Chapter 6: Freezer Burn
Contrary to the size of the munchkins inhabiting it, Elfsburg was very large, and had an equally as large history to match. From the day Jack had almost had Christmas to himself permanently, all the way back to the moment Christmas magic had started gathering here in dangerous levels (before it was even known as Christmas magic), there was never a dull moment in the colourful history of the North Pole.
Eons ago, the Kringle Elves had made their way to the North Pole to study the magic that had built up where Elfsburg now stood. Hoping to find a way to control it before it overloaded and damaged magic irreparably, they wasted no time in doing just that. You see, they were brilliant creators and inventors in of themselves, finding new and intuitive ways to use and spread magic throughout the world. So, a large ball of magic suddenly appearing and growing at a dangerously fast rate? Right up their alley (or so Jack had been told).
Their studies had led to the discovery of Winter magic as a conductor for the new magic, which had led to the creation of the Dome, and eventually, the pact between Kris Kringle and Saint Nicholas that had created the Santa Clause. Leaving behind their old settlement, they built Elfsburg, the Workshop following soon after.
But the old settlement, though abandoned, still existed.
Centuries of wear and tear had reduced it to ruins, of course. And permafrost and snow had covered it completely now. But if you knew where to look, it made for a lot of nice little inlets.
And Jack did.
He had found many of them throughout his post-thaw year, away from the hustle and bustle of the Workshop, where all was quiet and he could sit and reflect and just think.
His personal favourite lay on the outskirts of the ruins of Old Elfsburg. Here, thick evergreen trees had grown, cut and harvested multiple times while Elfsburg was being built. This hadn't deterred the trees at all, of course. Trees were particularly hardy, especially magical ones. They had grown back; new growths had popped out of the wide stumps, sticking out at odd angles, curving amongst the other growths and managing to create a substantial canopy above the stumps. The largest one had fast become Jack's favourite.
It wasn't anything grand. The inlet in the tree had enough room for Jack to sit and peer out of the branches as the snowflakes dwindled and then all but disappeared. He was able to lay down in it comfortably and watch as the Dome became duller and duller, the colours seeping out. And there was enough room for him to pace back and forth as the headaches started, alerting him to the melting. As his attempts at giving the Dome a fresh layer of permafrost all but failed. As Jack nearly paced a trench in the tree trying to figure out what was happening to him.
At first, when March came around and his powers weren't as strong as they were before, Jack thought that perhaps Mother Nature or Father Time was playing a cruel prank on him. He dismissed that quickly when he recalled the whole "our powers don't work on other legendary figures" thing. Because of that, there was no way Mother Nature or Father Time could take away his powers. And then, when even they began to question why he wasn't doing his duties, Jack had had to rethink.
And this was where he came to do just that. The scent of pine, the cold breeze, the winter silence that even now permeated the air as he made his way to the tree, it was all a familiar comfort that helped him forget about how each and every passing day, his powers grew weaker, all of the hard work he had done all year with the inhabitants of the North Pole at risk. All because he couldn't frost.
An overabundance of emotion would bring him out to this tree. It had seen many a vulnerable moment; it had given him a safe respite to be vulnerable, experience the emotions, before collecting himself and heading back, feeling a bit better than he had upon his arrival.
He should've guessed that this is where she would've gone. He'd have done the same. He had done the same.
As he approached the large evergreen, a dark blue shape came into view between the branches.
Jacqueline.
Relieved, he sped up a bit, stopping at the base of the tree. He opened his mouth; closed it. Looked thoughtful, frowned. It was quiet.
She was quiet.
Why were words so hard?
He shoved his hands in his pockets, mulling over what she had said before she had disappeared.
"I didn't forget about it, you know," Jack finally said, eyes downcast. "I could never just forget. I know it may seem like I did, but it wasn't…it's just…"
There was a rustle above him. He glanced up, quickly.
Jacqueline had appeared by the opening. She rested her arms on one of the branches, head cradled in the crook of her elbows.
"I thought about it...a lot," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "And every time I thought about it, something stopped me. So I'd shove it in the back of my mind and ignore it. I never forgot, though. And when this happened," he said, gesturing to all of him, "I wasn't sure I wanted to look back at all. I thought that maybe, if I left it alone and didn't talk about it, I could forget about it. Which I suppose," he said, tilting his head, "Doesn't help my case much at all, really."
