He waited.
A snowflake twirled around Jack's fingertips before being carried away by the wind. He let out a sigh. The night seemed to crawl by. Of all his days journeying the world, there was never a time as slow as this. He had counted the stars—about 1,246 of them—before he had lost track of which he had already counted. He had already gone to town and spread his winter's touch.
He sat on the railing of a balcony, his feet dangling off the side. He watched the horizon over the ocean—dark, distant, and mysterious. As the seconds ticked by, a golden orb broke the horizon, lighting the sky ahead. It hasn't lost its mystique over the years. How many sunrises has he seen? He couldn't remember the first one he saw. The first sunrise was lost to the flow of time, buried in his memory by the countless other sunrises that measured his life.
"Only half a day more to go..." he said.
He stood on the railing and jumped off, the wind catching him in his fall. He circled around the castle until he came upon a window that sat ajar. It swung open as Jack slipped inside. A maid shut the window closed, grumbling about a chilling wind as she did so.
Armored statues rattled as Jack passed by and fiddled with their limbs. A metallic clang rang in the hallway when one of the statues' arms fell off, a whistling Jack Frost leaving the area. He raced down the hall, exploring the castle. Ahead of him was a set of stairs that spiraled down. With a grin on his face, he jumped onto the smooth stair railings and slid down in his speedy descent. When he reached the end, he was launched across the room over the heads of unsuspecting maids and servants. He caught himself with the crook of his staff on a hanging chandelier.
"Wow, that was some ride!" he exclaimed as he dangled. The chandelier swayed to-and-fro ever so slightly, unnoticed by everyone.
He dropped to the ground unharmed. A delicious smell filled his nose—breakfast.
"Oh ho, let's see what they've got cooking." With his bare feet, Jack skated to an open door as if he was on ice.
On that day, the head chef and all the other cooks complained of a terrible draft and of a few missing pastries.
Jack flew out of the kitchen as he finished off a brioche he had taken for "taste-testing".
"Keep up the good work," he called to the chefs.
He stumbled into a room full of walls were covered with portraits of people singing, dancing, and doing the mundane. Most of them showed a man and a woman together, acting in a romantic gesture.
"Huh, someone likes paintings..."
He went from painting to painting, scrutinizing closely at each one and giving a grandiose impression of every man in the picture. Of course, that grew tiresome quickly, leaving him to wander the castle alone.
"Well, that was fun… What time is it?"
After going through many rooms and down many corridors, he found a grandfather clock. The pendulum ticked the seconds away. Its face revealed it wasn't even close to noon. He let out a frustrated groan.
"At this rate, I'm going to die of boredom!"
Waiting—it was a slow, arduous process, involving the degradation of one's mind into a mesh of boredom. Decades he has lived through, and not even decades could measure the time he waited. A second of waiting stretched to an hour in his mind. A few minutes felt like days. An hour was an eternity. It didn't help that there was nobody he could really talk to.
He dragged his feet on the ground, using his staff as a walking stick, as if he trekked through harsh, unforgiving lands. At last, he found the oasis to his desert of boredom. A set of doors stood in front of him, the one leading to Elsa's room. An impish smile crept onto his face.
"I'm sure she won't mind."
Looking around to make sure no one was present, he grasped the door handle and turned it. The door swung on its hinges. Jack closed it behind him. He glanced around the room, looking for anything of interest. A large bookshelf stood at the side of her room. His eyes skimmed over the titles. From top to bottom, the books ranged from novels to children's storybooks.
"Let's see... Nope, not that one. Nope, too boring." He went down the line of the rows of book. His eyes scanned the lower shelves. "No... Wait, this one looks interesting."
He took one of the children's books, flipping the pages in his hands. He chuckled at the pictures of giants and dwarves and trolls and dragons. The book housed a collection of fairy tales of damsels in distress, knights in shining armor, and much more.
He stopped at one of the pages.
There was a short story that took up less than a page. A portrait of a boy was drawn above it. He had a pointy nose and ears, blue eyes, snow white hair, and pale skin and dressed in the most ridiculous outfit he had ever seen. He looked more like an elf or a sprite. Under the creature's picture was his name: Jack Frost.
His brows furrowed as his lips contorted into a frown. "This doesn't look anything like me! Oh, they've got the nose all wrong! And those ears..." He muttered something under his breath.
