Approximately one year later, I came back to visit Elsa.
At first, I despaired because I thought she had gone away, but after thoroughly searching the castle, I finally found her in a different bedroom.
She must have reached that age when it is considered improper to share a room with a younger sibling.
The room was orderly and I couldn't help but ponder over how troublesome it must be to live in a castle where you must keep all your belongings tidy.
If I had a room, mine would have been a disaster.
I probably would have been kicked out of this particular castle.
I must've had a room once, but I can't remember.
Elsa sat on her bed. It had an elegant canopy draping over the top, concealing the top half with her pillow from view.
Because she was sitting on the end, with her legs swinging off the side, I could see her entirely.
The first thing I noticed about her was that she seemed unhappy.
Her arms were wrapped around herself and her face was set in a forlorn expression.
This was not at all like the first time I had seen her.
"Elsa." My whisper penetrated through the window.
Her head jerked up. She leapt off her bed and came racing toward the window. Her eyes lit up wonderfully when they captured my presence.
"Jack!" She pressed the palms of her hands against the window pane. I reached up and placed my own onto the opposite side of the glass from hers. I would have liked to compare our skin tones, but she had on a pair of white gloves. However, I could see that my hands were much larger in size.
She had grown much in the year that had passed, but she was still a little girl.
Her hair was pulled back into a single braid down her back. She had a black headband, which worked together with her blue uniform to give her that school-girl appearance.
"Help me open the window." She commanded as she started tugging on the frame to get it opened. With my help, the frame came up easily. It came up as far as it was intended to, allowing me to enter without as much hassle as last time.
I suppose, the window in the other room must have been jammed.
I came through the window and stood before Elsa once again in her bedroom.
"Are we going to play like we did last time?" I inquired.
I was surprised when she didn't jump at the idea. On the contrary, she seemed unnerved by it.
"I don't think we should today."
"Why not?" I urged. "You seem unsettled. What happened while I was away?"
Elsa distanced herself from me, walking back to sit on the edge of her bed.
I followed and sat beside her.
She stared into the depths of her glove-covered hands. She remained silent for several moments before speaking again. When at last she spoke, she said in a very small voice, "I hurt my sister."
I remained quiet, silently willing her to go on.
She did. "We were just playing... like you and I did. But I struck her with my powers."
Tears started falling steadily down her cheeks. Her little shoulders shook and her lip turned down.
"I didn't mean to." She cried.
"Of course you didn't." I responded, shattering the sadness.
A knock resounded from the opposite side of Elsa's bedroom door. A sing-song voice rang out, "Elsa, do you want to build a snowman?"
I knew it was Elsa's sister.
She sounded as alive as ever and I knew that Elsa was being too hard on herself.
"Come on," I started to get up from the bed, but Elsa remained frigidly still. "We can all go build a snowman together."
"No!" Elsa snapped. Turning her head toward the door, she yelled, "Go away, Anna!"
"You can't just shut yourself in here, Elsa." I reasoned.
She looked up at me. Her eyes had a firmness in them. This made her look much more grown up. "I can if it keeps them safe."
"But look," I reached up and pulled a snowball out of nothingness. "You can't hurt me. I'm already frozen."
She was taken aback. Her eyes studied me intently, curious by the concept that I was just as she was.
"We'll play." She agreed, at last. "But I don't want to use my powers."
I understood why.
If I had hurt someone dear to my heart, I probably would have felt bitterness toward the snow lurking within me as she seemed to feel bitterness toward the snow within her.
I couldn't help but worry for her.
She had fear that was starting to grow in her heart.
Fear can be a very powerful thing.
Instead of making a winter wonderland of her room, I decided to respect her desires and not use my powers, either. At least... I wouldn't make it snow, frost, freeze, or sleet.
Setting my staff down atop the soft blanket of her bed, I freed my hands of any obligations to carry it around. I needed my hands to carry something else.
"Do you trust me?" I reached out to Elsa. She seemed hesitant, but at last she took the remaining steps to close the distance between us.
I wrapped my arms securely around her tiny waste. Her head came halfway up to my abdomen.
"Ready?" I asked. Of course, I didn't wait for a response.
We rose up from the ground. Our feet were about five inches from the floor.
Elsa let out a shriek of excitement.
Her eyes shone radiantly as she looked downward to her legs swinging in the air.
Her mouth gaped open in absolute amazement.
It's a beautiful picture I keep safe in the back my mind, never wishing to forget.
We continued to elevate higher and higher until we had risen enough for Elsa to reach up and brush her fingers against the ceiling.
Still holding on to her small figure, I swept us to the right of the room. The wind rushed through our hair. It nagged at Elsa braid, tearing strands loose with it's giddiness.
That's how we spend our moments together for the second time.
I spun Elsa all around her bedroom, allowing her to know what it feels like to let yourself soar.
When the afternoon had slipped away into evening and evening into night, Elsa told me that her parents would be arriving to her room to tuck her in for bedtime.
"I should go." I said, resignedly.
"Will you come back?"
"Of course."
And back through the window I went, disappearing from Elsa's life yet again.