He hazarded a glance upwards again. Jacqueline was frowning, an eyebrow raised.
"Yeah, I know. If I really want to start fresh, I'll have to talk about it instead of just leaving it in the past and pretending it never happened."
Jacqueline still stood there. Her eyebrow had sunk back down. Her jaw was clenched, Jack noted. Her face looked shiny, as well.
"Look, I won't come up if you don't want me to, Jacqueline. I'll just make a seat down here and wait for you to give the okay to—" he waved his hand, thinking of a snowy chair. Nothing happened. "—talk, or—" he waved his hand again, picturing the snow moulding into the shape he wanted. Yet again, nothing. He sighed, and, squatting down, began to push the snow into a small mound by hand.
"They're really gone, huh?"
"Y-yeah. I don't. I don't know if I really wanna talk about it just yet."
Jacqueline frowned, leaning forward a bit. "We're gonna have to talk about it."
"In time. But I think that there are some other things we need to talk about first." Jack said, finally making direct eye contact with Jacqueline.
She was holding back tears, he realized.
Jacqueline turned abruptly, moving deeper into the tree. He waited for a moment before walking right up the tree trunk and into the heart of it. She was sliding slowly down a section of thick branches, a hand covering her mouth. She looked horrified. "I can't believe I did all of that," she said, her voice cracking. "I almost killed you dead!" She blurted out, looking shocked. Covering her mouth again, she slid all the way down the trunk, hugging her knees to her chest and burying herself in her skirts.
"It's okay! It's okay," Jack said, crossing the space between them in four quick strides. His hand hovered above her head for a moment; he pulled it back. Instead, he leaned against the branches and slid down beside her, stretching his legs out. "You were upset. Are upset. And I'm fine. It's going to take a lot more than that to get rid of little old me," he said.
She popped up for a moment, wiping the wet off of her face with a ghost of a smile. She sniffed and leaned back, her head hitting the trunk with a dull thunk. Very quickly, she tucked her hair behind her ears. "It wasn't funny, Jack," she said. "I could've really hurt you. And then—then what would I do?" she admitted, flushing when a little sob followed her sentiments. Embarrassed, she buried herself back into her skirts, body shaking.
She was crying.
Jack patted her shoulder, so very incredibly fast as he pulled his legs up, resting his arms on his knees. "You'd figure it out. And you'd do great! A better job than I could right now, probably," he admitted with a sigh.
"After a loss of control like that?!" she said, head shooting back up, thrusting her arm out violently towards Elfsburg. "That was so embarrassing! This is so embarrassing! UGH!" she said, flopping back into her skirts.
"If it helps, it was equally as embarrassing for me, if not ten times worse! The entire Pole saw me get my butt kicked by my little sister! Me! A Legendary Figure!"
That got a very snotty snort out of the younger sprite, though she still hid her face.
"And you know, if you had killed me dead, there is a LINE UP of people who'd love to have that honour! Imagine if it'd been you? What a claim to fame that would've been," he said with a smirk.
"Jack!" she said, aghast, head popping back up. "Don't joke about it! I almost killed you dead!"
"But you didn't! I'm okay! Well. Mostly," he added with a shrug, gesturing once again to the white. Jacqueline snorted; success, he thought to himself as he adjusted his legs, only one bent now, his wrist sitting atop his knee.
"Did you walk up the tree?" Jacqueline asked, curiosity tickling her face.
"Uh, yeah. What, you think I'd climb? Like some sort of child? Or animal? Please. Where's the style there? The, the glam? The finesse?!"
"So that's still working, then."
Jack blinked. "Right to business, I see," he said, equal parts relieved and disappointed. You blew it Jack, he thought, resting his head against the tree.
"Jack, you absolute blizzard brain. You didn't blow it! I just. You know. You cheered me up a little bit, and I thought I'd return the favour. At least it's not all gone," she said. "It's a bright side! A little bit of positivity in an otherwise sleety situation."
"Positive as that is, I don't think it's the most positive thing about this whole situation," he found himself admitting.
"It's not?"
"Nope," Jack said, shaking his head.
Jacqueline's brow furrowed. "Then what is?"
"This."
Jacqueline's confusion intensified. "This?"