"Obviously, someone has never met me," he said.
He shoved the book back in its place, not bothering to fix it as it stuck out among the rest of the books. His meeting with Elsa wouldn't be for a while, so he set his staff against the wall and drifted over the bed in the room. He settled himself on the mattress and stared at the ceiling and waited.
Agonizing hours passed. His staff spun and twirled in his hand like a baton before coming to a sudden stop. He let out a sigh and rolled on stomach, his face buried in the soft pillows. An unfamiliar scent reached his nose. It had a kind of flowery smell to it, though it was hard to describe. It was nice.
Looking out the window, he saw it had grown dark outside. He leapt from the bed and unlatched the window. It opened with a burst of air, and he jumped off the ledge. He glided in the night air. With every passing moment, the excitement in him grew. He trembled at the the thought of meeting her again. His feet touched the snow when he came to a stop in the courtyard. The snowman he had made of himself stood where he had left it.
He smiled. "Looking good there," he said to the snowman.
Jack leaned an arm on the snowman's shoulder and scanned the area for the light blonde-haired woman. There was no one around, except for him and his snow sculpture.
"Huh, I guess I got here sooner than I thought."
He took to the air again and began tapping his staff against the walls, trees, and windows. He painted the walls with his flowers of ice. Icicles hung from the trees. Those branches that once held a canopy of green now bore white, icy leaves. The frost-covered windows were canvases filled with stars, as if he pulled them from the heavens and placed them on the glass panes. Jack dragged his staff against the snow as he flew, leaving the snow smooth and spotless. When he was done, the courtyard was a winter wonderland of his own fantasy.
"Perfect," he said. "Hope she likes what I've done with the place."
He looked around again for Elsa. The courtyard was still empty. Crossing his legs, he sat by the snowman.
"She must be running late. I guess today must have been busy. She's probably finishing up by now."
He waited. Though, he was never truly alone. He had the stars to keep him company every night, and he had the Man in the Moon watching over him as he has always done for many years. Not to mention he had a devilishly handsome snowman to wait with him. They were all very good listeners.
Jack fidgeted in his spot. "She's probably doing those things women do. What was it? Powder their nose? Any minute now, she'll show up. Any minute now..."
One by one, the lights of the castle windows died out until the entire castle was dark. Still in his little spot by the snowman, Jack sat, like a dog waiting for its owner. He stood up and began pacing back and forth, the snow crunching under his feet.
"She probably got lost. Yeah, that's it! No, that's stupid. Why would a queen get lost in her own castle? She probably went to wash her hair. She probably..."
The smile on his face faltered before fading completely, his eyes cast down.
"Forgot..."
He gave a heavy sigh.
"Hello?" asked a voice.
He spun around and came face-to-face with Elsa.
"Hello?" she called again, walking through Jack and toward the snowman. She waved her hand in front of the snowman's face. "Um, are you awake?"
Jack held a hand over his mouth, stifling his laughter. Elsa had her face close to the snowman's as if she could find out if it was awake. Not wanting to keep her waiting any longer, he moved the snowman. It tilted its head, catching her by surprise, and then took her hand, giving it a good shake.
"Oh! It's nice to see you too," she said as she watched the snowperson continue its hardy handshake. She looked around the courtyard. "Wow… Did… Did you do this?"
"Yep," Jack replied as he nodded the snowman's head. "Like it?"
"It's beautiful," she said, her eyes trailing over the walls, the trees, and the windows. "So, what do you want to—"
Her question was cut short by a snowball to the face. Snow-Jack was tossing a round snowball in his hand.
"So, about that rematch..." he said.
She wiped the snow from her face and looked at the snowman in front of Jack with a determined look in her eyes. "Oh, it is on!"
He watched nervously as an oversized snowball appeared in her hands. "Uh oh."
He started running, his snow partner following after him, as the Queen of Arendelle chased them with a gigantic ball of snow raised above her, their laughter filling the courtyard. He pelted her snowball after snowball. She flung her monstrosity of snow at his snow puppet, nailing it in the arm. It fell flat on its face.
"Oh my gosh! Are you all right?" she asked.
From the shoulder down, the snowman was missing an arm.
"Yeah, just let me pull myself together," Jack said, grinning.
