AUTHOR'S NOTE: First off, I am way sorry that that took so long! Thank you, as usual, for tolerating me. Here's the thing: This chapter originally was made up of three sections, all under the title of "Somebody's Gotta Tell Her" (Frozen reference!), which was artsy-fartsy because it meant something different in every section. However, because I'm getting impatient, and JUST WANT TO POST ALREADY… here's the first section, released as its own chapter (it's the longest, anyway). I was trying really hard for the artsy-fartsy-ness, and because I still apparently can't resist it, I've decided on the following: We are about to have three chapters, all in a row, that are ALL named "Somebody's Gotta Tell Her," because it still means something different each time and is still ARTSY-FARTSY! Just be aware! (Also, the next two chapters to post are near Final Draft, so… well, there's THAT.) This ALSO means that—for anyone who's gotten the quasi-spoiler—the number of chapters left until [Specified Time Redacted] should be shifted accordingly, as what was ORIGINALLY going to be chapter 84 is now becoming chapters 84, 85, and 86.

Anyway, thanks SO MUCH again for reading, an ENORMOUS thank you to everybody who's reviewed (you guys have NO IDEA how much I've needed some of those encouraging reviews as of late), and I hope you have a FANTABULOUS DAY! :D

DISCORD: To respond to Guest Reviewer K, please just contact me at iceallianceauthorperson at gmail, and I'll be able to send you the link. The same goes for anybody else who wants it! For anyone who's interested in potentially joining the Jelsa Haven discord, I'm not going to pretend that everything has always been perfect (WELCOME TO THE INTERNET), but I think that I've really enjoyed my overall experience thus far. I really hope that the moderators/administrators continue to work hard at making and keeping it a safe place for truly everyone to be. :)

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84: SOMEBODY'S GOTTA TELL HER

"And then he flew off upset," Elsa choked, feeling the sting of the confession in her eyes as she rushed through the end of the explanation, "And I'm not sure what to do. I can't stand the thought of losing him, but I have to put Arendelle first. Even if it means marrying someone who doesn't necessarily—value—the things I can do."

She swallowed hard, biting on her lip. Sitting in the ice chair opposite hers, the Sandman tented his fingers, pressing them to his lips with his eyebrows pinched together in thought.

About twenty minutes and three and a half pitchers of eggnog later, she and the Guardian of Dreams were still sitting together at her ice table, having (finally) gotten to the subject of Jack Frost. She had gotten to know Abdullah a bit—and yes, figuring out what he was saying did take time and effort—but was still a bit shocked to find out that someone so incredibly powerful was completely unable to speak, or even make noise. And with everything he apparently knew about absolutely everyone, the poor little man was bursting.

It was almost more shocking to her than the reality of the fact that she was sitting in her icy art gallery, casually serving copious amounts of eggnog while confessing the details a falling-out with her apparently-real childhood fantasy to The SANDMAN.

Still considering her story, Abdullah downed the last of his drink.

"It's just—I still don't think it was okay that he was bullying Frederik," she said, "I don't. And I can't stand the thought of losing Jack, but I have to put Arendelle first. But with the idea of marrying Frederik—the more I get to know him, the more I do feel like this might be a bad idea. All in all, I'm starting to wonder—if Jack is right?"

Abdullah nodded—not necessarily in agreement, but to make it clear that he was listening. He then held out his cup, and Elsa reached for the pitcher, politely filling it again with the last of the quart. Goodness, had she guessed right about the eggnog.

"I'll go ring for some more," she said.

He nodded in thanks as she rose, picking up the empty pitcher. Quickly pacing across her bedroom, ice cape flowing behind her across the carpet, Elsa reached for the thick bell rope, pulling it down and releasing it.

Brrring!

She could hear it ring in the distance, the sound traveling through the hole around the rope. Just as she was starting to walk back towards her gallery a few moments later, there was a knock as the door.

