AHOUTR'S NOTE (added 12/22/19):I t's another disproportionately long chapter, because of the Frozen 2 stuff I added! Sorry again; thanks for tolerating me 8-s
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30: ICE POWERS FANTASTIC
"But here's another question," Jack started again, drumming his fingers on his stomach, "The people that saw me—why would they just be locked away? Wouldn't anyone—you know—try to get me back? Test out the theory, or something?"
Elsa shot him a forced, bitter smile, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Because everybody knows people can't have powers over ice and snow," she sighed. "Everybody knows people can't rise from the dead. Everybody knows people can't fly. Everybody knows that people like us… monsters…"
She paused, shaking her head with a sigh.
"We can't actually exist," she finished.
"Why not?"
"Oh, Jack…" The Ice Powers Girl rolled over a bit, a bitter, forced smile on her face. "Everybody knows that monsters aren't real."
He fell silent again, seeing the pain in her eyes. After a few moments, Elsa sighed, rolling back over on the floor and looking up to the underside of the bedframe again.
"And then I was," she said quietly.
There was another long, painful pause.
Jack glanced to the side, pulling in a deep breath and carefully measuring his words.
"Kinda makes you wonder what everybody will think they know tomorrow," he said softly.
"Yeah." Elsa nodded slowly, continuing to stare up at the map. "Kinda does."
The Fifth Spirit folded her arms across her chest, closing her eyes. Her lips pressed together tightly, she let out her breath, her beautiful face filled with pain once more. Jack's stomach twisted.
Just a little fun magic, he found himself thinking, While she isn't looking… just a tiiiiiiny little snowfla—wait. NO.
Resisting the urge, he readjusted his arms to grip his hands together behind his head. No magic. Not right now. Definitely not without telling her. And besides… there were too many questions left to be answered.
He looked back up to the map, pulling in another breath.
"So… the threads," he started slowly. "I was just noticing. They're all different colors. Is there a reason, or…?"
His voice trailed off, and he looked back to her.
"Are they color-coded?" Elsa smiled, finally turning over to face him again. "They are."
"How so?"
"Connecting characteristics between the accounts," she explained. "You know, to help me sort out the ones that really were just stories."
He raised his eyebrows, a tiny smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. Focusing on a white string, he followed it with his eyes, looking at the knots and pins linking the strips of parchment together.
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Jack Frost. Sighted 10/30/1813. Flying, white hair. A#2, P#304
Jack Frost. Sighted 1/25/1732. Snowball fight, thin body, white hair, staff. A#2, P#15
Jack Frost. Sighted 12/3/1692. Blue eyes, white hair, freezing pond. A#8, P#60
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"White string for white hair, right?" he asked.
Elsa's face broke into a smile, and she nodded. Jack's heart leapt, seeing the happy expression returning to her features once again.
There it was.
Alrighty, Snowflake. Research a happier topic? Jack thought. Let's talk research.
He grinned, awkwardly scooting himself down towards the foot of the bed on the floor. Elsa laughed into her hand, and he looked back up, selecting a yellow thread and tracing it with his finger, reading the strips of parchment that were strung together underneath it.
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Jack Frost. Sighted 3/7/1823. Dancing on frozen lake. Alone. A#13, P#304
Jack Frost. Sighted 3/15/1702. Snowball fight, white hair. A#2, P#25
Jack Frost. Sighted 12/10/1778. Freezing streets, laughing, thin body, staff . A#8, P#80
Jack Frost. Sighted 11/8/1734. With sledding children, walking through. A#22, P#82
Jack Frost. Sighted 1/9/1695. Swirling snow, no further description. A#16, P#58
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He glanced back to Elsa, raising his eyebrows.
"Yellow for fun?" he asked.
She nodded, beaming. Jack's heart leapt again, looking up from his upside-down position on the floor as her cerulean eyes shined in the flickering candlelight. The pink flush of her pale cheeks, the slight tint of gold in her hair, and that—smile.
Elsa's teeth were as white as freshly fallen snow, too.
After a long pause, Jack jolted slightly, his eyes snapping back into focus. Letting out a soft laugh and shaking his head, he flopped over onto his stomach.
"Why yellow?" he asked.
Elsa shrugged, propping herself up onto an elbow. "It seemed like a sunshiny type of color."
He let out a sharp bark of laughter, awkwardly crawling back up towards the headboard on his forearms. "Sunshine?" he scoffed. "Boring. I mean, when you could have a blizzardy kind of sky."
"I supposed I could see that. I mean—I prefer blizzards, too," she admitted. "Sunshine is nice, but snow clouds are—well, they're exciting. When I didn't put them there by accident."
His face only a few inches from hers again, Jack raised his eyebrows, grinning mischievously. "In that case," he said, leaning close into her ear, "Let the storm rage on."