The snowman propped its armless shoulder on the ground and wiggled it around as if it was digging around for something in the snow. When it pulled its shoulder back up, there was an arm attached to the end of it.
Elsa watched with a surprised look on her face. "Well, I would have given you a hand... but it looks like you already got one." She smiled.
He chuckled. "A queen with sense of humor, too!" he remarked.
The snowman hopped onto its feet and began piling snow.
"What are you making?" she asked.
Jack stood next to Elsa as he watched the snowman do its work. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough."
When the snow was piled to the point where it stood twice as tall as Elsa, Jack walked up to the towering creation and tapped it with his staff. What was once a pile of snow was now a fortified snow fort.
Elsa walked around the building, giving it a look over. "Impressive. But let me show you mine."
She stretched out a hand and raised it. Jagged pillars of ice spired upward. Jack stepped back, narrowly avoiding one of the spikes. His eyes trailed up as the ice formation grew. A flurry of snow shot out of her hands, sculpting the ice as she walked into the ice. The jagged edges were smoothed out. Stairs formed in front of the entrance. Windows were carved out from the walls. Arches and fly buttresses connected spires. When she finished, she was suddenly standing at the top of a tower.
"What do you think?"
He stared at her with his jaw agape. "Wow..." He flew around the ice fort that dwarfed his own and peered into the windows. "You even have stairs and… Is that a chandelier?"
She left her fort and ran up to the snowman, panting. "Nice, isn't it?" she said, looking back at her creation. "Though, my ice castle looks much better than this."
Jack quirked a brow. "You have another castle?"
She fixed her hair, brushing a lock of hair aside. "So what do you want to do now?"
The snowman held her hand and brought her to an open space where the snow remained untouched. Jack's staff tapped the ground twice, causing a small patch of ice to spread outward. They now had ice to skate on. The snow puppet began pulling her onto the ice.
"You want me to skate?"
It nodded. It took both her hands in its own and pulled her as it slid backwards. The pair slid across the ice, circling along the edge of the ice patch, never letting go hands, like a dance of winter. All the while Jack watched with a smile on his face as he leaned on his staff. She moved with grace, never stumbling as she skated, even without skates, as if she had done it many times before. His eyes never left her.
He sighed. "I would give anything for her to see me."
The skating pair began to make their way off the ice patch. As they left the ice, Elsa stumbled, Jack's snowman catching her in its arms.
She looked into the faceless expression of the young man made of snow. "Thank you."
Jack bowed. "You're welcome, Your Highness."
She didn't break away. "I'm sorry I was late."
"Oh, it's no big deal," he said, but she continued.
"It must have been lonely, wasn't it?"
Jack stood beside her silent.
"I'm sorry for making you wait," she apologized. "I can't remember the last time I had this much fun since I became Queen. Then again, I missed a lot of that growing up." She had a sad look in her eyes. "I guess that's what happens when you lock yourself in your room—all alone and scared."
He stood by her side, watching her. His hand reached to touch her shoulder, only to pass through her. Her expression remained unchanged. He pulled his hand back.
"Everybody gets scared or lonely at some point. Not everyone has a friend," he said, "least of all me."
She stepped away from the snowman, her back turned to him, and took a deep breath. When she turned around, there was a sliver of a smile on her face. "Again, thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this."
Jack smiled. "You're welcome. It's what I do."
A yawn escaped her lips. "Oh my, it's getting late. But before I go, there's something I want to give you." With her hands on the snowman's shoulders, she kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight," she said as she parted.
Abandoning the snowman, he escorted her to the door, floating by her side. Upon closer look, Jack could see the rosy cheeks on her face, whether it was from the cold or perhaps something else. He moved in front of her, studying the features of her face, consigning her to memory as if she would one day disappear and he would forget.
And without thought or reason, he kissed her—a quick peck on the nose—before pulling back.
She wrinkled her nose and touched the cold spot where he had kissed her. A fierce wind blew by, and she stood alone. Jack watched from afar on a tree branch at the woman whose childish face remained untouched behind her queenly facade. Something stirred in his chest. Not even he knew what lay hidden, unseen by the eye, for no one knew the stuff that made the hearts of men.
And so he left, confused and troubled, as he was left to ponder whether his heart was ice or perhaps some other kind of snow.