AUTHOR'S NOTE: Once again, I'd really like to thank everybody for their support. And as for you, dear self-proclaimed "proud male Jelsa shipper," I think you'll find that you're actually in pretty good company... I have no way of knowing this for sure, but from the best analysis I can do (watching favorites, follows, reviews, etc, and going through people's profiles to track my demographics), I have reason to believe that the Ice Alliance readership generally sits somewhere around ONE THIRD MALE. (It could be as low as 20%, but I'm fairly certain it isn't more than about 40%. From my SUPER rough estimate.) ;) Despite the stereotypes, there are a LOT of men (yep, adult men included!) in this fandom, and involved in romance-focused fandoms in general. (Take heart, ladies! Legitimately romantic guys DO exist! They're just— a little more shy about it? I think? Male readers, please feel free to weigh in on this in the comments.)

For writing Jack, I also try to pay particular attention to my male reviewers, because when it comes to writing male perspective, ahem, I'M GUESSING. XD The clearest example of this would be that breakfast table scene with Jack and Eugene trying to outdo each other. Originally, this was just a funny and light-hearted joking session, but in response to the male reaction I was getting, I altered the scene before putting it up to have Jack using the joking with Eugene as a way of venting his extreme frustration (reflecting the frustration expressed by the guys on here). Oh… and there have been several weirdly hilarious instances of:

Male Response: OH MY WORD, NOPENOTTELLING, THAT'S SO SEXUAL

Me: Sexual? What are you talking about? There's nothing sexual about the ooooooOOOOOOooooooooooooh… (*whispers*) okay now that you point it out I can see how you read it that way even though that was definitely NOT what I was thinking while writing it… XD

Anyways, you are all wonderful, and the reviews and support mean more to me than I can explain. Frankly, they're a huge part of why I keep writing. Thank you all so much again for reading, keep being awesome, and I hope you have a fantabulous day! :)

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80: MESSAGES

Elsa had stopped breathing.

Her heart stopped. Her blood stopped. Time stopped, as the realization sank in.

Unless there's somebody ELSE around here with ice powers.

From where he was standing halfway down the hallway, Jack Frost was gripping his staff so hard that his knuckles had turned white, frozen in his place. His eyes wide, his face went pale, a few sparkling snowflakes beginning to materialize out of the air around him.

Her own cheeks flushing, Elsa could hardly swallow her anger, her teeth clenching together as she forced herself to pull in a shaky breath.

How dare he.

How. DARE he!

The flurries that had been beginning to fall around her own body stopped midair, and she gripped her gloved hands together under the shawl. Prince Frederik cluelessly took a step towards her.

"Your majesty, it's alright," he offered, beginning to place a comforting hand on her shoulder as she jerked away from him, "I slipped on ice. I mean—your ice, but—"

"—I am so sorry that this has happened to you, Prince Frederik," Elsa gritted, making him startle as she suddenly whirled to face him, "But I can assure you that it will NOT be happening again."

She said the last words so resolutely that they fell like a stone, resounding through the impressively tight silence that suddenly rang through the hallway. Blushing, the young queen stumbled a step back, then righting herself and standing up again as regally as she could. "Now—if you'll excuse me."

Elsa turned and walked away from him, powering down the hallway towards the Spirit of Winter as she tried to contain herself. She HAD to conceal. Prince Frederik couldn't know. He couldn't—!

She could feel the drop in air temperature as she swept past Jack Frost, her long capelet billowing behind them across the carpet. She gripped her mother's shawl, still draped across her hands. He had BETTER follow her. And he had better have a GOOD EXPLANATION ready to go, too. Because—because—!

How DARE he!

Her mind still reeling from the morning's revelations in the carriage ride, she could hardly even contain herself enough to keep from screaming. So, just in case it wasn't bad enough that Jack—Jack, who she THOUGHT was her friend—had apparently been taking so many completely inappropriate liberties with her while never actually making his long-term intentions clear, he was now PURPOSELY BULLYING the man who actually WAS? Because of the ice powers, he somehow thought she was—was his property, or something? AURGH!

The Snow Queen could hardly even see her own surroundings as she swept down the hall, servants and visitors alike moving out of her way even as she acknowledged them. Snowflakes falling around her—and around her invisible companion; she could tell that he was following close behind—she could hardly see anything at all. All she could see was red.

CONCEAL!

Up the stairs, down a hall, another flight of stairs, and another hall. Standing outside of her bedroom door, Elsa barely even pulled her hand out from the shawl to push down on the handle, shoving the door open before sticking her hand back underneath the familiar fabric for comfort. Jack followed her in.