Fully aware of how this would look, Elsa drew herself up, attempting to appear as regal and in control as she could

Queen Face.

"I shall be requiring another pitcher of eggnog," she stated, presenting the empty one.

The maid's eyes widened as she took it. "Another? Your highness?"

"Please. Yes."

Frozen in her place, the maid suddenly looked very concerned—if not in the midst of a mild internal panic over whether or not there were a way politely ask the Acting Queen of Arendelle if she had gone insane.

Elsa's cheeks heated.

"I'm not drinking it," she added quickly, her regal expression beginning to crack. "It's—for—something else."

"Oh!" the maid exclaimed, then blushing herself at her own emotional transparency. "Um, yes. Your majesty. I'll fetch more right away."

"Thank you, Jenni."

The maid gave a quick little bow of her head, then turning away and scurrying down the corridor. Elsa let out her breath, pushing the door shut behind her.

Ca-CHUNK.

She paused, her eyes squeezed shut. After a moment, the Snow Queen then drew herself up, sweeping back to her art gallery and passing through the open door to the icy table set.

"Even though I'm no longer the queen—well, usually," Elsa started again, smoothing her skirt and sitting down again, "As I'm usually in the Forest, I still need to do what's best for Arendelle. But how can I really move forward together with Prince Frederik on my goals, if your partner doesn't basically have the same ones? Can I really trust someone who doesn't even understand me with the potential future of my entire kingdom?"

The Guardian nodded, thoughtfully taking another long drink of eggnog.

"In a lot of ways… I think Jack does understand me," Elsa continued. "When we're on the same page, I think we can work together quite well, and—well, we do have quite a bit in common. We have a lot of the same interests, and we seem to really value the same things, and have very similar views on a lot of life. Not that he's ever shied away from a respectful debate, which is another thing I really respect. I don't want him to just agree with me on everything; that would mean he didn't have a mind of his own. And Jack DOES. Not to mention, how good he is with ice. Even without taking intimacy into account, the 'same species' thing IS significant. I—"

Abdullah's head snapped up, and he waved his hand frantically, trying to catch her attention. Elsa stopped talking, and the Sandman leaned forward, placing his cup of eggnog onto the table and gesturing with his palm facing down.

Jack Frost profile. Speech bubble?

He pointed to her, his brow furrowing. His golden eyes were narrowed as he studied her face, giving the impression that he wasn't sure if he had heard her correctly.

"Well—yes," Elsa admitted. "Jack has said that to me. Actually, he's brought up intimacy a great number of times. I—"

She jolted as Abdullah suddenly leapt from his chair and threw his hands up in frustration, a hundred pictures appearing and disintegrating all at once in a tiny storm of golden sand thrashing over his head.

Dancing? Roses? Hearts? EXPLOSION! TRASH CAN, JACK FROST, COUPLE CROSSED OUT, BED. DREAM-CLOUDS EXPLODING. DERPY JACK FACE.

Elsa startled back, her eyes bulging as more and more sandy images formed and ripped themselves apart over his head, the Guardian of Dreams angrily moving back and forth in the air before her, frantically gesturing. Finally he stopped, turning towards her and glaring at the floor.

MUSHROOM.

SHAPED.

CLOUD.

And Abdullah slapped his hand to his forehead.

Whap.

Queen Elsa was frozen in her seat.

Blinking, she opening her mouth and closing it again, she pulled in her breath.

"I know it was—inappropriate," she choked, "But I don't think he meant any harm. I—"

The Sandman dramatically dragged his hand halfway down his face, pulling at the skin under one single eye to glare at her as he went.

"He did have a point."

Puff!

A tiny, golden Jack Frost materialized in the air between them. Without moving his hand from his face, Abdullah then flicked his other one to the side, sending the sand-Jack sailing over the the corner. The image hovered for a moment before turning around.

"It wasn't that bad," Elsa choked, restraining from a smile.