She laughed softly, looking down. The Snow Queen opened her mouth to begin to say something, and Jack then saw her let out another nervous little laugh, shaking her head.
"Whaaaaaat?" Jack teased. He reached forward, gingerly picking up her braid and giving it a gentle tug. "I know that look, Snowflake. What are you thinking?"
Your hair is really soft.
"I just—I guess it—um," she said quickly, "It's just a—a change. A paradigm shift.—since the last time I was under here. You know? I mean, I—I know it now, and especially since Ahtohallan, but I just—well, the last time I was under here, I never thought—!"
Elsa stopped abruptly, shakily pulling in a deep breath. Nervously fidgeting with her fingers, she then shook her head again, and hesitantly looked back into Jack's eyes.
"Ice powers—good," she stammered.
The statement caught Jack completely off guard.
Hiding it, he grinned sheepishly, taking her hand off the floor and holding it in his own. She didn't pull away. Playing with her fingers for a moment, he then looked back up into her eyes.
"Ice powers fantastic, ma'am," he whispered.
She blushed again, smiling shyly as Jack kissed the back of her hand, peering up at her through his eyelashes. He then set it down, rolling over onto his back again and looking to the threads.
Just as he was about to select another colored thread, Jack heard Elsa give a quick gasp. He jerked his head back around, and realized that she was lying on the ground, her head back, covering her face with her hands. She started giggling uncontrollably, her entire body trembling as she shook her head.
"I'm sorry—I—I just," she laughed breathily, shaking her head and blushing furiously. "I never thought I'd be doing this. Here."
"Doing what?"
"Um," Elsa gasped. "I—Jack, I spent six years of my adolescence working on this map. Before then, I memorized everything about you in every storybook I could find. It was—it was so many years of dreaming, and now—we're—you're—!"
She took her hands away from her face, running her fingers into her hair. Jack raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth as Elsa sucked in a trembling breath, looking to him, and then shaking her head vigorously again.
"Jack. Frost," she giggled breathlessly. "I am showing this. To Jack. Frost. I just—I—I can't—!"
She cupped her hands over her eyes, rolling over onto her back again and shaking her head, gasping for breath. Jack grinned sheepishly, feeling a little blood rushing to his face.
"Well—um," he said softly, "It's—it's kind of eye-opening for me, too. I'm really grateful you brought me here."
"Sure. Anytime," she stammered between gasps, her blush going deeper in its hue. She shook her head again, pulling her hands down from her eyes and onto her mouth.
"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I just—okay, if I could go back in time—to the nine-year-old me—and tell her that she would someday be lying under her map with Jack Frost, just, you know, having a conversation, and—"
"—Wait, the WHAT year old you?"
She abruptly stopped giggling, her face going pale.
"Never mind," she said quickly.
"How old were you?"
"It doesn't matter, Jack!"
"You said nine years old, didn't you?"
Elsa's face flushed, and she bit her lip, nervously looking down at her dress and fidgeting with the seam. After a long, painful pause, Jack shook his head and let out a long sigh.
"Sifting through two-hundred-year-old psychiatric records for references to an invisible dead man," he breathed. "What a perfectly appropriate hobby for a young girl."
"But that was what made me happy!" Elsa protested. "And, given everything going on when I was nine, I don't think it's that absurd. It made perfect sense for me."
"Nine years old? Seriously?" he sputtered. "That's when kids are supposed to be squeezing out the last bit of fun from childhood. The last hurrah, before the hormones start to hit. You were supposed to be out playing. Having a good time. You know," he scoffed, "With friends? Ever heard of them?"
"The Jack Frost theories were my friends," she said quietly. "And, think about it. It's not like I was allowed to go outside, or anything. I couldn't even see my sister. What else could I have been doing?"
"Yes, what else could a nine-year-old princess possibly have been doing with her free time?"
Elsa didn't respond.
"Look," Jack sighed, shaking his head, "I—this is all very flattering, and all. That you were researching me. But the reason why you were doing it—it's horrifying, Elsa."
A long, painful silence fell over them.
Finally, Elsa pulled in a deep breath, still avoiding eye contact. She stared determinately up at the map.
"I was doing it because I needed hope," she choked.
"Yeah. It never should have been stolen from you."
She went quiet again. After a few moments, Jack scoffed again, gingerly touching the wooden plank above his face.
"I mean—not to mention," he said darkly, "That's—um—that's a solid wood bed frame. How on earth did you even push the pins in? Those are lady fingers you've got there, Snowflake. I can't even begin to imagine the amount of time invested here."
The Ice Powers Girl smiled bitterly, reaching over and carefully picking up the tea candle from off the spoon. She set it on the ground, and Jack watched as she grasped the spoon's handle, picking it up.
