CHAPTER 7: LEADS & SETBACKS
Seventeen pieces of parchment laid flat on the floor. The light of the room's candles showed that each one was more inky black than white, entirely crammed with words. On top of that, their writer knew, their sides facing the floor were no different. Altogether, these thirty-four pages formed a list several hundred items long – and every item was extraordinary in one way or another.
Seated on his bed, Olaf looked down upon all of this. He looked at feats and meetings and destinations and records and phenomena and other things that could not be categorized, and in his unending bewilderment, he wondered.
"How am I ever gonna do all this?..."
It wasn't a question he was used to asking. Olaf wasn't a planner. Until recently, he'd never been one to think much about the future, be it a plan for years from now or a meal in five minutes. He'd always lived in the present, immediately following any inspiration that spontaneously struck him. Calculating how much time or effort anything he did might consume never even crossed his mind until now.
But even he, with his inexperience in scheduling, could see that checking off every item on this to do list would take more than a few days to do. It would take lifetimes!
Olaf was hardly an expert on the dynamics of human longevity, but even he had a rough idea how long the average person lived, provided all went well (which was still more than he knew about his own kind); nowhere near long enough to complete this list. Even if a person were to dedicate themselves to this bucket list from the moment they could walk and talk, forsaking everything else like school, work, and friends, how could that person do all this? How could anyone?
"Has anyone?" he asked no one in particular.
It didn't seem likely, but that made the whole thing make even less sense. Why set all these goals for oneself if they were completely out of reach? No, someone out there had to have completed the bucket list. Someone had to know the secret to doing all the important, impossible stuff in life! He had to find one of them and get some advice!
"So who could be done the bucket list already?..." Olaf asked himself.
If the list he'd compiled was any indication, none of the people he'd spoken to today – virtually everyone in the kingdom – could, which was almost everyone at his disposal. But that wasn't the whole world, he knew. This just meant no one in Arendelle could enlighten him. At least, no one living in Arendelle...
The truth dawned on Olaf then, and he frowned. "Oh, right. Probably already passed on."
Suddenly, finding anyone who had done it all, let alone consulting them, seemed as difficult as half the items on the list (in fact, contacting the great beyond might actually have been on the list), and anyone else would probably have balked at this turn of events. But as far as the snowman was concerned, that was just an excuse. He was determined not to live a pointless existence like Marshmallow had, and if that meant peering beyond the veil and breaking the laws of nature, then he needed to get to work.
"Maybe there's a spirit board in the attic..." he thought aloud, jumping down from his bed. "I could even say hi to Marshmallow while I'm there!"
Despite how late it was, Olaf threw open his bedchamber door and ran out into the hall with as much energy as a child waking up on Christmas morning – only to crash into the person right outside so hard, his many components were scattered across the floor like bowling pins! (His personal flurry seemed indecisive for a moment before rushing to cover his head.)
"Whoa!" a familiar voice exclaimed as its owner saved herself from landing on her behind. "Oh, Olaf!"
Because Olaf's head was facing away from the speaker, he managed to get one of his arms to drag itself over like a caterpillar, grab his chin, and turn it to face her. Though she was as sideways as the rest of the world at the moment, there was no mistaking her multicoloured feathers and insect wings.
"Oh! Hiya, Tooth!" he greeted cheerfully, already working to pull himself together. "Sorry about that!"
"It's okay. Can I... give you a hand?"
"No, thanks, but if you see a foot or a couple of coals anywhere, I'd love those."
It took several seconds of assembly, but before long, Olaf stood up, complete once more. At least, he thought so until he opened his mouth to speak. Something about it still felt off, and what that was became clear when Tooth turned back to him with a piece of snow in her hand.
"Umm..." she considered out loud, eyeing her find. "You know what, I don't think I'll box this one, I'll let you keep it."
She tossed the front tooth back to Olaf, who returned it to its place in his mouth.
"Thanks, that's better!" he declared, satisfied. "Hey, Tooth! Whatcha doing here?"