From where the sand-Jack was still floating in the corner, a golden dunce cap materialized over its head.

Elsa let out a sharp laugh of shock at the image, clapping her hand over her mouth. Looking back to the Sandman, she could see that Abdullah now looked rather pleased with himself, although still bitter at Jack's… lack of decorum.

Jack Frost was many things, but a prim and polished gentleman was not one of them.

Knock knock!

"Oh!" Elsa realized, hearing the sound from her bedroom, "Please excuse me."

Rising from her chair, she hurried off to her bedroom door, greeting the maid again and accepting a fresh pitcher of eggnog. With a quick thank you exchanged, the Acting Queen of Arendelle was once again quickly shutting the door, whirling away and rushing back to return to her secret, ancient guest.

Coming back into the art gallery and taking a moment to settle herself, she slowed to a normal step, walking up to the table. Placing the new pitcher down, Elsa let out her breath as she took a seat, her long capelet spread around her on the floor. A fraction of a moment later, she realized that Abdullah was once again holding out his cup, and she jumped slightly, restraining from a laugh as she picked up the pitcher again.

The other Guardians could deal with his eggnog intervention. Queen Elsa, however, would for now be gleefully enabling the Sandman with Arendelle's finest.

"Honestly, it wasn't entirely unsolicited," she admitted with an uncomfortable laugh, "Don't give Jack too much of a hard time. I'm the one who kissed him, when we first met."

Abdullah's eyes widened.

"I thought I was dreaming."

He twirled his pointer finger in the air, a tiny stream of unformed, shimmering dreamsand trailing after it.

Ah… dreaming, his expression seemed to say as he shrugged. Understandable.

"And it's not that I don't want to sleep with him," she continued, tripping over her words, "Because I honestly find Jack to be—um—to be extremely attractive. It's just…"

Halfway through his drink, the Sandman paused. Pulling his cup down, he peered over its rim, eyebrows lifted.

"I don't know if I'm just being idealistic. Because I—well, in fact, I think the YOU of all people would understand. I keep dreaming of him."

His eyebrows lifted even further. A slow smile started to spread over his face.

"And dreams are so important. I know I've been spending a lot of time with him, but that doesn't seem to justify how much I've been dreaming about him," Elsa continued, "Which has me wondering if I'm going crazy, honestly. Or if it's some sort of sign? If my mind is telling me to—"

She cut herself off as Abdullah held up his hand. A moment later—shaking his head, his brow furrowed in frustration once again with the smile gone—he gestured to himself.

"You?"

The Sandman nodded passionately.

"You've been giving me the dreams?" Elsa exclaimed, "I—they were so romantic! Are you saying that you designed all of my—!"

Roses? Dancing figures? Hearts? He silently scoffed, rolling his eyes and then gesturing to her in disbelief, JACK FROST? Brain, JACK FROST?!

"Well, of course I didn't think Jack was doing it," Elsa stammered, blushing furiously, "I didn't think anyone was really doing it! I just thought they'd sort of—"

FWOOM!

Elsa gasped as Abdullah leapt into the air once again, throwing his golden hands towards the ceiling in an explosion of light. Sparkling dreamsand blasted from him in all directions, spiraling, soaring, and swelling into mountains and snowflakes and trees all around them. The entire room aglow, Elsa shot to her feet, her mouth hanging open as the scene grew, an ice castle of sand bursting out of the moutainside's trees before her.

And it expanded. Just like in a dream, it expanded, until the castle engulfed the entire room, chasing all the darkness away. As the shadows fled, two distinct, golden figures became visible, dancing through the sparkling, glowing ballroom in the silence.

The first one was of Jack.

And the second was of her.

These were her dreams. The nighttime fantasies, of dancing and candlelight and snow… they hadn't been figments of her overactive imagination at all.

Her eyes wide with awe, the Fifth Spirit slowly turned back around, looking to the little golden man hovering before her in the air.

"You've been coming back here every night?" she breathed.