"Doubles as a hammer," she said, tossing it to herself. "And then I carved out a bit of the handle for some extra leverage, when that wasn't working. An actual tool would have gone missing, but—well, in a castle this size? Nobody missed the spoon."
Jack raised his eyebrows, letting out a sharp bark of laughter. Elsa smiled sheepishly, setting the spoon back down and rolling over on the floor again as he ran his fingers through his white hair.
"I've gotta hand it to you," he laughed, shaking his head. "You were—one—heck—of an nine-year-old."
She shrugged, blushing slightly. "Technically, I was working on this map until I was fifteen."
"Oh. Well, then," he retorted, "I stand corrected. Totally normal behavior."
"That's a relief."
"Actually, that was sarcasm."
"Humor me."
"No."
The silence fell again as the two stared up at the hundreds of slips of parchment pinned into the map on the underside of the bedframe.
"You know… I think it actually turned out to be a really good thing," Elsa admitted. "All of the research. I mean, it wasn't just you that I found."
Jack's heart leapt into his throat, the mental image of a tall, pale figure in a black robe flashing behind his eyes. "You—uh," he stammered, "Who do—what do you mean?"
Not him, not him, not him, not him…!
She sighed. "Well… for a start, it got me interested in the Enchanted Forest again. I wouldn't have recognized the crystal runes so quickly, if I hadn't been studying them and aware of them for so many years. It's part of why we were able to evacuate Arendelle proper so fast."
…What?
"Huh?" Jack asked.
"The Crystal Runes," she repeated.
Elsa turned over slightly, gazing into his eyes with expectation in her own. Feeling his cheeks flushing, Jack pulled in his breath.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he admitted.
"Really?" she wondered, "You don't? They're all over the old artwork in books about magic. The nature spirits' runes? Water droplets, sparks of fire… ?"
Jack stared at her blankly.
"I still have no idea what you're talking about," he said again.
"Oh."
Her face fell, and the Fifth Spirit rolled back onto her back again, biting her lip. "Well, they're on big stones, bordering the outside of the Enchanted Forest. And I've already spilled to you about that."
"Uh-huh." Jack kneaded his eyebrows. "Please remind me of where this place actually is?"
"North of here," Elsa answered. "As far north as we can go."
"Aw, come on," he chuckled, "That's not true. As far north as you can go is the North Pole. And then you'd run into North, and he'd give you a pep talk and a ceremony for no reason."
She laughed. "I said, it's as far north as we could go. At a certain point, there's just ocean, and the Nokk doesn't like to go further than Ahtohallan."
To this, Jack grinned. "Maybe you need somebody to fly you over the expanse."
The Fifth Spirit of the Enchanted Forest smiled shyly. "I think I'd like that," she admitted.
Jack Frost and Elsa stared into each other's eyes for a long, silent moment.
Jolting slightly, Jack cleared his throat and looked down, blushing as Elsa did the same. He shifted himself on the floor.
"So, these… runes," he tried again, "They're on some big rocks, right? And then artwork?"
"Yes. But you can see them in more places than that," Elsa said. "Like, Bruni has the Fire Rune on his back. Literally, on his back."
"M'kay, who?"
Elsa suddenly looked wistful, her face melting into a smile. She pulled her hands in to her stomach. "Bruni. He's the Fire Spirit."
An unexpected pang of jealousy shooting through him, Jack froze. Shifting uncomfortably, he glanced down. "And you're—friends with him?" he asked, a sudden tension in his voice, "Are you guys close?"
How do YOU know if he has a rune on his back?
"We're extremely close," The Snow Queen smiled. "He's adorable. I mean, after the little awkwardness of how we first met, we've gotten along very well."
"Oh?" Jack squeaked, "How's that?"
Elsa, clearly not noticing how uncomfortable the Youngest Guardian suddenly was, laughed, smoothing a piece of hair back into her braid. "He sort of attacked me," she admitted.
Jack Frost jolted and snapped his head up, his fingers suddenly clenching into a fist so tight that a fine layer of frost began to spread over the carpet. "He attacked you?" he gasped.
"Well, all the spirits did," Elsa shrugged, "Except for the Earth Spirits, but that was kind of a relief. I was able to beat Bruni without too much trouble. I just had to corner him."
Propped up frozen on elbow, Jack stared at her in dismay, his mouth hanging slightly open. After a few moments, he shut it, his eyes narrow.
"And you're still in contact with him?" he sputtered.
"Of course."
"Well, then!" Jack huffed, "I'd love to meet him."
Elsa beamed. "I'll introduce you! You will love him."
"Right, sure," Jack snapped, "Sounds dandy. I think I'd like to have a little talk with this—Bruni."
