If she didn't control herself, if she didn't understand what Jack was trying to educate, she could end up causing something terrible she couldn't resolve. What then? She was going to rule a kingdom one day. If she couldn't govern her own abilities, how could she govern…

Jack snapped his fingers, the kiik of it dragging her from her thoughts. "I got it. You're just focusing on the bad stuff. You're scared you won't be able to fix things and it's makin' you scared. Focus on something good."

Elsa blinked. How did he know her so well? When had she opened that door? "Something good?"

"Yeah, something that makes you happy." Jack made a face at her. "You remember happy, right?"

Elsa smirked at him and glanced back at the wall. Think of something that makes you happy. Something good. But what?

The answer was easy.

Anna. Her sister's giggle, the way she slid down the hallway and still squealed when she saw snow outside. Her affinity for cocoa, the way she could do almost any impression, the grass stains on her dress, the ribbon she'd given Elsa last year, the way she styled her horse's mane, the way she liked to situate her braids so that people could plainly see the white streak in her…

Elsa winced. The white streak in Anna's hair. She'd put it there. She couldn't get it together and she'd hurt her sister. And now Anna's laugh was muffled from behind a door and she'd slide right by that door every day and she'd stopped knocking. She drank her cocoa with her back against that door when it snowed, leaving a fresh mug right beside her in case Elsa wanted to come out, and later the elder sister would pick it up after everyone had gone to bed and see the stain the younger had accidentally left on the carpet with her own cup. But no Anna.

The ice on the wall spread, and Jack looked from Elsa to her work and back again. "Something good," he reminded her quietly.

Thinking of Anna wasn't working. Something that makes me happy. Anna made her happy. She used to make her happy all the time. Now she was a reminder. A reminder of Elsa's failure to keep her safe, to be her big sister and her friend, someone she could count on to protect her. She'd let her down. Focusing on Anna didn't make her happy. It made her sad. It made her scared.

Something else. Did anything make her happy anymore? Mama looked at her with wariness in her eyes, Papa's voice was always layered with patronization, the servants were awkward and helpless. The snow days were resented, the summer was on the other side of a window, the years were lonely and her bedroom was too big and familiar and empty.

No. Wait. Not always empty.

Elsa glanced at Jack, now leaning against the bedpost, observing the wall with anticipation, like he believed wholeheartedly that any minute now she'd do what she so deeply feared she'd never do. His fingers drummed on the wood and little white patterns etched across it, quickly, eagerly as if they were just as restless as he was.

His mouth was loose as if he were waiting to smile, and she needed to see him do it. That adorable smile. Carefree and sweet and mischievous and everything she wanted to be but never could. Yesterday she'd told him he smelled like pine trees and he'd laughed. She got warm in her fingertips when he laughed. It was loud and joyful and sounded like wind through the mountains. They hugged often, possibly because Jack was still getting used to the sensation or because Elsa needed them. He was always, always there. If she was still, he'd play a game. If she was closed, he'd make her giggle. If she was quiet, he'd nudge her in that ticklish spot. He knew she needed him. He needed her. But it was better than that; he wanted her. He wanted to be around her and to talk with her and to just sit when she felt like being silent. He wanted to rest an elbow on her shoulder teasingly without being afraid of getting frozen. He wanted those gloves off her hands so he could pull her around the room in an ice skating competition without feeling her suffocation in their blue-green fabric.

When she looked at her friend, white around the edges and warm in the eyes, something in her heart turned over. She felt something snug she didn't recognize and was frightened to name. Color came to her face and she focused on Jack Frost. He made her happy.

She took a deep breath, and the ice on the wall disappeared.

Jack grinned the grin she'd been longing to see. Her heart did another flip. "There you go, Princess!"

Elsa gave him a little curtsy, beaming. "I did it."

"Knew you could." Jack leaned his head on the crook of his staff, watching her. "What'd you think of?"

Elsa's mouth opened, and she found she was nervous to tell him. Why was she nervous? It had always been so easy to talk to Jack. "I….I-I thought of you, actually."

Jack's head came off his staff and he didn't blink, eyes widening a little bit as if he were surprised. She'd thought of him? She was watching him with those round blue eyes and long lashes, waiting for a response. She'd focused on him. What part of him? He fought the urge to feel through his hair for twigs. He'd been romping in the fjords earlier. She was still watching. He didn't notice the thin layer of frost covering the floor around his feet.

"Me?" he repeated.