Ca-CHUNK. The door closed.

And they were alone.

In silence, Elsa paced into the room, stopping just short of her dresser. Her teeth clicking together—snow still falling around her, now growing cold enough to begin sticking to the carpet—she turned to face him.

Glaring daggers, Elsa drew herself up.

"Well!" the queen gritted. "Care to explain?"

She raised her eyebrows in threat.

Wincing, Jack stuck his hand into his hair. He sucked in a breath.

"I wasn't trying to hurt him," he stammered, shoving his fingers back and rubbing his neck. "I didn't think he'd—it wasn't even that much ice, and—"

"—Wasn't even that MUCH?"

"Look," Jack scoffed, growing defensive as he looked up, "If Prince-Boy can't handle a little—"

"—He is my GUEST!" Elsa exclaimed, sweeping her hand out from the shawl to point at the door, "And I will not have you—BULLYING him, while he's staying here in the castle! And especially when I'M here, just trying to—!"

Elsa stopped talking as she realized that Jack had gone still as a statue, his muscles frozen, eyes glued to her hand. In confusion, she glanced over to it as well, and then jolted.

She had neglected to take off her gloves.

Panic shot through her, an electrical tension gripping her spine. In silence, Jack Frost crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well!" he huffed, his eyes narrowing. "Looks like I'm not the only one with some explaining to do."

Her face pale, Elsa tossed the shawl over her arm and frantically yanked off the glove. Gripping it as she then pulled off the other, the Snow Queen bundled them together, shrinking away from him.

"It's not a big deal," she stammered.

His arms crossed over his chest, the 319-yr-old Guardian simply stared, everything about him eerily still except for the lava-hot fury burning in his eyes.

Clutching her gloves, Elsa sucked in a breath. "It's only temporary, Jack," she added desperately, "And I only wear them when I'm around him. It's not a big deal."

Jack didn't move, his piercing blue eyes practically searing into hers as he glared.

"It's not!" she blurted again.

The Spirit of Winter raised his eyebrows.

"Isn't it," he hissed.

Under the intensity of his glare, Elsa felt herself wince, looking down to where she was still clutching her gloves. She hated them. She hated them so much, and yet, those old feelings of the protectiveness of their wool were all swirling inside her with a growing ferocity. She had to wear them. She had to conceal, just for a little bit, and—

"See? This is what I mean," Jack gritted, yanking her back into reality as she jerked her head up. "I showed him a little ice, Elsa. ICE. So, the guy gets a little taste of what he's getting himself into, and his response is, Oh! I have an idea! Let's make her wear GLOVES!" Jack barked a sharp, bitter laugh. "And you don't see that as a PROBLEM?!"

Elsa blushed. "He isn't making me!"

"Fine. Encouraging you."

"I—"

"—Which I think is worse," Jack uncrossed his arms and gestured with his staff, "'Cause now he's pressuring you into it, while also putting on this big SHOW of how it's 'your' choice. When it's OBVIOUSLY NOT, ELSA."

Her mind spinning, the Fifth Spirit looked down at the gloves once again. Scoffing to herself, she then turned away from him and quickly walked over to her dresser. "I just didn't want him to feel uncomfortable," she protested weakly.

Yanking the drawer out, Elsa dropped the gloves and shawl inside, then quickly spinning around and pushing it shut. Seeing Jack's expression, her heart was now pounding so hard that it was hardly possible for her to hear anything else. She didn't like it when he was upset, but she had to do what was best for Arendelle. Arendelle! That was all this was about! She had to be fair to her people!

Why couldn't he UNDERSTAND that!?

Leaning back against the dresser and gripping the lip of the wood with her hands, Elsa stared at the ground. In her peripheral vision, she could sense that the Spirit of Winter was still standing completely still, the furious intensity in his eyes practically boring holes in her skull.

"Uncomfortable," he repeated glassily.

"Yes. Uncomfortable," Elsa retorted, gathering the courage to return his glare with one of her own. "Sometimes life is, Jack."

He scoffed. "Just because Prince-Boy can't handle the EXISTENCE of people like us—"

"—Us!? This is about 'us,' now?"

Jack stopped talking, his eyes wide.

After a few moments—like he was gathering his senses—Elsa watched as the Youngest Guardian pulled himself up. His chin lifting slightly, he forced a shrug.

"Well?" he challenged. "Why not?"

He whipped the staff back onto his shoulder, sticking his free hand into his pocket. Elsa's eyebrows lifted as well.

"Why not?" she breathed.