He flopped back over onto the carpet, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up at the map. Sure, he'd talk to this Fire Spirit, who was DUMB enough to attack the Snow Queen.
Or maybe I'll just ice-blast him in the face, he thought angrily. See how his stupid fire likes THAT.
"Um," Elsa started again hesitantly, "Bruni doesn't really—talk."
"Oh, he'll talk."
The Guardian scoffed, shaking his head. His teeth clenched together, he felt the Ice Powers Girl shift on the floor beside him.
"Bruni is a salamander," Elsa clarified.
"I don't care if he's a flippin'—!"
Jack Frost stopped talking.
"Wait," he tried again, his voice breaking, "You said—this Fire Spirit—he's a—?"
"—Salamander."
Jack's mouth fell open. As Elsa nodded, smiling nervously, he blushed.
"Of course he is," Jack huffed to himself, letting out a self-conscious laugh. "He's a salamander. Of course he's a… salamander."
The Spirit of Winter exhaled.
I'm. An idiot.
"Anyway…" she started again, "Bruni is, of course, just one of the spirits that attacked. They were trying to stop us every step of the way."
"Snowflake…"
Rolling towards her, Jack propped himself up onto his elbow under the map. She looked towards him, her brilliant, kind gaze pinning him into place for a long moment.
Oh, she was gorgeous.
"Jack?" Elsa asked softly.
He grimaced. "Okay, I don't know how to ask this, so I'll just ask," Jack finally blurted, giving his head a quick shake, "But, back when we first met—you told me that you thought this voice, calling you out there—was mine?"
Elsa bit her lip, staring downwards towards her stomach. "I did," she admitted, "Honestly, I think it was the main reason I was even okay with going out into the unknown. You know, at first."
He nodded. "So, you took off on an adventure, leaving your kingdom, threatening your life, blah blah blah… and your first thought was… that you might find me?"
"My first thought was Arendelle."
"Okay, yeah, but besides that."
The Ice Powers Girl shifted uncomfortably, hugging her arms across her stomach. Swallowing hard, she blushed.
"You were definitely a part of it," she whispered.
His heart leapt.
His face melting into a sheepish grin, Jack Frost rolled over onto his back again, folding his arms behind his head. Queen Elsa—the Fifth Spirit of the Enchanted Forest, this sweet, smart female winter spirit—was adorable.
She was adorable.
Oh—and, talking again, he suddenly realized.
"And then," Elsa was saying, "When I was riding up to Ahtohallan on the Nokk, and I realized that the river was frozen…!" her voice trailed off, and she blushed, letting out a nervous laugh. "Well, you can imagine. I thought it was proof. I was so sure that I was about to meet you, and…!"
Jack's eyebrows lifted. As the Ice Powers Girl shook her head, he didn't respond.
"You know," Elsa admitted, "I'm actually really grateful that it was my mother's memory inside, because that was AMAZING. I mean, when I was expecting to find you—I'm fairly certain that finding anything less that my mother's memory telling me my destiny would have been the biggest let-down ever."
Jack let out a startled chuckle, his face cracking into an uncontrollable grin. "WELL, then!" he laughed, "As long as I get to be as cool as your mom."
"My mom was very cool."
They both laughed, looking to each other again. Elsa's eyes were bright with the memory, her cheeks flushed with joy.
After a few moments, her face began to fall. "I only wish that she'd told us about…!"
Jack's heart leapt into his throat. Before he could respond, though, she shrugged, giving her head a quick shake and smiling weakly once again.
"Well," Elsa breathed. "She had her secrets. And her reasons for keeping them. I don't think she meant to take magic to her grave, though."
"What happened?" Jack asked softly. "Your mom was there, in this place, right? At least, her memory was?"
"Yes. And she was the one to make it clear to me that I was the Fifth Spirit all along."
The Ice Powers Girl shifted on the floor, adjusting her dress. After a few moments, she stiffened.
"Ahtohallan taught me was I was what I was looking for," she started again suddenly, a defensive tension on the edge of her voice, "I had my own destiny. I didn't need someone else, even someone else like me, to give me value. I have my own purpose, whether or not there's a 'more powerful' person in my life."
Lying on her back, Jack realized that the Snow Queen had now crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her entire body rigid like she was bracing herself. He nodded.
"Yeah?" Jack agreed.
Taken aback, Elsa glanced in his direction. Seeing that she still wasn't quite looking at him—still uncomfortable—he pulled in his breath, scooting an inch towards her.
"Snowflake, it sounds like you were trying to find your center," Jack added, "And I think that's really important. But yeah, you can really only figure that out for yourself. I could never have given you that."
"You're not offended?"
"Offended?"