The Sandman nodded.

Nonchalantly waving his hand in the air, Abdullah dismissed the dream, the exquisite glow of the room fading as the sand disintegrated into the air. Floating back down into his icy seat, he then picked up his cup of eggnog to resume enjoying his drink.

"I—I didn't think you came back to the same place that frequently," Elsa realized, her voice then falling quiet, "Why—would you do that?"

Abdullah's eyebrows lifted, and he shrugged. An image of Jack Frost pffed into the air between them. Then, an image of himself as an angel—with wings, but no halo—materialized over it, and he pointed to it.

He then pointed to himself, and nodded.

"You're—Jack's guardian angel?"

He started to shake his head, and then paused. Giving a nodding shrug, Abdullah then shook his head.

Kind of, the motion seemed to say. But that's not what I meant.

"Jack—is being helped from above?" Elsa tried again desperately, "Jack needs a miracle? Jack—"

WHAM! The Sandman slammed his cup of eggnog onto the ice table and clapped his hand over his eyes, rocking onto his back with a silent guffaw in the air. Shaking his head as he started to float back up—and then stopping, to laugh hysterically and then nod—and then shake his head again, he eventually righted himself, still grinning like he was trying not to snort.

Wing. Man, he tried again, two separate and distinct images swirling into the air. He pointed to each of them in turn, gesturing for Elsa to say them.

"Wing… man?"

He nodded excitedly, then pointing to himself.

Elsa's heart sank.

"A wing man, but not an angel?" she asked, "But… why would you need wings? If you can fly, you… you don't…?"

He shook his head, looking confused as Elsa's voice trailed off. Floating a few inches towards her, Abdullah scrutinized her expression, then gesturing.

Question mark? Abdullah asked. Wing, man? Question mark? He pointed to her, shaking his head, Ear?

She bit her lip.

"No, I—I haven't heard of a Wing Man before," Elsa admitted, blushing a bit, "I'm sorry. I—don't know what that means."

He mouthed a silent oh, floating back in the air with understanding and motioning to the dreamsand to disintegrate. Sitting back down into her seat, Elsa picked up her cup.

"Well—I think you're being an angel for doing this," she muttered, staring into her eggnog for a long moment before hesitantly looking up at him again. "For what it's worth."

The Sandman's eyes widened slightly, taken aback. Then—shrugging—his face broke into a grin, and he nodded. Floating back over to the table, he then picked up his own cup, holding it aloft.

She raised her glass in response, giving him a nod back.

After chugging the rest of her eggnog in embarrassment, Elsa coughed, shaking herself. She whipped her hand to the side, flicking an icy napkin into existence.

"I still don't understand, though," she admittedly, dabbing at her mouth with it, "Why would you do that for me? I mean—thank you—the dreams have been absolutely lovely. Really! But that's so much time to spend on one person."

Abdullah looked up. Without putting his cup down, he then flicked his hand into the air, taking a drink as he did so.

Poof! An image of Jack reappeared, with a number of faceless, tiny people of sand. The people shifted away from him, leaving the golden sand-Jack alone, and the Sandman pointed, lifting his eyebrows and then reaching forward to place his cup onto the table and create another image.

Abdullah swept his hand out, a sandy hourglass materializing over his palm. Reaching towards its top and bottom, he then slowly began to stretch it, pulling in both directions and making it longer and longer in the air.

"A long time," Elsa realized. "Jack has been alone for a long time."

Abdullah nodded. The images puffed out of existence, leaving a figurative blank slate in the air.

Anna and Elsa.

He pointed, then shrugging and crossing through the image.

Male gender symbol. Jack. Abdullah.

"Um—Queens and Kings? Teamwork? Are you saying tha—"

He frantically shook his head, waving his hands back and forth over each other and pffing the Anna and Elsa out of existence. Leaving the sand-Jack and sand-Abdullah in the air, he then gestured forward, starting to create another image.