"I thought we were an alliance, Elsa," Jack snapped. "Don't you think that means something?"

"What, that we're BETTER than him?"

"That we protect each other," Jack enunciated, shifting on his feet with a shake of his head, "And I'm not going to just stand here and be useless while he's HURTING you! I am so sick and tired of watching this guy HURT YOU!"

Elsa's mouth fell open. "He's hurting me!?" she balked.

"He's just using you!" Jack cried, "He doesn't even APPRECIATE how special you are, Elsa! He's just—using you, for his stupid POLITICS! For your TITLE!"

Stunned, Elsa watched in disbelief as Jack turned away, anxiously shoving his fingers into his hair as a fresh round of snowflakes began to materialize out of the air around his body. Why was he the one freaking out? When she was the one whose life was on the line, and she was the one with the responsibilities, and SHE was the one getting—getting played with, like a toy, and—AND—!

Elsa's eyes narrowed.

Un.

Be.

LIEVABLE.

She stretched out her fingers, feeling the temperature dropping around them. Her hands balling into fists, Elsa pulled in her breath.

"There are worse things," she whispered shakily, "To be used for."

Jack scoffed, gesturing with the staff. "Well, I don't think you should be okay with the idea of a guy 'using' you at all."

Elsa's eyes bulged. After a few long, dumbfounded moments, she gave her childhood hero a slow and deliberate blink.

"I'm not," she enunciated.

"So let me get rid of him!"

Rolling her eyes, the Snow Queen scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "You have remarkably high standards, for this other guy," she snapped.

"Uh, because I think you deserve better?"

"What have you got against him, anyway?"

"That maybe that you should be with someone who appreciates you?" Jack snapped, the wind beginning to pick up a bit around his feet, "Maybe somebody who doesn't want you to wear gloves!?"

"He isn't making me!" Elsa exclaimed, throwing her hand to the side as her own wind started up, "And if we're talking about who's acting appreciative—"

"—I show him a little bit of ice, and he decides that the SNOW QUEEN should stop producing snow?!"

Her cheeks heated. Hardly believing what she was hearing, Elsa scoffed again in frustration and turned away, pacing towards her art gallery. Jack jumped to follow.

"This is what I mean, Elsa!" he pressed, right behind her as she passed through the doorway, "Every time you've been with this guy, you come back looking miserable! I hate seeing miserable!"

CONCEAL!

"And you are miserable with him!" Jack continued, his voice breaking with increasing desperation as he ran after her, "Elsa, you HAVE to let me get rid of guy! You can't BE with this guy!"

Throwing her fists down in fury, Elsa whirled to face him. "ISN'T THAT MY DECISION!?"

Everything stopped.

The snowflakes paused. The wind died. Jack froze, his mouth hanging open in shock as Queen Elsa glared directly into his eyes, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to keep from screaming.

Snapping his mouth shut—presumably to hold back the next thing he was going to say—the Spirit of Winter then blushed furiously, his cheeks and ears bright red. Snowflakes silently starting to fall out of the air around him again, Jack visibly shrank, biting his fist and turning away.

The Fifth Spirit's blood boiled anew.

OH, no, you DON'T!

"Taking away my ability to make my own decisions isn't caring about me, Jack. That's caring about you," Elsa hissed, struggling to keep her voice even as her eyes stung, "And, I WILL do what's best for Arendelle. I'm not completely sure what that is yet, but Prince Frederik might very well be it. So I don't know what you're after, but you don't get to claim that this is about 'HELPING' me, when you're going behind my back and pulling stunts like that."

Jack didn't respond, still turned away from her. Her heart pounding, the Snow Queen pulled in another breath.

"Our Ice Alliance is important to me. Really," she continued, crossing her arms over her chest and huddling into them as she felt her furious resolve beginning to crumble. "But if you want to be in an alliance with me, then congratulations, you're in an alliance with Arendelle, too. Which requires you to CARE about its future, as well as mine."

"You're right."

Elsa's eyebrows lifted in surprise. Letting out his breath, Jack Frost shook his head.

"No, I—you're right," he choked softly, turning back to face her. Gulping, he pushed his fingers through his hair, then rubbing the back of his neck while he sheepishly looked up into her eyes. "I know."

She said nothing, staring at him and waiting. He looked down at his feet again.

"I wasn't trying to—take away your—choices," he mumbled, "I wasn't even thinking that it—I shouldn't have been messing with him behind your back."

The Snow Queen's shoulders started to relax. Fighting it, she scoffed. "You shouldn't have been messing with him at all," she said icily.