"Well—I just told you that I figured out why I'm here, and what I'm meant to do—and that it isn't just that I exist so that you can mentor me," she stammered, "I—I'm the Fifth Spirit of the Enchanted Forest. And you had nothing to do with that."
Her muscles were still tense, and she was cringing, like she was expecting him to fight her on this point. Instead, Jack shrugged.
"I'm not that full of myself," he chuckled. "Now, if I stay under here that much longer…"
He gestured up to the hundreds of slips of paper, the map of his existence stretched out over the underside of her childhood bed. Elsa laughed, her shoulders relaxing again as her face melted back into a smile.
That's better.
"So, this… adventure of yours," Jack started again, "It all came down to your mom? Seeing her again, and figuring out the whole 'Fifth Spirit' deal?"
"Anna played a huge part in it, too," Elsa said. "It's how I actually knew that she was ready to be the Queen."
"What'd she do?"
The Snow Queen looked abruptly uncomfortable again.
"She kind of tore down a terrible old piece of the past. But I think I'd rather know you a bit longer before getting into that part of Arendelle's history," Elsa admitted. "It's—a bit dark."
"That's not surprising."
"It isn't?"
He grinned bitterly, letting out a sigh. "Snowflake," he exhaled, "When you've been around as long as I have, there's not all that much that surprises you. With corruption, I mean."
"I'm not sure if that's more reassuring or depressing," Elsa admitted.
"Well," Jack shrugged, "I can tell you that kids are usually pretty awesome, so at least there's that."
A look of pain swept over her beautiful features. "If only they stayed that way."
The Snow Queen's face fell, and Jack's stomach twisted. Looking back up to the map, he cleared his throat.
"So!" he started, changing the subject. "The threads! It's brown for the staff, blue for my eyes, yellow for fun, white for white hair, red for flying, pink for anything related to smiling, and purple for walking through people?"
"Right." Elsa smiled, shaking her head as she relaxed again. "Clearly, by the end, I was running out of ideas. And colors."
Jack let the purple thread slip off the end of his finger, and it twanged back into place over the slips of parchment and the map. Pushing himself back up towards her on the floor, he looked to Elsa again, grinning. "What, pink for my smile isn't the first color that you would have chosen?" he chuckled. "You don't say."
"Actually, that one actually kind of makes sense," she retorted. "I mean—you know—people would talk about your teeth some, but pink is for lips, right?"
He shrugged. "I guess I could see that."
"Except… well, now that I'm looking at them," Elsa mused, rolling over and propping herself up, "I guess they're a bit lighter than that."
"My lips?"
"Yeah." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied his face. "They're more of a violet type of pink, rather than a deep pink like the string. I mean, a lot of people would mention to teeth, and some would say that you had thinner, longer lips, but it wasn't all that clear, in the accounts. Most people saw you from far away, so your mouth wasn't really that visible."
"Thinner, longer lips?" Jack sputtered.
"I'd say they're more normal-sized, honestly."
Jack raised his eyebrows, gingerly reaching up and touching them. After a few moments, he shook his head, chuckling softly under his breath.
"I'm actually sort of creepily impressed," he said. "You've analyzed my mouth even more carefully than Tooth. I didn't think that was possible."
"Tooth?"
"Oh—right. That's the—"
"—Tooth Fairy?" Elsa finished.
He grinned. "Correct."
She shrugged, smiling. "Just assume that every mythical person you've ever heard of is real?"
"Pretty much."
"So… let's see," she said, counting on her fingers, "Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, the Easter Bunny, Cupid, Bigfoot—"
"—Actually, his name is Phil."
"Of course it is."
Jack chuckled, folding his arms behind his head and looking to her with a sly glint in his gaze. "Regarding my lips, though," he said, "I'd say you only left one thing out."
"Oh?"
He leaned in a little closer to her, raising his eyebrows.
"They taste fantastic," he whispered dramatically. Jack winked. "Just so you know."
Elsa startled back a bit and laughed, rolling her eyes. "Thanks for informing me."
"You're not going to just believe me, are you?"
"I think you're pretty trustworthy."
Reaching over his foot, Jack playfully flicked the hem of her dress with his toe. "Request permission to persuade you otherwise?"
Her face went pale. "Um—"
"—Kidding, Snowflake."
Elsa laughed self-conciously, shaking her head. "What am I going to do with you, Jack Frost?"
He scooted a few inches towards her on the floor. "Do I get to offer suggestions?"
Her eyes widening at the sudden closeness, the Ice Powers Girl opened her mouth to say something, and then blushed furiously, closing it again. Letting out a breathy tsk of a laugh, she then groaned in frustration and collapsed back onto the carpet, cupping her hands over her eyes. Jack grinned, rolling back and folding his arms behind his head.
They both stared up at the map again, the colored threads twisting messily in an enormous web above them.