Man outline. Woman outline. Small man outline, small man outline, small woman outline, small—

"A family."

He stopped swirling the sand-images and turned to her with a nod. Reaching out with his pointer finger, Elsa watched as the Sandman drew a careful circle around the two adjacent smaller man outlines in the air. Flicking his hand back, he sent the stream of golden sand shooting up towards the Jack and Abdullah silhouettes, splitting in half and twisting into two arrows, pointing to each one.

Family… two small men… Jack and…!

"You're brothers," Queen Elsa realized, her eyes widening a bit. "You see Jack as being your brother."

Abdullah nodded again, pulling his hands together as if he were praying. Two more images puffed into existence over his head.

Jack Frost. Smiley face.

He pointed to each image in turn, nodding with meaning. With one hand, he touched his chest.

"He is your brother—and you want your brother to be happy," Elsa said softly, her voice shaking a bit as her face melted into a smile.

The Guardian of Dreams placed both hands over his heart and nodded more deeply, now smiling as well. Seeing the sincerity in his golden eyes, Elsa's heart swelled. Jack was a lucky man, to have such a wonderful friend.

But that wasn't all.

Avoiding the question, Elsa looked to her cup, shifting it in her hands. Gathering her courage, she hesitantly looked up.

"You think that I could make Jack—happy?"

Abdullah's eyebrows lifted in surprise. After a moment, he then placed his little hands onto his hips, leaning forward to meaningfully gaze into her eyes with a smirk and a cocked eyebrow. No additional golden imagery appeared over his head, but the meaning of this particular expression needed to additional explanation.

Oh, sweetie.

Elsa's breath caught.

Looking back down to her cup of eggnog to break eye contact, she felt her heart start pounding, the rush of the ancient Guardian's extreme compliment—at least, to her, it was an extreme compliment—making her want to squeal with joy. She'd certainly fantasized about this, but for Jack Frost's best friend to actually confirm her hopes to her, from an outsider's perspective…!

She could make the Spirit of Winter… happy?

"You really think so?" she squeaked.

He smiled, nodding. Elsa looked back up as Abdullah once again rolled his hands in the air, images bursting into existence with soft pffs over his head.

Brain. Heart. Snowflake.

He paused, looking to her. Glancing down to her dress for a brief moment—and then looking back up to her eyes—he shrugged.

Hourglass, he added, the fourth image swirling into the air as an afterthought.

As an outline of a swooning Jack Frost appeared from the sand, Elsa laughed, blushing as Abdullah gave her a good-natured smile. The sand-Jack fell onto his knees, silently clapping his hands over his chest with little golden hearts bursting out into the air around him. The Winter Spirit's friend wasn't harassing her; the hourglass was just a fact. Well—maybe not a perfect hourglass, if she was really being honest about her proportions, but she DID certainly have hips. And Jack, apparently, was into this.

Elsa beamed in spite of herself, unable to look away from the image of Jack. Along with the hourglass and the snowflake, the Sandman had also shown her a heart and a brain, which she could only interpret to mean that he found her to be loving and intelligent. And he thought that Jack saw her this way, too? That perhaps—if he did have actual, serious interest in her—it wasn't just because of her ice powers, or heaven forbid her body, but because he might love… her?

Smiling uncontrollably, she hardly even noticed that Abdullah was waving in her peripheral vision, trying to get her attention. Jolting, she looked down to him.

"I'm sorry," Elsa stammered, shaking herself, "I just—please go on."

He nodded in a quick acceptance of her apology, then beginning to swirl his tiny hands in the air once again.

Jack Frost. He pointed at her. Smiley face… question mark?

He raised his eyebrows in the inquiry.

"Oh, he definitely makes me happy," Elsa said, beginning to gush, "Jack is amazing. He's brilliant, and creative, and fun, and kind, and—and he makes me feel like things are going to be okay. Like everything will be. I love being with him, and talking with him. I feel like I can tell him anything. I just…!"