"You know," he said, rolling his wrist and looking like he maybe was about to hurl. "Being here. With you. To me, that's the bright side to all this," he came clean, looking away and clearing his throat. "Look. I know I didn't come home right away post thaw. Even if I had felt confident enough to do so, it would've been a little hard to so early in the year, given the uh. Community service I had to do."
"Right. For mucking up SEVERAL ecosystems with wrong weather and confusing the geese. And also, cardboard standees."
"You know about all that?"
"Who do you think fixed it?"
"This is not helping my case at all," Jack said, stretching the collar on his shirt and clearing his throat.
"It's really not," Jacqueline said. "But! I'm still here. I haven't gone anywhere. That's probably a good thing. Though I will say you are very close to blowing it, Jack."
Was she teasing? Jack chuckled. "I'll choose my next words carefully."
She hummed judgmentally in agreement, while Jack thought.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Those words okay?"
Jacqueline nodded.
"Right. I'm sorry, Jacqueline. For everything. Which is a LOT, I know. I'm sorry for this whole situation," he began, gesturing up at the Dome. "I'm sorry for the quiet all year. I'm sorry about the geese and the snow and the standees, although! They did get my good side," he added, resting his chin between his forefinger and thumb and grinning. He could picture the little sparkle on his teeth that would be there were he a traditional animation.
Jacqueline laughed. "STOP! You are so full of yourself, Jack," she said, a gentle stream of snow hitting him in the face.
"Ah! My mouth was open!" Jack said, coughing dramatically and brushing the snow off of his shoulders. It would've been really fun if he had been able to wave it off and throw it right back at her. You don't know what you got until it's gone, I suppose, Jack thought (minding that he kept it to himself).
"Then maybe you should talk less!"
"I think I would die on the spot, Jacqueline. That would just kill me, then and there."
"That'd disappoint so many people who want the honour of doing it themselves," she joked, resting her back against the tree trunk with a sigh. She had gotten less tense, Jack noted, settling back against the tree as well. She practically mirrored his own pose now, one leg nearly flat, hands hugging her other knee.
"I'd really have the last laugh then, eh?"
"NO! STOP! Do NOT pun at me! You're ruining the apology, Jack!"
Jack laughed. "Alright, alright. I'll cool it with the puns," he said, Jacqueline's low throated grumble the exact reaction he had been holding out for. "I am sorry for all those standees. I'm sure that was no easy feat for you to take care of."
"I had help," she admitted, clearing her throat.
"Oh! Good! Great," Jack said. "I mean, I'm glad you had help but WOW, that's embarrassing for ME now, isn't it?"
Jacqueline laughed. "Nah. Don't worry. The people who took care of that have seen you in far more embarrassing situations, which I know for a fact."
Jack looked thoughtful for a moment. The colour drained from his face when it hit him. "Oh. Blaise and Winter?"
Jacqueline nodded. "Yep," she said popping the P.
"Well now I wish you had killed me dead."
"JACK!" Jacqueline said with a laugh, her arm shooting out and whacking him in the gut. She gasped, yanking it away very fast. "Sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"It's okay," Jack said. "A bit of gentle ribbing isn't going to hurt me. Only my pride, which has been substantially ground into the dirt today. Literally. There's dirt. There's no snow." He sighed. "It's absolutely rotten. And so was how I left the three of you." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I won't make excuses; sure, it was a very emotional night. And yes, maybe I was a bit out of line."
"A bit."
"Just a tad," Jack joked. He cleared his throat. "But regardless, I still left. And not on very good terms. I hurt Blaise; Winter, too. She refroze her heart because of me," Jack said, grimacing. "That's…I could never make up for that," he said with a sigh. "And you!" he said, gesturing towards her and looking at her. She looked startled. "None of that is an excuse for what I did to you. I'm so sorry, Jacqueline. I never wanted to hurt you. And I'm sorry I didn't stick around to make sure you were okay, or anything," he said. "I know that that's a lot to forgive. And I don't expect your forgiveness right away! I wouldn't forgive me if I were in your shoes," he said, leaning back against the tree and looking up. I haven't forgiven me, he thought to himself. "But I hope, at the very least, you can accept my apology."
"Only if you accept mine," she countered.
"Your apology? What on Earth do you have to be sorry for? You were just a kid, Jacqueline!"
