(Author's Note: Hi guys! Really adore all your reviews. I'm pacing myself in my own way. The chapters have been short because I put in exactly the amount I wanted in each chapter and after I'd written everything I wanted in it, it happened to be a little small. But certain scenes are supposed to happen in certain chapters, and I don't add things for the sake of more to read. Just not my style with fics. So! Here's one that's hopefully about a thousand words longer and I worked really hard on this one. This is the chapter I'd been planning since the beginning, so I hope it doesn't seem rushed at all. Thanks for reading! If you don't skim any paragraphs, I've found the chapter doesn't seem so short. ;) You guys are the best! Keep on keeping on.)
It had been three days. Jack had been hanging out in the forests of the fjords, shaking branches to scare off unsuspecting couples and freezing over a few ponds for confused children to play on. It was summer, after all.
He was waiting to see how long it took Elsa to cool off. Besides, she did need some space from him. He understood her concern; it must've looked weird, talking to someone only she could see—in public, anyway. But there was no call to take her stress out on him. She must've meant some of what she said. He tapped his staff against the trunk of a tree, frost decorating the rough bark. Jack had absolutely no intention of leaving Elsa forever over one little fight. Yeah, what she'd said hurt. A lot. But she needed him. And he wouldn't give up on her just like that. He needed her, too.
He should've let her apologize. But he'd been so angry. First of all, he wasn't no one, or he shouldn't have been to her. Even if she'd been lying to excuse her behavior in front of those maids, she didn't have to say no one. Hadn't he been her friend, her teacher, her confidant? He was much more than no one. Second of all, fun wasn't all he cared about. He cared about her! Sure, having fun meant something more to him than it probably did to ordinary people, but it wasn't everything to him. If anything was that important, it was Elsa. His only friend. There was no reason to insult him the way she had, stressed or not. She didn't know what it was like, being invisible, no one to understand you. Being alone.
Jack started, snorting at himself. Yes she does. She knows exactly how that feels. Elsa was the loneliest person he knew. And he'd gone and left her to her own devices—for three days. She must be a nervous wreck! He believed she could do a lot on her own, without him, if she'd face her fears, but standing regent was more than she could handle by herself. She'd go crazy!
Jack rocketed off the ground, throwing up pine needles and dead leaves in his wake, snowflakes tickling his bare feet. One fight. She'd be over it by now. She'd forgive him—she'd even be happy to see him. Probably.
He soared over the marketplace, past the bridge, over the gates, into the courtyard. Everything seemed quiet today. The few people he saw were wearing black. Jack's fingertips tingled. What had happened? A cloud of sadness hung over the kingdom. None of the servants were outside the castle walls. Not even Anna and her rambunctious horse.
Jack had seen people wearing black the day he'd come out of the frozen lake. He'd gone down to the nearest village, where everyone had their heads down (all except a few very young children), all dressed in dark colors. The same kind of sadness had been coating the town then. He never figured out what they were grieving for. Especially that one little girl—he'd seen a young brunette weeping in her mother's arms, too upset to speak coherently. The woman seemed just as devastated, rocking her on the porch of their little shack. The girl was wearing ice skates.
He shook the memory off. Here and now was what mattered. He hated remembering that night. It was the night he'd first discovered he was practically nothing. No one could touch him. Today, he was in Arendelle, not Burgess, and Elsa might need his help. Taking a deep breath, putting on his kindest smile, he flew to her window.
He knew something was wrong the moment he looked in. The glass was foggy. He gently pushed it open, not wanting to startle his friend. Snowflakes hung in the air, still, not drifting to the ground to settle. Ice covered the entire room, all of it jutting from where Elsa sat hunched against the door. She tucked her head onto her arms, which were folded over drawn up knees. Her shoulders shook with sobs. She pulled her feet further in, but the ice only grew.
Jack stood in the middle of the chamber, watching her. He didn't want to speak just yet. Something terrible had happened. Something worse than another nightmare or an incident with her powers. Something personal was going on with Elsa, and he could tell she was fragile. If he touched her, she might shatter. If he spoke, she might dim. He needed to be quiet for a little.
A knock came at the door. "Elsa?"
Jack winced. It was Anna. Her voice was deadly serious, broken. Devoid of any bounciness she had left.
"Please, I know you're in there."
Elsa leaned her head back against the door, eyes closed. She hadn't seen Jack yet. Tears streaked her face, but her makeup was perfect as ever.
"People are asking where you've been."
Jack set his staff against the wall, silently. He took a few cautious steps toward Elsa, but stopped when Anna continued. Fresh tears fell from Elsa's still-closed eyes. She bit her lip, and Jack knew she did that when she was trying to hold it all in.
"They say 'have courage'. And I'm trying to." Anna sniffed, and Jack could hear her fighting the lump in her throat. "I'm right out here for you. Just let me in."