Her voice trailed off. Her face falling, the Fifth Spirit dropped her gaze to the carpet. In her peripheral vision, the Sandman looked confused.

You just WHAT?

Gathering her courage, Elsa pulled in a breath.

"I feel like he keeps dangling the possibility of a real, long-term relationship in front of me—and then yanking it away," she stammered, her voice breaking as she shook her head, "I want him so badly, and I—I don't want to demand that he change who he is, or question his honesty about it, but I can't take the risk of potentially just ending up as Jack Frost's five hundredth two-week fling. I can't. I can't do it, and—"

Through the blurring in her eyes, Elsa saw that the Sandman had leapt from his seat again, frantically waving his hands back and forth in front of him again and shaking his head as all the images disintegrated from the air. He quickly reconjured the earlier images of the people—the family—together, like they were about to embrace, and then swirled an outline of a tiny house next to them. He pointed to each in turn, and then reached his arm to the side, pointing at the tiny sand-Jack that was still floating over in the corner from the beginning of the conversation.

"Jack wants—a family?"

He pointed at the house outline again, staring at her and rolling his opposite hand in the air to gesture that she continue.

"A home," Elsa finished. "Jack Frost wants a home and a family."

Abdullah placed his hands together in front of his chest once again, giving her a slow and deliberate nod.

The sand-Jack in the corner turned, silently leaping into the air with his little golden staff and darting over to them, joining the image of the family. As Elsa watched, Abdullah floated up into the air around the image of the family, finally hovering next to the man and the woman symbols. He flicked his fingers over the image.

The faceless, golden couple melded into Elsa and Jack.

Elsa could feel her eyes start stinging, overwhelmed. The Sandman—the immortal sandman, AKA Jack Frost's oldest friend—was staring at her expectantly, his golden eyes as wise as they were ancient. This whole time, she had been thinking that Jack was just flirting with her, or trying to platonically give her confidence, or—or—!

She closed her eyes, her head spinning from the Sandman's revelations. Being with Jack. Marrying Jack. Those felt like fantasies, so impossible, and yet if JACK were really WANTING that sort of a future…!

If she could have it…?

"I HAVE TO TALK TO HIM!"

She leapt from her chair and Abdullah jolted, reeling back in the air at her sudden outburst.

Seeing it, the Fifth Spirit's cheeks heated. She cleared her throat, spinning back around towards the table. "I mean, I—I wanted to talk to Jack anyway," she laughed nervously, much softer as her hands flew to her cover her mouth, "But I—I was just wanting my friend back—I didn't—! You really think he…?"

The Guardian nodded, his eyes wide with disbelief at the fact that this was an actual revelation to her. Elsa swallowed hard, trying to mask her embarrassment.

"Have you seen him?" she asked, "Do you know where he is? Or where he might be?"

The Sandman started to shake his head, and then froze, a few golden grains of sand falling from his hair. His pointer finger in the air, he paused.

Jack Frost profile. Frowny face. Tear. Question mark?

He turned his palm upwards, gesturing towards her as he raised his eyebrows in question.

"Well—yes," Elsa said. "He was extremely upset when he left."

Abdullah thought for a few moments. Like he was being struck by inspiration, his eyes then lit up, his pointer finger in the air.

A golden, sandy globe puffed into existence between them, and the Sandman reached towards it, pointing towards the bottom.

"Antarctica?" Elsa asked quizzically. "Why would he go there?"

He shrugged, grimacing. A sandy dumbbell materialized in the air over his head.

Question mark?

Ah… a workout. Maybe. But he wasn't sure.

"Do you think he'll come back?"

To this, the Sandman's eyes widened. The grimace disappearing, he nodded, then pausing again.

Elsa outline, Jack outline, Elsa and Jack outlines separating. Desk calendar, days flipping past…? Sun, sun rising, setting, rising, setting…?