"I know! I know," she said forcefully, cutting him off. "I was just a kid. But I'm not now. And that's what I'm apologizing for. Now. What happened back there...I knew I was angry," she said, pulling her legs back up to her chest. "Like really, really angry. How could I not be? With everything that happened, and Frostmas still so fresh on the mind, and the silence all year despite knowing what had happened…I snapped. Big time. I'm sorry for all that," she said with a careless wave, resting her head on her knees.
"You don't need to apologize for that," Jack said. "It happens! It's okay. And it was only a matter of time before you snapped, given everything. And Frostmas?" Jack sucked his teeth. "Yikes. I'm really sorry about that. Do you—is it—you still remember it all?"
Jacqueline stiffened. Neither sprite moved. The wind blew, a healthy chill creeping through the branches. The pine needles rustled.
"I don't think I want to talk about that just yet," Jacqueline finally said, icily. "I may snap all over again."
"Whenever you're ready, I'll be, too," Jack said. "Just, please know. I am sorry about that, too."
Jacqueline nodded. "I'll keep that in mind," she admitted, squeezing her arms around her legs tighter.
Jack sighed. "You're right, of course. About everything. My reasons for leaving are still the same…but all these years later? I don't believe them anymore. I'm not sure I ever did. I think I was too frightened to admit that, ever, at all," Jack said, scoffing. "And then even after thawing I still didn't make contact, or check in, or anything, despite leaving that door WIDE open."
"Yeah, and you're one hell of a draft," Jacqueline said, straightening up. "My GOD. All year, dude! All sorts of random thoughts leaking my way!"
"Which I'm sure made things a lot worse," Jack said.
Jacqueline shrugged. "I mean, yeah. Super annoying to get errant thoughts instead of an actual message or anything, especially when you're really kind of hoping for one to come through," she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear once more. "That's a little silly. Sorry."
"It's not! Not at all," Jack reassured. "I had the same feeling a good portion of the year. I just…what do you say, after all that, you know? Where do you even start?"
"NOT with small talk," Jacqueline joked, cracking a smile.
Jack laughed. "And I have learnt that lesson today! Ah," he said, sighing. He stretched his legs out, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "I did check in on you. After the night I left. Not right away, of course. But…first thing I did when I woke up. Made sure our connection was still there. And it was. And I thought, very briefly, maybe I should go back and check in—and then I remembered everything that had happened and went well, forget that. And it kept happening. The entire fourteen centuries I was gone! I'd have these frequent moments where I'd stop, and think about what had happened and what I had done and what could I do to fix that, and then I remembered that I had yet to say HELLO to the consequences, and, well," he shrugged.
"Oh," Jacqueline said, taken aback.
"Yeah."
"And then this year was…the same?"
"Yeah," Jack admitted. "I know I could've done things differently this year. Then maybe we wouldn't be in this situation!" he said, throwing his hands up in the air briefly. "But the thought of seeing you again, and Blaise and Winter…and two whole other siblings that I've never met! They don't even know about me."
"Okay, so, about that," Jacqueline said, flushing. "They maybe actually do know about you now."
"They do?" Jack said, perking up, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.
"Um. Hmm. Yes. Fino and Fiera are very uh, adventurous kids," she said, pressing her lips together. "They had heard about you, of course! Magic school and all that. And they had questions, but didn't want to ask them. Not until they stumbled on some old photos at home. Needless to say, the moment I stepped into the house after that, they cornered me and I did not hold back."
"Oh dear," Jack said, grimacing.
"I told them all about you. Who you were to them, to me. I told them about how you had left us centuries before, and never returned, and that we didn't think you would. Well, our parents didn't. I had always hoped…but anyway," she said, cutting off her own thought. "I explained Mom and Dad's struggle with the decision to tell them about you or not. That it would open up a lot of hurt that maybe they weren't ready for yet; that they didn't want the babies to have to experience it, either. But would it be wrong of them to do so? They asked Mother Nature about it, and she left it in their hands."
"And they chose not to tell them."
"Exactly."
Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Lady of the Springs," he said. "I have a lot of work to do."
"It is a very big undertaking, yes," Jacqueline said.
"Top of the list," Jack mentioned.
"Huh?"
"I have a list. Of, ah, people I've ah, wronged. Hurt. Whatever. Not a real list, but. I know what I need to make good on. Who to make good with."
"And we're top of the list?"