"Oh, I was just in the neighbourhood. Y' know, doing a pickup." Toothiana replied casually, showing a freshly fallen tooth not made of snow. "And I thought I'd come by and say hello to my favourite royal family!"
"They're all out right now. Well, not all of them. Anna, Kristoff and Sven are out. Elsa and Jack are in, but they're on a date too, so that's pretty much the same as being out."
"And they left you all on your own? That's too bad. Want me to keep you company for a while?"
"Sure, that'd be great!" What Olaf had been up to before literally running into Tooth was long gone from mind.
"Well, all right!"
Tooth waited for Olaf to reply in any way, but he only lapsed into contented silence. True to her word, she was spending time with him, though she wasn't doing much else.
"So..." she attempted. "Do you wanna do anything while I keep you company, or...?"
"Oh, right! Sure, whaddya wanna do?"
"Whatever you want. Hey, where were you going, anyway?"
"Gah!" the snowman yelped the instant Toothiana finished, suddenly alarmed. "That's right! I've gotta hurry!"
Olaf spun around and started running down the hall before he was even done. Concerned, the Tooth Fairy followed him effortlessly.
"What is it, Olaf?" she queried.
"No time, Tooth!" came the answer without even a look. "I need to find out if anyone who's ever lived remembers getting through the to do list of life!"
Stopping mid-flight, the Guardian of Memories stared after the fleeing Olaf with a look of confusion for a moment before lowering her gaze in consideration. When she looked back up, she opened her mouth to call after him, then closed it with a small smile, deciding to wait and give the snowman a chance to put the pieces together himself.
Olaf almost made it down a third hallway when he did remember the obvious – with a "Heyyyy!" of realization that Tooth heard from where she'd stayed – but to his credit, he did it without a hint from anyone. When he made it back to the Guardian at his top speed, he beamed at her as if seeing her for the first time, and received a grin in return.
"D'you wanna maybe tell me what this is about?" she prompted.
Minutes later, Olaf was back in his bedchamber, waiting for Tooth to speak. For her part, the Guardian was crouched down next to him, staring at his work scattered across the floor as she processed what he'd told her his week had been; learning what a bucket list was, Marshmallow's attack and tragic demise, how it had changed his perspective of the world, and what impossible spot that had left him in. Admittedly, it was a lot, and Olaf couldn't blame her for needing a minute to absorb it all.
Still, he couldn't help but fidget and rock back and forth as he waited. He was no longer anxious as he'd been earlier, but eager, convinced that the answer to the question of how he was going to do all this was about to come out. A Guardian of Memories was better than a spirit board any day – if she would just talk.
"So..." Tooth finally broke her silence. "This is what you mean to do with your life?"
"It's what everyone means to do." Olaf pointed out.
"Um, I'll say. This is... pretty much a whole kingdom's bucket list, Olaf, not just one person's. I dunno about snowmen, but no human being could do all this in one life."
Olaf blinked, his smile disappearing along with his hopes for clarification.
"Really?" he asked helplessly.
"Take it from me, little guy." she assured, finally looking at him again. "I've seen enough lives to know what's possible and what's not."
Olaf was anything but reassured. He grew indignant.
"Then what's the point?!" he demanded without raising his voice, motioning to the sheets on the floor. "This is all the important stuff there is to do in life!"
"Who says this is what's important?"
"Everyone I asked!"
"And do you know why they thought it mattered?"
As much as he could, Olaf slumped in disappointment.
"No, I didn't think to ask." he confessed. "I would've needed more paper..."
"That's okay." Toothiana replied, picking up a random sheet to read more closely. "If you need someone to tell you why something's important enough to be on your bucket list, then it isn't."
As wise as her reasoning was, it still left Olaf without answers. Now, not only did he have no idea how to do everything important with his time on Earth, but he didn't even know what qualified as important.
Bet the spirit board would've given me a straight answer. he thought glumly.
"Then how am I supposed to know what's important for me to do?" he asked wearily.
"Don't worry, I know who you can ask." said Tooth, looking at him. "Yourself."