There was a shuffling, as if she had slumped against the door. Jack saw a slight shadow against the crack between the floor and the wood. He hardly dared to breathe. What happened? Elsa hadn't moved.
"We only have each other. It's just you and me."
Jack felt something in his heart sink. Just you and me. Oh no.
Anna sounded limper than she ever had before. There was more emptiness in her tone. There was gray practically seeping from under the door, mixing with Elsa's. Why hadn't he been here? He should have stayed. This couldn't be happening. Not to them. Not after everything else. It wasn't fair.
"What are we gonna do?" Anna's voice caught, and Jack felt like crying with them. But he didn't. All he could do was stare.
Then the question came, and Elsa exhaled, tendrils of her broken heart flowing out in one breath as she heard it.
"Do you…wanna build a…snowman?"
Elsa squeezed her eyes tighter shut. She stood, not bothering to dry her eyes. For a shining moment, Jack thought she would open the door and engulf Anna in a long-overdue embrace. It would make everything whole again.
But she didn't. Instead she started to stagger toward her bed, slow, as if she'd lost strength.
Jack finally dared to speak. "Elsa…"
She came toward him, eyes open, still crying.
"It's okay." Jack stretched out his arms as she drew near, ready to hug her as he always had. The warmth in his eyes grew until he almost felt it himself, love for this solitary girl, so consumed by fear, overtaking him. She'd always needed him, yes, but now more than ever, and there was nowhere else he wanted to be.
Stumbling, Elsa let out another sob…
And she walked right through him.
Jack Frost had never felt this cold in all his life. The world spun around him. His body morphed back into colored solidity, no longer blue and wispy as she tore past it to collapse onto her bed, wailing her parents' names. His head grew numb. His heart seemed to stop. No. He turned to gawk at his beloved Princess, a pile of grief on the perfectly-made bedclothes, completely oblivious that he was there to comfort her.
She can't see me.
He hadn't ever truly been invisible until this moment. Jack's shawl billowed around him as freezing wind picked up beneath his feet, not lifting him, reacting to his sputtering train of thought. His silence lurched backward as he shot forward, eyes on Elsa, standing on the other side of the bed, calling out to her in panic.
"Elsa! Hey! I'm…I'm right here! Right here. Can't you see me? Open your eyes! Princess—hey!"
Elsa didn't move. She had lost faith in him? He'd only been gone three days!
"Please." Jack's voice broke. "Please see me."
She didn't.
Jack felt his center crack, without knowing that was what it was. He moved back, away from Elsa, as if doing so could rewind the past few days and make everything right again. She can't see me. He couldn't move anymore; his back hit the east wall of the room, still opposite Elsa. He didn't take his eyes off her, the way her own back heaved and settled with grief. Her fingers curled into fists and she sniffled, inhaling. He could practically taste the fear welling up inside her. What would she do now? She'd be queen.
Of course she had lost faith. Three days was all it took when tragedy struck in his absence. He'd said things he didn't mean, set her against him when she was already feeling so much pressure. Had she ever really fully believed he was there? Had she been questioning it? She must have. Jack leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes.
He hadn't been there when things really, really fell apart. For either of them. And now he never could be again.
Years passed. Jack remained the same, and Elsa grew into a woman—just about. She came of age when she was 21, and the kingdom began to prepare to become a queendom.
Jack couldn't stay away. She never saw him again. But he couldn't leave. He had to keep trying. He had to stay with her. Life had become so weighty now; he'd never be able to live with himself again for those three days he'd been gone, and he wouldn't be able to live at all if he abandoned her twice.
Sometimes she would talk to him—as if he were there, but she still passed through him. Every time she did, he lost his cheer; he lost part of his desire to have fun. Who would he have it with now, anyway? She still stayed in her room in the last days before the coronation ceremony. She kept the gloves on almost indefinitely. She barely spoke, and it made her voice hoarse when she did. She hadn't anyone to talk to anyway, not that she knew of.
Anna had given up on even stopping at the door. She busied herself making her own dress for the coronation, green and velvet and lovely. It was one talent no one would have expected of her—sewing. She was required to learn it, and when she had been a child Jack had sometimes stayed up late with the little redhead, watching her yell nasty things at the spinning wheel whenever she made a mistake. All the frustration had payed off. She was an expert now. And the dress wasn't the only thing she'd been doing. She visited the King and Queen's gravestones whenever she could, and rarely, in weak moments, Jack went with her. Mostly though, he watched her ride out for the graves from Elsa's window, loathe to leave his friend's immediate vicinity in case she'd decided to believe in him again. You never know. It could happen.
Today they were opening the gates for the first time in forever. Jack resided in the courtyard during the long nights, replaying what had seemed like a harmless mistake over and over in his mind. Why had he ever left, that day on the balcony? Why hadn't he stayed and hashed it out with Elsa? She might still see him. He would never, ever, ever forgive himself. His temper had cost him his only friend in the world.