"You are," Jack admitted. "But Blaise and Winter are up there, too. It's like you said. It's a huge task; that's why I've been avoiding it. But! I have started somewhere. I started small. Here, with Santa. And his family." Jack sat up straighter, turning to face Jacqueline. "I know that I didn't do much in the way of reaching out this year. But I need you to know that I did not forget about anything for a second. I spent the entire year making it up to Santa. I stuck around, helped out around the shop, helped Scott out, too. Not a second of this year wasn't spent feeling remorse, or regret, and doing what I could to make up for it. Here at least. Starting small. I could tell you all about it…but, I think it'd be easier to show you. If you're okay with it. If not I'll sit here and talk your ear off alllllllll day," he said, leaning back, his hand slowly drifting through the air in front of him.
Jacqueline laughed, shifting to face him as well. Sitting on her knees, she looked thoughtful. "I know you could," she said, smoothing out her skirt, hands resting at her knees. "But we don't have all day. Are you sure you'd like to do this?"
Jack nodded. "Positive."
"Alright then," Jacqueline said, steadying herself. She tilted her head forward. "Go for it."
"Are you sure?"
She laughed. "Positive."
"Into the mindscape we go, then!" Jack said grandly, closing his eyes alongside his sister.
And the walls fell down.
It hadn't changed much, their shared mindspace. Opening his eyes, the space was still the same. Large, and wide, with tall, icy walls reaching high, high above them, patterns of ferns and swirls etched in them, glowing low in the dark space. At their ankles, stretching across the floor, was a bank of what looked to be fog. Jack frowned at it, confused; Jacqueline ran her hand through it. It glowed, light blue, snow drifting into the air.
"Frost," she said with a small smile. "Not fog."
"Ah. A little darker than I recall," Jack mentioned.
"I'll say," Jacqueline said. She tapped her foot; the patterns in the walls lit up, glowing brightly before dimming. "Ah! There we go! Let there be light!" she said, gleefully, stomping her foot now.
The glow intensified, and with a sound best described as a glimmer, the space stayed lit.
"Nice," Jack said.
"I try," Jacqueline replied, tossing her hair. "Now, where am I looking?"
"I got it," Jack said, waving his hand.
Around them, the frost curled upwards. The fern pattern in the walls grew brighter. Memories began to take shape, Jack doing his best to show Jacqueline everything he had been up to. The helping hands he offered, the good deeds he did, the wins and the losses (Jacqueline laughing and poking at the memory of the uh, dollhouse incident a little too gleefully), hoping that he could share with her every feeling he had had, that he couldn't quite express in words: the warmth, and love, and remorse, and regret—all of it. His interactions with the Claus family making him think of his own, those long-ago memories twirling in the mists as well. He turned away, getting a little misty eyed himself.
"You can stop, Jack," Jacqueline said, walking through a memory of her tiny self being flung through the air and into a snow pile. "I believe you," she said, stopping beside him and gently patting his arm. "Thank you."
He turned back around, with a small smile. "It's the least I could do for you, Jacqueline," he replied, uncrossing his arms. "I wish there was more I could do. To make up for the, the self-doubt. It wasn't fair for you to be stuck under my shadow!"
"It wasn't. But it wasn't all bad," she said, waving her own hand now.
The frost below her began to take shape once more. The swirls in the walls glowed brightly now, the ferns dimming. Around them, Jack could see Jacqueline's memories taking shape. Tiny her, waiting by the window. Winter cuddling her close and waiting with her. A heavily snoring Blaise falling victim to face art, tiny Jacqueline cackling, Winter whooshing her away with a twirl. The tiny, frosty Jacqueline twirled through the air, landing in a heap of skirts, a bit taller. Her decision to leave home. Their parents supporting her, sending her off with a hug and a wave. Jacqueline standing down an entire battalion of knights, the pride she felt when she managed to fend them off and keep the place she was saying at, for herself and the multitude of other magibeans that were there, palpable as Jack walked right through that memory. He chuckled.
"Bet that left a nasty mark."
"The land remains untouched to this day," Jacqueline said with a grin, whooshing that image away. More took shape, now. The simple garments switching to something more akin to what she wore today. Sword fights and horses. Her years of discovery; friends and loved ones and partners, and three too many close calls at the stake for witchcraft for Jack's liking. The middle ages fast became the renaissance, then regency; all sorts of shenanigans that made Jack proud to call her his Legate. The start of a prolific career in piracy; fighting with what looked to be Amazonian warriors?