Olaf's only response was to shake his head, even more confused. Tooth sighed, then placed a hand on his snowy shoulder.
"It's your life, Olaf." she told him patiently. "You decide what's important. I mean, does... wrestling a wolverine down with your bare hands, or getting the Pope to read you your breakfast menu really matter to you?"
Realizing he was being asked to really think about something, Olaf tried to picture himself in either scenario – or any of the ones listed out before him. The way the people of Arendelle had described them to him, the items on his list had seemed so idyllic and tantalizing at the time, he'd felt enthusiasm at their prospects. But that might have just been his trademark habit of getting caught up in others' moods. Without the people he'd spoken to here now, none of their fantasies or goals really held much thrill anymore, even if they had been easy.
"No..." he confessed, shocked to discover that what supposedly mattered in life in fact didn't (to him, at least).
"I didn't think so." the female Guardian concurred, laying down the sheet in her hand. "But they matter to someone in town, and I'll bet it's only because they lead back to something that's important to them. That's the secret to a real bucket list, Olaf. That's the secret to a real, good life. Making it about what matters to you."
With one more smile, she rose to her feet and went to the dresser. There, she took up Olaf's quill, ink bottle, and a blank sheet of parchment, and brought them over to him.
"So you don't want your life to be empty?" she advised kindly. "Build it around what you think is important. And somewhere along the way, you'll find something to put on your to do list." Reaching down, she straightened one of his stick hairs. "Think about it, okay?"
Olaf nodded vaguely, and then, her wings beating again, Tooth levitated into the hall and out of sight, leaving him alone with his troubling thoughts once more.
Whenever he'd thought about it at any point in the last year, Olaf had always been grateful that he wasn't a cranky brute like Marshmallow, the only other being like him, had been. The idea of flying completely off the handle if someone set even one toe anywhere on his territory had always boggled his mind with its pettiness. But now he began to wonder if he'd mixed up pettiness with care. Even if it had been to a fault, Elsa had created Marshmallow to guard the palace at all costs. Keeping intruders out had mattered more to him than anything, and he'd worked toward that goal throughout his existence.
I was wrong. Olaf realized. Marshmallow's life wasn't empty at all!
He might not have had a bucket list, but the big, grouchy, impassioned snowman had certainly lived a life full of what was important to him, however little that had been.
So what was the little, bright, and carefree snowman supposed to do?
Despite the investment he showed to whatever captured his attention, there wasn't very much in the world that was important to Olaf. He enjoyed games and contests, but victory, self-fulfilment, and longtime recognition didn't matter to him. He liked toys and pieces of art, but he knew material goods like that didn't hold any real significance. Right and wrong did, but not enough for him to build goals centred around it. Was there anything he was passionate about, just as Marshmallow had been about his duty? Did anything matter to him enough to warrant his full attention, or even risking his life to see turned out well?
At that, Olaf recalled the one and only time he had risked his life. Near the climax of the Thaw last year, he'd nearly melted trying to keep Anna from freezing to death, despite her protests.
Some things are worth melting for. he remembered assuring her then.
Now, his eyes wandered to the framed portrait hanging on the wall, and the people who smiled at him from it.
All that was truly important to him, Olaf realized, was his family. They were worth giving his life for. They were what he was passionate about. Though they all had to face difficulties from time to time, the good times made all those difficulties worth facing. They made life worth living. Whenever Elsa, Anna, Sven or any of them were happy, it put a smile on Olaf's face, as he felt like he was witnessing something truly special – more special than meeting a celebrity or winning a contest or...
A mystified look overtook Olaf's features as his thoughts reached familiar grounds. One moment passed, then another... and it was replaced by shocked comprehension as the answer became clear. He finally knew what to put on his list.
Elsa had a very long to do list.