"So… here's another question for you," Jack started, reaching up and tracing a purple thread. "Apparently, people saw me walking through other people—and, uh, vice-versa. And then testified about it, in the various records. That didn't—did that not scare you, or…?"
His voice trailed off, and he looked to her again, letting his hand fall back onto his stomach. She pulled in a quick breath, shrugging slightly.
"Well," she admitted, "To be completely honest, I—I thought that you were some sort of spirit. A ghost or something—it was one of my theories about you. Like, that you were not really a physical being. Like the Nokk, or something. She's a shapeshifter. She just usually prefers taking the form of a mare."
His eyebrows lifted slightly. He wasn't expecting that, but—well, given the context and the accounts, it made sense.
Elsa worked really hard to make things make sense.
A smile twitched out of the side of Jack's mouth as he stared at the underside of the bed frame. Glancing towards her, he crept his hand over to Elsa's on the floor, and gently placed his on top of her own. Then, interlacing his fingers with hers, he laughed softly.
"You're a fantastic researcher, but you may rest assured, Snowflake," Jack chuckled, "I am—very—definitely—a physical being."
She blushed slightly, but didn't pull away. Jack smiled, tracing his fingers over hers as the wave of relief swept over him again at the touch of her skin. It was pale, just like his, and cooler than most people's. Even though he usually couldn't actually feel them, when Jack was close to another person, he could feel the slight heat radiating form their body, so he knew that Elsa—despite being warmer than he was—was unusual. And her skin was soft, too. It was soft, like her hair. Like her heart. Soft. Everything about her was soft. Touching her, touching soft; it was WONDERFUL, and her hand was delicate, just like her slender wrist was, and—
"Um—Jack?"
He jolted, his eyes snapping back into focus. The Ice Powers Girl swallowed hard, looking to her hand, and then nervously meeting his gaze again.
"Can I—um," she choked softly, "Can I please have my hand back?"
Jack felt his throat tighten with embarrassment. Letting out a nervous, breathy laugh as blood rose to his face, he then shook his head vigorously, rolling back over onto the floor.
Smooth.
"I—wait," Elsa stammered, "Was that—! I—?"
Jack looked to her in confusion. "Was that what?" he asked.
"I—um—!"
Her voice trailed off. After a few moments, Jack watched as Elsa pulled in her breath, hesitantly looking into his eyes.
"Was that—um," she choked, dropping her voice to a whisper. "I—Jack, were you—flirting at me? Just now? And before?"
The Spirit of Winter raised his eyebrows.
After a few moments, he burst out laughing, shaking his head and rolling over towards her to pick up her hand again. "Gee, Snowflake, I don't know. You tell me," he retorted, grinning as he played with her fingers.
"I—I'm sorry," Elsa stammered, "I'm just—I'm bad at this. I'm trying to figure it out, but I can't tell when—"
"—Oh, come on. Give yourself a break," Jack laughed, giving her hand a final squeeze before releasing it. "You're doing fine."
"I can't flirt."
"Then I'll do it for you?"
Elsa's mouth fell open in shock as Jack grinned, rolling onto his back again to look upwards. After a few moments of starting back up at the map, his gaze found its way to the list of characteristics again, and—
Wait.
"Hold up," he said, "So, when I first met you—was it because of—?"
"Did I recognize you from the accounts?" she asked, visibly grateful for a chance to change the subject. "Well—eventually, yes, but not at first."
"And you thought you were dreaming."
"Wouldn't anyone?"
To this, Jack shrugged. "I guess I could see that," he admitted. "But—uh—what do you mean? When you said you didn't recognize me at first? I thought I was pretty straightforward with you about who I was."
She blushed slightly, fidgeting with her fingers. "I—um—I guess I was pretty set on my Little Old Man theory."
"Little Old Man Theory?"
Elsa shook her head, laughing softly. "Yes," she said, leaning down and reaching for a larger piece of parchment. She carefully unpinned it, handing it to him. "I'm not much of an artist, but—well—putting together the consistencies, I came up with this. It was my best guess at what you looked like."
Holding it up in the faint candlelight, Jack looked at the picture. It was a tiny painting of an old man, holding a cane. He was flying, it appeared, with enormous swan-like wings, matching his chalked-white hair and long beard.
Jack exhaled slowly.
"You—um," he said, "You thought my staff—was a cane?"
"Oh, come on," Elsa retorted, "You have to admit it makes sense. You had white hair, the accounts went back for hundreds of years, you carried a stick…"
Her voice trailed off. Jack closed his eyes, as if in pain, and readjusted himself on the floor. Shaking his head, he then turned over, and handed the painting of the bent little old man back to Elsa.
"I feel really old right now," he groaned.
"Um," she said softly, "Jack—with all due respect, you—um, you are really old."