"I made do," she said, Jack's waltz through her memories stopping as he nearly crashed into her. "I went out on my own and, y'know, got to know myself a bit. And I did eventually realize that everything you did? The reason you left? The fallout? Wasn't my fault. It took a hot minute!" she said, as the frosty memories shaped themselves into a group of figures with what looked to be hunting rifles, getting their asses handed to them by a slightly younger Jacqueline, a familiar beret-wearing elf alongside her. "But I figured it out. I managed."
The happy, the sad, the bad—Jacqueline did not hold back any of the feelings. "In the end, I was okay," she said, their reunion from her perspective swirling in front of them now. "And so are you," she said, the moment they entered the mindscape taking shape in front of them before turning into snow, drifting away.
"Well, mostly okay," Jack admitted. The ferns lit up once again, blue mist flying out from behind him. The memories he shared were different now. Jacqueline was able to see, memory by memory, Jack's power dwindling to nothing. The questions, the accusations, the fear amongst the denizens of the North Pole the longer it went on.
"Look at the bigger picture, Jack," Jacqueline said smartly, the swirls glowing brighter alongside the ferns now. Light blue mist trailed in, poking at certain parts of the memories the blue mist in front of them formed.
The support from the Council. Mother Nature's kindness during check-ins. Santa finally accepting a drink from Jack, their friendship growing throughout the year. Babysitting baby Buddy; the laughs and intellectual discussions shared with Carol over cider throughout the year. The elves helping him clean up shop after the dollhouse incident, Bernard giving him the smallest nod of approval after fixing something or other on the floor…
"Need I go on?" Jacqueline said, light blue tendrils of frost ready to poke at more memories.
"You make a very convincing point," Jack said, waving away the memories.
"Things will be okay! And while yes, there were some bad feelings," she said, looking down and rubbing her arm. Behind her, images barely came to fruition as she shared those feelings with him. The confusion small Jacqueline had experienced between the aftermath of the Day of Darkness and the Twins being born, the sadness when she was a bit older. And the anger! So much anger. How could someone this small have so much anger? Jack thought, before that anger shifted, turning into fear.
Behind her, he could see the faint outline of himself leaving. The frosty tendrils could barely form it, before it dropped back down into the misty floor. A new form rose behind her. Its back was towards them, but he recognized the silhouette easily enough. The image looked over its shoulder, the icy glare and stiff ponytail confirming his suspicions. Frostmas.
Her anger was driven by fear.
Fear of him. Fear of herself. And, judging by how her icy silhouette loomed over her, there was a lot of it.
"The good feelings end up being way more powerful," Jacqueline said. The icy image behind her looked surprised, briefly, before it exploded into snow as the flurry of good memories she had shown him moments before rushed in. Warmth. Laughter. Joy. Love.
"And now," she said, with a big smile, her hands on her hips. "I have the best one of all to add to that."
"And what might that be?" Jack asked, head tilted.
"I have my big brother back," she said, and, before Jack could so much as blink, she pulled him into a tight hug.
It shocked him, at first. A hug! He hadn't had one since Lucy had left after the holidays last year, he realized.
But this hug was different. It was a hug from his sister, the person he had hurt the most in all of his frozen years. He hugged her back in no time at all, squeezing just as tight as she was. He poured all of his thoughts and feelings and remorse into that hug, everything that he wanted to say but couldn't say. The frost below them twirled, memories forming to match the feelings. It may not have been possible to make up for fourteen hundred years in one hug, but Jack really, truly, tried. The mindscape glowed around them, the white all encompassing until he squeezed his eyes shut.
When he opened them, they were back in the tree, still hugging. They pulled apart, Jacqueline laughing.
"What?"
"You're blending in with the ground," she said with a grin, pointing delicately below her.
While they had been in the mindscape, the snow had really blown in. The ground of the tree was covered in a fresh blanket, nearly obscuring his shoes.
"Ha! Funny. I'd trade the white out for your blue in a heartbeat!"
"Oh please," Jacqueline said with a grin. "You are a twig. You'd need a lot more curves to pull off something like this," she said, gesturing to her dress. "I'd be hilarious if it had a corset. I'd pay to see that!"
Jack laughed. "Glad to know your dress isn't trying to kill you."
"It never did! I know how to lace a corset properly," Jacqueline said, making her way to the entrance of the tree. "Shall we?" she asked gesturing outside.