When the sun rose, Jack made his way to Elsa's chambers, following his usual schedule. She wasn't there. After further inspection of the castle—every window was being opened, every door unlocked, and Anna was rushing around in ecstasy—he found her in the drawing room. She was putting up her hair, but her gloves were on.
"Today's the big day," Jack announced, voice forcefully optimistic.
Elsa didn't turn around. Her hands flitted nervously around the braided updo, making sure to weave in Anna's ribbon in just the right way.
"Nothing?" Jack sat on the chess table, one leg swinging hyperactively, trying not to listen to the broken beat of his heart. He sighed.
Elsa looked herself over in the mirror. She looked down, eyes half closed. "I don't know if I can do this," she murmured to herself.
"Hey, you'll be fine," Jack assured her, slipping off the table to land behind her. "You gotta relax. You look great."
Elsa turned, brushed through his body, and faced the painting of her father's coronation on the wall opposite her. He looked so regal, so calm and dignified. It was obvious she wished she could feel the same way. Jack wondered why it mattered so much to her to control her powers, keep 'em hidden. Her parents were gone, weren't they? She could reveal herself now, as the rightful Queen, and the townspeople could just…get over it. She was good and kind and amazing. It wasn't as if they had anything to be afraid of. But it was clear Elsa carried that fear for them.
Jack tightened the lace on his shawl and went to her side, choosing not to stand behind her this time. He hated the hollowness that laughed at him when she passed into and out of his form. When she wafted by, he saw pictures of the years they'd had together cruelly flash into his view. Ice skating the night they met, snowball fights at 12, sick days at 14, Anna's birthday, dancing in her chambers. Everything hurt and Jack wanted to kick something.
Elsa turned and walked gingerly to the window, gazing down at the people streaming excitedly into the courtyard. "Don't let them in…don't let them see."
Jack leaned against the wall, watching her with growing sympathy. He wished she could hear him. He'd say something funny—probably something about that guy in the kilt down there, with the bushy brown hair and the big round nose. She'd laugh away her worries, at least for a moment. He'd been longing to hear that laugh, directed at him, for three aching years.
"Be the good girl you always have to be." Elsa took a deep breath, going back to the painting and picking up the candlestick and perfume box, looking at the objects her father held in the picture. They were supposed to symbolize something important and boring, but Jack didn't know what. He wasn't up to date on Norwegian customs. All he cared about was the frown on his Princess' face.
"Conceal…" Elsa exhaled, turning as if rehearsing what she would do in front of the crowd, holding the candlestick in one hand and the box in the other, both shaking slightly. "Don't feel. Put on a show." She sucked in again, and Jack watched frost climb over the objects. "Make one wrong move and everyone will know!" She set them back down, pulling on her gloves.
Jack tilted is head at the box and the candlestick, crossing the room to grab his staff. He pointed it at both, pulling the evidence of Elsa's abilities from the surfaces and cleaning the objects of her magic. It was the least he could do.
"But it's only for today," Elsa reminded herself. She went to the doors, making sure her gloves were on tight. "It's agony to wait…" She closed her eyes for a moment, lost in thought. Finally, she opened the doors. Rows of servants awaited her instruction, folded and poised and too expectant.
"Tell the guards to open up…" Elsa's voice nearly failed her. Then she said it, and Jack saw ice start to cover the handles of the doors where she held them, unseen by the servants, who faced each other instead. "…the gates!"
The servants curtsied or bowed as she glided down the hall past them, Jack following dutifully. He heard Anna's laughter outside an open window as she mingled with the townsfolk, and he couldn't hold back a small smile at the realization that she was finally getting what she'd longed for. Good for her. Now if only Elsa could find some sort of solace in the evening's events, he might actually sleep through a whole night.
"Whoops." Jack turned and quickly directed his staff to the drawing room doors, the ice on the handles melting away slowly.
Elsa went to the balcony, and Jack remembered their fight with the same old pang. Out of spite, he froze the railing. He couldn't stand the sight of the place. But Elsa looked down on her people, hardly noticing the cold beneath her hands as she gripped the stone rail, and continued to mumble instructions to herself. "Shoulders back. Conceal, don't feel. Smile. Wave. Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know…"
Her smile was plastic and her wave wasn't full. She had perfect posture, though, he could give her that. Her eyes were dull as they swept over the kingdom. Many of the townsfolk cheered and waved back up at her, marveling at her beauty, kind and delighted to see her and calling her name. Jack could see in the way her cheeks reached her eyes that she didn't think she deserved them.
"Looks like you got a couple fans, Princess," Jack told her teasingly. He wanted to shoot a firework display from his staff above her head, add a little pizazz to the greeting, but he knew she would only think it was her own doing, and she'd retreat in horror. Everything he'd done for the past three years to get her attention, Elsa resolutely blamed herself, adding to Jack's frustration carelessly.
Finally, Elsa turned to go back inside. The ceremony was about to start.