"Not helping, Snowflake."
"It's interesting! In fact—let's see. Now that I know your age," she mused absent-mindedly, "And if you approximate my age as twenty—"
"—OH, no," Jack interrupted, clapping his hands over his ears, "You're doing Creepy Math. Please not the Creepy Math—"
"Fiftee—wait," she paused, turning to him, "How old were you when you died?"
He took his hands down, turning to her. "North says I was nineteen on his records."
Elsa shrugged. "Okay, so that's about twenty—"
"—Not listening!"
"If you divide it by—"
"—STILL NOT LISTENING—!"
"—Sixteen times my age!"
"—THAAAAAAA FIIIIIIRST NO-EHHHHHHHHL," Jack yelled suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his hands into his ears, "THEEEEEE AAAAAAAAANGEL DID SAAAAAAAAY—"
"Jack, it's not a big deal," Elsa laughed. "I just think it's interesting. I mean, without the approximation, it's really closer to fourteen, but it's not like it matters to me."
He abruptly stopped singing, taking his hands down from his ears and looking to her desperately.
"Okay, what I said about flirting with you two minutes ago," he choked, "I take it back. I take it all back. I was not flirting with you. In fact, I was not even touching you, and I was definitely, absolutely, not about to hit on you with another brilliant sexual innuendo that had just occurred to me. I would like you to know that I was, in fact, reading you a story and sending you to bed."
"Excuse me?" Elsa laughed, "It's only about four in the afternoon! Also, wow."
"Yes. Far past your bedtime, young missy."
"Not likely, Gramps."
"You need to respect your elders, whippersnapper."
"I don't need to do a darned thing you say, old man."
Jack gasped dramatically, looking to her with a feigned expression of hurt as the Ice Powers Girl giggled. Then, he raised his eyebrows. "Keep talking back to me and I'll have to give you a spanking," he chuckled. Jack then dropped his voice a few tones, beginning to fold his arms behind his head as a little smirk crossed his face. "Or maybe I'll give you one anyway-OW!"
Recoiling in pain, he sharply sucked in his breath, clutching his ankle in his hands as Elsa pulled back her foot from the kick. Jack rolled over onto his side.
"SHOES!" he sputtered, "POINTY SHOES—why so pointy—AURGH!"
"Huh," Elsa mused. "They double as a weapon. I think I like these heels even more now."
"The line," Jack gasped, "I crossed it, didn't I?"
"You think?"
He grinned sheepishly, letting out a nervous laugh as he rolled onto his back again. "Honestly, though," Jack chuckled, gingerly releasing his foot and stretching it out again, "I—I still feel like—well, like my age kind of stopped. North said that I was nineteen on his records, before I died."
On the floor next to him, Elsa shrugged. "So… you're like… three hundred-something, and nineteen. At the same time."
"Yeah. Go figure."
Elsa shook her head, letting out a nervous laugh and looking into his eyes. "And if I'm twenty-three," she said slowly, "Who's robbing the cradle, then, you or me?"
"Robbing the cradle!?"
"Oh, forget about it."
"FORGET about it?" Jack sputtered. "It's that EASY? You mean, we can just forget about the fact that I'm—a lot—of times your age?"
"If we're really the only existing male and female of our species—as we've defined it," she laughed, "Do our ages really matter?"
"Well, when you say it like that—!"
She laid her head back onto the floor, rolling her eyes and laughing. As Jack looked into her beautiful face—feeling the heat of embarrassment in his own—he felt a strange wave of relief sweep over him, accompanying his sudden self-consciousness. If she'd told him that she, like the Guardians, was actually a few hundred years old, he would have believed it in an instant. But she was only twenty-three. No matter how old she acted, she was still blasted TWENTY-THREE. While he was—older. Even though she didn't seem to care.
At least it was all out there, now.
"Well—I guess all those years should make more sense now," he mumbled. "I mean, why this would be such a shock. I thought—I thought no one could see me. And all I really needed to do was to go and find the insane asylums. I spent three hundred years in total isolation from everyone for no reason."
Elsa's breath caught.
"What… did you say?" she gasped.
Jack's eyes widened, his throat going tight.
NO! NOOOOOOO, no, no, no, no, no, no, keep smiling!
Maybe he could shrug it off. Jack forced a grin. "Elsa, I told you that I was invisible," he chuckled nonchalantly. "It's not a big—"
"—I thought you were meaning it figuratively," she choked, "Or just with some people, but—you were completely—no one ever saw—?"
His heart leapt into his throat. Jack bit his lip, feeling blood rushing to his face as the old wounds ripped open again. He wanted so badly to keep her laughing, smiling, smiling at him, but…
Well… he couldn't really lie, either.