She supposed that was to be expected in the aftermath of such a devastating event as Marshmallow's rampage through Arendelle three days prior, but regardless, she hadn't spent those three days sitting around eating chocolates and admiring fine art. Taking steps in her new personal quest aside, she'd been toiling practically overtime trying to see to the care and compensation of the attack's victims, even cutting meals and hours of sleep to catch up on the extra work (so many lives had been uprooted and traumatized, being able to eat well and relax in her luxurious castle would only have added to her already-present guilt anyway). After all that, she'd gotten up this morning certain that she'd begun to succeed. But it seemed that the list of damages was longer than she'd thought.
All of which had resulted in her spending this fine Saturday in her study, digging through documents that bordered on ancient, instead of spending time with Anna, Jack, or any of her other friends. She could only thank her lucky stars that, despite how much work there still was to do, she'd been able to keep her promise that yesterday evening would be for her and her boyfriend. While it hadn't been as long as usual, they'd gotten some time together this week.
Unbidden, some small, doubtful part of her dared to wonder if the same could be said for her and her sister.
Elsa shook her head, not allowing her thoughts to venture there and inflict such anxiety on her again. Besides, until she actually found a sure way to achieve immortality, it wasn't as if she had to make that terrible choice. Right now, she needed to focus on her duties to her people, to help them solve their problems.
This latest one was unexpected, to say the least. One of the homes that had sustained damage at Marshmallow's claws was, apparently, hers. One of the oldest townhouses in the kingdom had been inhabited by the Fiske family for several generations, but in light of the reconstructions it had recently come into need of, the deed had been brought to light, revealing the legal owner to be the royal family. The Fiskes claimed that, in 1788, the house had been a gift from one of the earlier Kings of Arendelle, Elsa and Anna's great-grandfather, but they lacked any proof of this. This had sent several on a search for just that, and Elsa was no exception, looking through her predecessor's personal records – for reasons beyond her understanding.
If she was being honest with herself, she didn't much see the point of this. If it turned out the Fiskes were lying, and had been living on her family's property for decades, it made no difference to her. She had no attachment to the townhouse, having hitherto never known it was legally hers, and therefore no intention of seizing it from a family that had used it for shelter rather than let it rot. And Arendelle had much bigger problems after the events of Wednesday than property ownership disputes. But with a portion of the kingdom still suspicious of her, she couldn't lend much more than her support from afar these days. Between that, and her financial advisor's insistence that she couldn't allow herself to be swindled, Elsa had relented.
Now, she closed her great-grandfather's journal from February 1788, having found nothing eventful but his ailing health. Returning it to its place on the shelf, she helped herself to the next such tome, and began to read with the full expectation of more of the same. In her defence, the first few days of March read just as she'd expected. But the first sentence of the fourth made her blink, unsure she'd read it right.
Caught the witch last night.
At last, it is over. Years of her appearing at random points and times around my kingdom to sell her works of dark art, and years more of her hiding, leaving us to dread her return... No more. It is finally over.
I wish I could say that I was the one who sighted her and lead the raid, but sadly, my condition would reveal my lie. Ill and bedridden, I was in no state for such a venture. No, much of the credit goes to Iulus Fiske.
As I had suspected, lending him that old house was beneficial to us both, and I must remember to negotiate a more permanent arrangement as soon as I'm able. But for a few rooms for his family, he's turned the place into a veritable institution of the witch-hunts. Reportedly, his grandson Lucas was the one to put an arrow in her leg when she attempted to flee. Eleven years old and already so devoted to burning the heretic. He'll make a fine leader of the hunts one day.
As my health continues to put my future in doubt, I find myself hoping that he'll be able to finish this after his grandfather and I are gone. Though the hag has been apprehended, and will burn tomorrow, her lair has yet to be located. It is no doubt there that she's been toiling in the dark arts, manufacturing sinister elixirs of eternal health, youth, and invincibility – if the deals she's been making with my kingdom's commoners are to be believed. This profane laboratory must be found and destroyed at all costs, for if a soul too innocent were to stumble upon it, read her grimoires... they could be corrupted by its promises, causing the cycle of heresy to begin again.
I pray that never comes to pass. I pray magic never finds its way to my kingdom again.