Jack stepped forward, then stopped, hesitating. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"
Jacqueline's hand dropped. She frowned. "Forgiveness is…a process. A long, hard process. A very complicated one, too. Or at least, it can be. I was so, so angry," she said, voice heavy, hand balling into a fist. "And sad, and hurt, and maybe I am still feeling all of that. But," she continued, looking back at him. "You're back now. You finally reached out. Even if it was Council mandated," she joked. "And I'm actually really happy that you're here! You're really here! In front of me! Thawed and everything," she said, gesturing towards Jack. "It's wild! And now that you're back, I can work towards forgiving you. We can work towards it," she said, offering a hand. "Together."
Her words were impactful; they gave Jack pause. She was so mature now, so grown up—not the tiny sprite he once knew, who delighted in being thrown into snowbanks. Now she was too big for him to coddle; she was practically his size! He had hurt her so badly, and everyone else they both loved in the process.
And even after all that, she was offering her hand to him?
He had done it. Jack had his sister back. Somehow, against all odds, she was here, with him, and willing to start again. And this time, he wouldn't lose her. Not again. Not by his hand, or anyone else's.
"I am so, so sorry my dear, dear sister," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her in for another hug.
"Woah!" she said, laughing a bit before managing to squirm enough to hug him back properly. "And I accept your apology, my dumb, dumb brother." She squeezed tightly, a feeling of warmth lingering on the edge of their connection. "I really really missed you, Jack," she said, hiding in his shoulder. "A lot. I'm happy your back," she said, pulling back.
Jack smiled, warmed right down to his toes. "I've missed you too, little flurry. And I'm happy to be back! Which is something I never thought I'd say," he said, slicing his hand through the air. "EVER. In my LIFE. But I am. I'm happy to be back and all warm and icky and gooey and melted on the inside. Though I could do without the power loss, admittedly."
"Eh, we'll get you right as a snowfall in no time, Jack," Jacqueline said with a careless wave, hopping down out of the tree. "Then you can enjoy the warm fuzzy feelings complete with an entire season at your fingertips! Like me!" she said, watching as Jack walked down the trunk. "You know, you've been frozen for so long, I bet you've just got a little bit of freezer burn going on," Jacqueline said, winking.
"Oh. We are not calling it that."
"Why not? It's perfect! Besides, I thought you liked puns?"
"And I thought you didn't," Jack said, stopping beside her and brushing imaginary dust off of his pants.
"I do not. Dad's always making puns. It's exhausting," she said, back of her hand on her forehead, as though this were the most trying experience of her life (which in Jacqueline's humble opinion, it was).
Jack chuckled. "Classic Blaise. Ah. He must be furious," Jack said, starting down the path towards the trails back to Elfsburg.
"He was," Jacqueline said, falling into step beside her brother, hands behind her back. "And sometimes he still is. But he is old, Jack. And tired. They both are. Honestly, I think his anger's burnt out." She said with a shrug. "We've had a lot of time to process what happened. Three whole other kids to raise in the meantime. That's more than enough time to process and, y'know, accept what happened. I think he misses you. I think they both do."
"I find that very hard to believe. What I did to Blaise! And Winter! She froze her heart, Jacqueline."
"She got better!" Jacqueline said, thrusting her hands up in the air.
"Really?"
Jacqueline nodded. "You're not the only one who's had a recent thaw, Jack."
"Even then, to think, after all that, they'd miss me? I dunno, Jacqueline. They have two whole other kids to mind now, as well!" he paused for a moment, thoughtful. "Why did you tell them?"
"Tell who what?"
"Tell the other two siblings. About me."
"Oh! Well. I. Hmm." She sighed, looking off into the distance. "It didn't feel right to lie to them when they had proper proof in their hands, you know. And I guess…deep down…I really wanted my brother back. And telling the twins all about you was one way I could have that for just a moment."
The snow fell silently, crunching underneath their heels. Both sprites stared, lost in thought. Jack was unsure how to reply to Jacqueline's confession. It made him feel warm inside all over again though, just like when Lucy had hugged him. He smiled, relieved, strangely enough.
"And here he is, in the flesh and better than ever! Well. Not quite," he added with a sniff, hands falling back down to his sides.
Jacqueline giggled, side-eyeing her brother fondly.