He looked to her in question.

"Oh—um, it was two days ago. About. Tomorrow will be three."

He put his little finger to his chin, looking thoughtful.

"Do you think you could get him to come back?" Elsa pleaded, "I mean—I don't know if I could convince him, but if you're his best friend, then maybe you could get him to—what?"

He was pointing to himself, raising his eyebrows in amusement. Abdullah then shook his head.

And he pointed at her.

Jack. Arendelle crocus, he nodded, pulling his two pointer fingers together and nodding. The sand-Jack shot towards the crocus, and Abdullah nodded again, smirking.

"You think Jack could be coming back already?" she gasped. "On his own?"

He nodded again. With one final gulp of eggnog, the Sandman then silently smacked his lips in satisfaction, heaving a sigh of contentment as he placed the cup back onto the table and floated into the air.

He pointed at Elsa.

Letters Zzz. Question mark?

He pointed to his wrist like he was wearing a watch, he then raised a single eyebrow. Elsa blushed a bit once again.

"Um… no. I haven't slept yet tonight," she admitted, "But it's not really that big a deal, if—"

Floating over to her in the air, the Sandman had already placed a hand on her shoulder, gently but firmly turning her in the direction of her bedroom and pointing. To this, Elsa laughed.

"You are very passionate about people getting enough sleep—aren't you?"

The Guardian of Dreams nodded, giving her a tiny shove to get her walking and escorting her as she passed into her room and towards her bed. Still completely dressed, Elsa slipped off her shoes as she reached it, pulling back to covers and getting in. It felt incredibly surreal, as a Queen, to simply obey a man ordering her to bed—surely, with any other being on the face of the planet, this would be the very definition of scandal.

But this was the Sandman.

Giving a curt nod of approval as Elsa pulled up the bedsheets, Abdullah floated a foot back in the air.

Letters Zzz. Dining menu. Question mark?

He raised his eyebrows.

"Wait," Elsa realized. "I—you're asking me what I want to dream about?"

He shrugged, a slight grin on the edge of his lips. Flicking his hands upwards, a series of images pffed into the air.

Jack Frost and Elsa? he guessed, Dancing, snowflakes? Candles? Ice palace?

Sliding down against her pillow, Elsa bit her lip. She fiddled with the edge of her bedspread for a long moment.

"Those things all sound lovely," she said softly, "But honestly… there's been so much drama recently that I'm… I'm not sure if I want to keep wallowing in it, right now. Not that I don't want to see him!" she added frantically, "I just… I can't do anything to try and make this right until he gets back, and that makes thinking about it kind of frustrating. Does that make sense?"

Abdullah nodded. After a moment of thought—his finger on his lips—

Lightbulb!

Floating a few inches towards her, he started swirling his hands between them, the lightbulb fading as another dream spiraled into existence.

Little Anna and Elsa, pffd into the air. Snowman. Laughing, playing. Making snow angels?

Elsa's heart melted. Smiling uncontrollably, she nodded.

"That's perfect," the Fifth Spirit whispered.

His expression relaxed, the Sandman gave her a knowing smile. His hands in the air, she watched as the ancient Guardian pushed the dream in her direction, the beautiful images starting to come to life in her mind.

As her eyesight started to darken in sleep, she saw him turn and begin to float away. Fighting it, Elsa pushed herself up a tiny bit.

"Oh—Abdullah?"

He turned back around, his eyebrows lifting. Elsa's expression softened.

"Thank you," she said softly.

To this, the Guardian smiled.

Pff!

A golden bowler cap appeared in Abdullah's hand, and he tipped it, giving the Snow Queen a little bow.

Above her in her bed, the little sand-Anna and sand-Elsa were still playing in the snow, silently giggling and twirling together on the ice in the lovely scene. Feeling completely at peace, the soft, golden glowing of the dreamsand in her peripheral vision was the last thing that Elsa remembered before drifting off to sleep.