"Debatable."

"How is that—"

"—He needs to be okay with ice, Elsa," Jack snapped, holding up his finger as Elsa opened her mouth to protest, "And no, I'm not saying that he needs to have ice powers. I'm just saying that he needs to be okay with the fact that you have them."

She uncrossed her arms, placing her hands on her hips.

"Icing the floor?" she demanded coldly.

He froze, the side of his mouth twitching. Like he was fighting a smile, Jack Frost then gave his head a vigorous shake, coughing and clearing his throat.

"Probably a bit excessive," he admitted.

Jack coughed again, trying to hide the mirth in his eyes. Meanwhile, Elsa felt her hands starting to clench into fists. Her teeth clicked together.

"Are you serious?" she hissed.

The Guardian's smile faded.

"Jack," Elsa said, at the same deathly-quiet volume. "You had no right."

"It was funny before he got hurt."

"Funny?"

"When the JERK who's trying to make the Snow Queen stop being a Snow Queen has a hilarious expression while he's slipping on ice, then yeah," he huffed. "Maybe I think that is kinda funny. As I said, I didn't think he'd—"

Noticing Elsa's thunderous expression, Jack's voice trailed off. Blushing, he winced and fell quiet, looking down to his feet.

"I know that your decisions are yours, Elsa," Jack sighed. "But I don't have to agree with them."

To this, Elsa shrugged. "I wouldn't expect you to," she said.

"I don't think this guy is good for you."

"You've made that clear."

"I'm worried about you."

The intense sincerity in his eyes caught her off-guard, making Elsa's world tilt on its axis. The insecurity bubbling up inside of her, threatening to crack her resolve, she then crossed her arms over her chest again, pulling in a shaky breath.

"And you might not be wrong to be," Elsa admitted softly. "But I would really appreciate it if you would start respecting me a bit more, Jack."

"I do respect you," he responded. "If I didn't respect you, I wouldn't care."

"Then please respect me enough to trust that I can make my own decisions about my own life."

Jack shrank again, pulling the staff down like he wanted to hide behind it. Staring at his feet, he swallowed.

"I'm sorry."

Standing in front of him, Elsa could see the shame and embarrassment in his expression. She let out her breath.

"Thank you," she said.

He nodded. Awkwardly kicking at the carpet, Jack leaned his head against the staff while Elsa fidgeted with her fingers in the silence.

"So, you'll stop pranking Prince Frederik?"

He stiffened, gripping the shepherd's crook. After a few moments, he sighed.

"Yeah," he mumbled reluctantly. "I'll stop."

Elsa stared at him for another long moment. Just as she was opening her mouth to speak, he snapped his head up.

"But only because it means so much to you," Jack added quickly. "And if we're going to stand here and make demands, I'd like it if you'd stop coddling him with this."

A wave of confusion swept over Elsa's face. "Coddling him?"

"You have ice powers." He pulled himself up on the staff, standing tall again. "He HAS to see that."

"He does."

"That's not what I mean. I—"

Jack Frost spun the staff between his fingers, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pulled in his breath, then releasing it with a sigh.

"We're not monsters, Snowflake." Jack shook his head. "We're not—defective humans. We're just—different. And we deserve to exist, too. Even if we're—something else."

He hesitantly opened his eyes again to meet her gaze. Her heart skipped a beat, and Elsa bit her lip.

"Sexy Humanoid Ice Powers Things?" she asked shyly.

A hint of a grin tugged at the edge of his mouth. "Well, I wasn't going to say it."

To this, the Fifth Spirit smiled in spite of herself as well, the somehow familiar feeling of peace and reassurance melting through her. Pulling in her breath, she raised her eyebrows. "So… the gloves?"

Jack's smile dropped again.

"You're asking me to stop 'coddling' him," Elsa tried again, "Are you talking about my gloves?"

"Well—yeah," Jack admitted reluctantly, "Because he shouldn't—look, will you just stop wearing those? You can't tell me that you're okay with the gloves; you have TOLD me how much you hate the gloves."

Elsa looked down to her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. Beyond them, in her peripheral vision, she could see her skirt—ice, yes, but the toned-down gray fabric that she had intentionally designed to look like wool.

It was a fair point.

"I'll stop wearing the gloves," she promised.

He visibly relaxed. "Okay. Um—good." Jack stuck his free hand into his front pocket, nodding. "Good."

Elsa didn't respond, staring at the ground. Twisting her high heel in the carpet, she nodded as well, the snowflakes fading from the air as they stood for a moment in calm.