"Maybe it is just a little bit of freezer burn," Jack continued, Jacqueline watching him carefully. "It was fine, you know. When I originally thawed. Everything was still in working order, for a bit. But when they started going," he said, looking down at his hands, sadly.
"It was probably tough. And really hard," Jacqueline said, looking down at her own hands. "I couldn't begin to imagine what it'd be like if I didn't have mine," she continued, her hands glowing with a thought. "They're such a huge part of who I am…who you are! To feel like something that big is missing? For so long?" she waved away the magic, hands down at her side. "I'm sorry, Jack. I swear, we will get your powers back. I'll do whatever it takes to help you out."
"Well, thanks Jacqueline. That means a lot."
"Of course! You know, if they were working before, post-thaw…it's gotta be temporary."
"Goddess above, I hope so! I can't imagine being stuck like this for any longer! It's rotten."
"You mentioned."
"It's funny, I had hoped that they would come back when November rolled around, you know? Inching closer and closer to winter time here? And I always start with the frost then, anyway. Sometimes in October! But November came and went, and nothing." He frowned, a thought occurring to him. A thought that he was a bit afraid to voice. "What if…"
"What if what?"
"What if I had to be frozen to use them? What if that's what everyone meant when they said it couldn't be done?"
"I doubt that," Jacqueline said, equal parts haughty and confident. She looked deep in thought for a moment. "Impossible, actually, I should think."
"What makes you think that?"
"I'm your Legate. I've never needed to be frozen to use mine, seeing as how I've been thawed all my life. We have the same powers, so why would the rules be different?"
"What about Winter?"
"What about?"
"Well…do you think she needs to be frozen to, y'know…" he gestured with his hands, trying to blast snow everywhere. A few snowflakes moved out of his way. Jacqueline laughed.
"Winter is winter. I don't think it matters. But, to answer your question, no! I don't think so. She's frozen and thawed so many times, and not once has she lost her powers. She's been in both situations and never experienced a freezer burn."
"We're really going to call it that? Really?"
"Better than like, power failure, eh?" Jacqueline said with a shrug.
"I mean, it could be worse," Jack said with his own shrug.
"It'll grow on you."
Jack smiled. "It's not the only thing that'll grow on me."
"Hmm?" Jacqueline said, stopping. Passing her, Jack shot her a smile over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow quizzically. She blinked. "OH! Ha," she said, running to catch up. "Cute."
"There's one I've never gotten before," Jack joked.
Jacqueline laughed. "First time for everything! For the record, Jack," she said, getting serious. "Today is all snowballs and fun times. Tomorrow, though? Tomorrow we're getting right to work!"
"Oh?"
"I have a job to do, and the sooner I do it, the better. I told you! I'll do whatever it takes to get you back on your feet. I mean it," she said, with a ferocity that melted any doubt Jack had. "And the sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better," she finished, hazarding a glance up.
The better indeed, Jack thought, looking up as well. The Dome was still dull. It was stable, for now…but he could faintly make out the crevices just starting to slowly make their way back. He looked back ahead, the town coming into view.
"Jacqueline?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for giving me this chance. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm glad I've gotten it. I'm glad that you're here. With me."
"Oh," she said, once more taken aback. "Well…you're welcome, Jack. I missed you too. And I told you. I'm glad your back," she said with a playful nudge.
Jack rubbed his arm, chuckling fondly. "Me too, Jacqueline," he said, as they walked towards the very short skyline of Elfsburg. "Me too."
A/N: Do you ever just. Start doing a small edit to fix one feature that went all the way back to your first chapter because in your twenty-third chapter you realize it doesn't really work how you thought so now you have to fix ALL INSTANCES OF THIS and then when you get to chapter six go "wow, I fucking hate this!" so you decide to rewrite it a SECOND time but then can't find the proper words, and have notes and snippets in several different pages under your "Crystal Springs" OneNote Notebook and only a YEAR LATER, do you get it all put back together and making sense in a way you're happy with, thanks to one lovely scene in Frozen 2? Mood over here, tbh. Edited as of December 30/2019, and I started fixing this up nearly a YEAR AGO. And this chapter! Is why Crystal Springs Rewritten! Did not get updated at ALL in 2019!
It's a lot better now though. As always, please R and R! Tell me your favourite parts, thoughts, feelings-the fluff begins next chapter, along with some plot hints. This will be so much fun! :D