Elsa shrugged one shoulder, hands clasped together in front of her. She smiled, and his mouth stopped working. Why had it stopped working? He was never lost for words. Elsa's smile grew. What was he going to say again?

"How come?" Jack managed, grinning a tad more.

Elsa was about to respond, but whatever she might have said was never spoken, because at that moment her father knocked on the door.

"Elsa?" he called. "Your mother and I would like to speak with you."

Elsa glanced at Jack, then at the door. She rushed to her vanity and hastily tugged the gloves onto her hands. Jack eyed them distastefully, and she tried to ignore the tightness in her chest that made her feel.

"C-Come in!" Elsa stammered, sitting on the bed.

The King and Queen of Arendelle glided into the room, closing the door firmly behind them.

"We have some important news," Papa began.

Elsa straightened her upper body, folding her hands as she rose again.

The Queen glanced at her husband. "There is a wedding to be held in one of the neighboring lands."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Official business? I'll catch you later, Elsa." Maybe he'd see what Anna was up to. He flew from the open window; he had no interest in matters of state.

Elsa didn't mind. The way that conversation had been going—before her parents interrupted—Jack would be a distraction when she was supposed to be having a serious discussion. Where had that conversation been going? And why had she been able to decrease the ice when she had?

"Your mother and I have been asked to attend, and we need you and Anna to stand regent while we are away." Papa searched his daughter's gaze for a reaction.

Elsa felt the storm swell inside her at the mere thought of standing regent. "But…but what if I—"

"You've shown much improvement," Mama assured her. "We're very proud of you."

Elsa believed her. The love in their expressions overpowered the anxiety. They were concerned for her, but they believed in her. They didn't want her to worry while they were gone.

"How long will you be away?" Elsa demanded.

"It's a week's sail from Arendelle to our destination," Papa replied, in that tone he used when he was trying to teach her something. "The route we'll take is the quickest, but it all depends on the mood of the sea."

"And when we arrive," Mama added, "we'll stay for two weeks. Even though the celebrations last three…"

"…we want to be home to you girls as soon as possible," Papa finished. "So a little over a fortnight."

"I trust you to continue your studies and to be fair to your sister while we're gone," Mama reminded her.

A strand of the Queen's brown locks was coming out of its complicated braid, and the King absent-mindedly tucked it back in for her as she spoke. Elsa wondered if she would ever have a relationship like that. Feathery white hair and warm blue eyes flashed before her mind, but she decided to come back to that thought later.

"And I trust you to keep up the good work," Papa put in with a kind smile, "and keep your powers under control. You're learning, Elsa. We've seen it. You can do this."

That only put more pressure on Elsa. Fear buzzed in her mind. She was going to stand regent. Why did she have to be eldest? Why did she have this curse? She couldn't oversee the kingdom without her parents' guidance! She'd hardly had any practice whatsoever. It wasn't like learning to hone her abilities with Jack at her side. It was harder, it affected more people, it was a huge weight. She didn't know if she could handle it.

"Can't Anna take my place?" Elsa couldn't believe she'd asked, but she had to.

Her mother and father exchanged a glance. "She isn't ready, sweetheart," Mama explained. "You're the heir, and it is your responsibility."

"We leave tomorrow morning," Papa went to the door, Mama following him. He would have put a hand on her shoulder; she would've kissed Elsa's forehead. But they'd both learned by now that Elsa preferred they not touch her. Her nightmares told her what might happen to them if they did.

Elsa stood there for what seemed like an incredible amount of time, her previous accomplishment shrinking in the bulk of this new terror. What was she going to do? She certainly wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. How could she run a kingdom for three whole weeks? She wasn't yet of age! She wasn't fully trained. She shook in her own skin; how could she be expected to be authority over those who had never had her burden?

Finally, with a wisp of cool air, Jack returned, his staff over his shoulder. "Thought they'd never leave." He noticed her expression and faltered. "Hey—you okay?"

Biting her lip, Elsa told him. "…And now I have to look after Arendelle for three weeks."

Jack practically backflipped when he heard. "No way! That's great news, Princess."

Elsa groaned. "No! It's not! I-I-I can't oversee the whole kingdom, Jack! I can barely find the courage to wake up every morning!"

The sparkle in Jack's eyes went out at that. "Cheer up, Elsa. You got me. You got Anna. And you know what this really means, don't you?"

Elsa looked over at him, confused.

Jack grinned. "You've got the whole castle and no parents telling you to do your homework and practice your dancing for three weeks. We're gonna have a little fun."