"I really do respect you, Snowflake," Jack said softly, gazing into her eyes as he took a step towards her. "I mean—you're really smart, and sweet, and—you're just really important to me."

Her breath catching, Elsa took a moment to emotionally steady herself.

"You're—really important—to me. Too," she admitted softly.

He bit the edge of his lip, a hesitant smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. "Uh—good," he said, taking another step towards her, "That's—great. So we're good again now?"

Elsa nodded. "Yes. I think so," she said, "I think it was a good thing for us t—!"

She jerked away as he reached for her, recoiling from what Jack had apparently intended to be an embrace. His arms still out as she shied back from him, Jack snapped his head up in confusion.

"Wait—what?" he choked, eyes bulging, "What is it? What'd I do?"

Elsa blushed, folding her arms tightly across her chest. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that—"

"—About what?"

"About whether… um…"

She glanced away, her voice trailing off. Gathering her courage, she sucked in her breath.

"I—I just not sure if we should—um," she stammered, her voice hardly more than a whisper, "If we should be touching each other so much."

Jack's face went pale.

Elsa watched as he stumbled back a step in horror. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Shaking his head, he tried again.

"Elsa—I—!" Jack squeaked helplessly, "Why—why didn't you—I had no idea you felt that way."

"Jack, it's not—"

"—I would've stopped! I—I mean, if you didn't—I thought you kind of—"

Elsa pressed her lips together, waiting. His pale skin beginning to turn pink again, the Youngest Guardian swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Liked—it," Jack whimpered.

The Spirit of Winter looked like he was about ready to burst into tears in humiliation. Blushing furiously as well, Elsa's face was pained.

She gave her head a tiny shake, pulling her hands into her stomach. "I did!" she blurted, "I—it's just—!"

She stopped abruptly. Feeling his gaze on her, she then pulled in a deep breath, struggling to keep her voice even.

"It's not—proper," Elsa choked.

A wave of confusion swept over Jack's face.

"Proper?" he sputtered.

"Well, if I'm going to be courting Prince Frederik, I—"

Jack jolted.

"Wait—no," Elsa stammered, her heart jumping into her throat, "Jack—I didn't mean it like—"

"—No, I—I get it."

He looked down to his feet, gripping the shepherd's crook and kicking at the carpet. Clearing his throat, Jack nodded.

"Prince Frederik," he choked.

Snowflakes were falling around them both, sparkling and glistening as they appeared out of the tense, frozen air.

"After all of this, after—everything," Jack stammered. "Still Prince Frederik."

Elsa could only hear the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, opening her mouth uselessly as she struggled to come up with a response. Gathering her courage again, she—

"You know, I've been wondering lately if we should take a break," Jack said suddenly, the words coming out in a rush as he backed away a step, "Just—to think things over. And stuff. Reevaluate."

Elsa's eyes widened.

"Reevaluate?" she squeaked.

Jack nodded, pulling down his staff and turning away. A moment later, he then raised the staff towards the end of the art gallery, and snapped it back.

BANG!

The balcony doors crashed open, a fierce December wind rushing through them into the room. Sighing, Jack let the staff fall back onto his shoulder.

As her childhood hero walked towards the balcony doors, Elsa felt her face go pale. Panic gripping her, she jolted, picking up the edge of her skirt and running after him.

"Jack," she stammered, "It's—that's not what I meant. I—I just—!"

She caught his wrist, and he stopped. Her heart pounding, Elsa's voice trailed off as she watched him slowly turn around to face her.

Without meeting her gaze, Jack Frost stared for a moment at her hand, and where it was clutched around his wrist. Neither one of them spoke, the only sound the rushing of the wind sweeping in from the open balcony doors, ruffling Jack's hair and pulling at Elsa's skirt and blowing their snowflakes around them in a whirl.

As Elsa watched in horror, he then reached his other hand across, carefully pulling her fingers back off of his wrist and forcing her to release him. Clasping her hand tightly, he then gently—but firmly—pushed her away.

Her breath stopping, Elsa snapped her head up to look into his face. As their eyes met, she realized that Jack's were shining with tears.

"Message. Received," he choked. "Loud and clear, Elsa."

Before she had the chance to protest further, the Spirit of Winter leapt into the air, shooting out through the balcony doors and disappearing into the gray December sky beyond. With a gasp, Elsa ran out after him, slamming into the wooden balcony rail. Gripping it, she stared helplessly after him, feeling like her heart had been ripped from her chest.

Jack Frost was wonderful. And brilliant. And fun. And everything she'd ever dreamed.

And gone.