Jack closed his eyes, as if in pain, and pulled in a long breath. He nodded slowly, saying nothing, but letting the silence envelop them again in the sputtering candlelight under the bed.
A few more moments passed.
"And I walked through you," Elsa breathed.
Jack's stomach twisted, hearing the agony in her voice. He pulled in another quick breath, turning to look at her. Elsa's face had drained of color, and she stared intently into his eyes, her mouth slightly open with horror. His heart leapt into his throat again, seeing the pain in her expression as snowflakes began to materialize in the air all around them, falling softly onto the carpet.
"It's—it's okay. Don't worry about it," he stammered. "I mean, you—you were just trying to protect Arende—"
"—And I. Walked. Through you."
The silence fell again. More snowflakes were materializing around her, her face pale in the candlelight.
"You were in Extended Isolation," she quavered. "For three hundred years."
He shifted uncomfortably on the floor, letting out a nervous laugh. "You're making it sound so official."
"In Arendelle, it's legally considered to be a torture technique, Jack."
He opened his mouth to try to say something again, but just like it had before, no sound came out. Elsa rolled over, propping herself up onto her elbows, her soft blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight as she stared into his own.
"Jack," she choked, "I am—I am so sorry—I—if there was any way that I could go back and—"
"—Elsa, it's okay, alright?"
He folded his arms tightly over his chest, struggling to keep his expression calm. The pain was fresh again, the wound being ripped open from the memory, as if he was feeling the billowing tail of Elsa's capelet rushing through his body one more. There wasn't even a word strong enough to describe the pain of that experience.
Which was—he struggled to tell himself—exactly why Elsa didn't need to know that he'd felt it.
But…
"You know that you can tell me—if talking helps," she said softly. "Right?"
He froze. The Ice Powers Girl scooted an inch closer to him, gingerly placing her hand on top of his.
"Please?" she whispered.
Jack bit his lip, his throat going a bit tight with shock. This beautiful young queen, with her kingdom and her Forest and her powers and a very dark past of her own—she wanted to know about his?
If you want Elsa to open up to you, North's voice played in his mind, It might be a good idea to try opening yourself up to her.
Feeling Elsa's hand on his own, her expectant gaze on his face, Jack swallowed hard. Closing his eyes, and then opening them again, he pulled in a deep breath.
Well, he thought, I guess—here I go, North.
He looked to the stunningly beautiful Snow Queen beside him, propped up on her elbows in the cramped space underneath her childhood bed.
Here goes nothing.
.
.
AUTHOR'S (lengthy, long-winded, borderline disturbingly enthusiastic) NOTE:
1. One hundred follows?! ONE HUNDRED FOLLOWS, ON THE WEEK OF MY BIRTHDAY?! AAAAAH, I love you all! THANK YOU SO MUCH—best birthday gift EVER! :D
2. I went ahead and put a new summary on for the story—I'm not sure if I like it or not. Opinions are appreciated!
3. Just sticking a general THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS AND STUFF here! You have no idea how much your kind and wonderful words mean to me, and I LOVE YOU ALL!
4. Okay, so, I did a LOT of "writing ahead" this week, and—OOOOOOH, I am so excited about some of the upcoming plot twists! Do you have ANY idea how tempting it is to skip forward about 300,000 words, just so everybody can freak out over the drama with me? Oooo, I'm so stoked—basically, regarding the movies and everybody's backstory, I intend to explain—everything. Ice Alliance, for the record, has hardly even gotten STARTED. And the plot is going to be SO INSANELY INSANE THAT I CAN'T WAIT TO GET TO THE SECOND HALF EVEN THOUGH WE'RE, LIKE, MAYBE ONE TENTH OF THE WAY THROUGH so please stick with me, everybody, because we've got a LOT of ground to cover here. If you've actually been liking this so far (I still can't believe that people do!)… you ain't seen NOTHIN' YET, folks! :D AAAAAUGH, I AM HAVING SO MUCH FUNNNNNNNNNNN THANK YOU FOR ALL BEING HERE AND JUSTIFYING MY SECRET HOBBY!
5. As for content of the next chapter, I am going to warn you right here and now: Despite the fact that the plot has hardly even gotten started, the upcoming chapter—"The Demon of Burgess"—is, arguably, one of THE VERY DARKEST ONES. ("Butterflies," which we'll get to in maybe 200,000 more words, is probably darker, but... yeah. Dark dark dark dark DARK.) There's a lot of intense stuff coming up in this fic, but the backstory I'm giving to Jack—well, you'll see what I mean. There's a reason Jack cries so easily. (Watch his expressions in ROTG. Notice how often his eyes tear up?) You have been warned—and we are now about to dive into one of the very darkest parts of Ice Alliance. As North would say: BUCKLE UP!