Elsa laid the journal down, her mouth ajar, her eyes wide, and her mind reeling with so much information. At least she'd found more or less what she'd been looking for. The townhouse had indeed been something of a gift to the Fiskes, though official ownership had never gone to them. Her great-grandfather had passed away little over a month after this journal entry, leaving the transaction between he and Iulus pending. By some stroke of coincidence, it had gone unnoticed ever since.
But it was what she hadn't been looking for that astonished her. Not the hatred of magic that a member of her own family had openly expressed and practiced, or the familiarity of the name Lucas. It was the new lead on immortality that had just fallen into her lap.
Elixirs of eternal health, youth, and invincibility. Presuming this hadn't merely been a con by this supposed witch (and that she had indeed been a witch), and that her lair had gone uncharted since her execution, then her work could still very well have been out there, waiting to be discovered. It would take significant investigation to find what others had failed to for decades, but after tracing the legend of the golden flower all the way to its remains in just a few days, perhaps no one was more capable of doing it than Elsa. If she wanted to live forever for Jack, she suddenly had much work ahead of her, and needed to get up and start now.
Elsa stayed in her seat.
It was barely even a lead. Certainly, it was far less to work with than Grand Pabbie's story had been. But in her mind, it felt like the moment she'd been trying not to think about – the moment she would be forced to pick between Anna and Jack – had unceremoniously dropped in and caught her unprepared. She remained motionless, as if paralyzed. Paralyzed with fear, with indecision.
Elsa couldn't do this. She couldn't make this awful choice. She felt like taking so much as one step either toward or away from this chance would lead to heartbreak. So she remained rooted to the spot, literally and figuratively.
Despite her bleak history of involuntarily freezing things, she wished she could freeze time itself. She wished she could stay at this fork in the road, even back away from it. That she could let these days of being with all the people she loved go on forever, never worrying about years from now because they were never coming.
But the universe wasn't going to let this decision stay unmade. Either she would follow this lead, and maybe even find immortality at the end, or she would let it pass, and definitively accept her eventual departure from this world. There was no third option. The question was, which of the two would she choose, knowing that it wasn't only her who would be hurt?
Anna had spent her life loving her with a fierce determination, her care enduring even through a thirteen year separation that she hadn't understood or deserved. Despite how long she'd been shut out with no explanation, she hadn't hesitated even for a second to throw herself into mortal danger to protect Elsa. With a heart so big, she'd more than earned having her big sister, who could never repay her enough but was thrilled to try, back in her life to stay. Condemning her to another separation, this one permanent, would be the worst form of cruelty.
But Jack had lived through an isolation far longer and possibly worse. For all his countless efforts, he'd been ignored for centuries by every person on Earth, save for the occasional run-in with another mythical being. Though never once had solitude and feelings of abandonment corrupted him as they had Pitch Black, it had nevertheless wounded his soul, leaving him with much to heal from. Elsa was one of the few healing remedies fate had granted him, and from what he'd said, the most important. To leave him would be to cause him even more damage he'd never done anything to earn.
Elsa shook her head with a huff, disgusted by herself. Even subconsciously, how dare she compare the two people she loved most like that, as if weighing them on a scale to see who was heavier with emotional damage, and who deserved her more? Neither deserved someone so heartless in their lives.
But that was the extreme that having a heart had briefly pushed Elsa to. Having a heart was just what was making this decision so hard. Somehow, she knew that made the decision itself right. But its options were still so wrong.
All of this would have been so much easier if living forever had been possible for them all, and for a moment, Elsa contemplated that. What if she shared the prize at the end of her quest with Anna, or even invite her to participate in it? That would save the both of them and Jack from losing each other, solving all problems at once! (Of course, not wanting Anna to suffer the same choice she currently was, Elsa would extend the same invitation to Kristoff, and possibly his lifelong friend Sven. And Olaf, if he needed it.) But what if she didn't want it like a part of her did? What if it conflicted with her plans for the future, like starting a family? Even if it didn't, what if, after all of Jack's stories, she feared eternal life and the curses that came with it?
No, Elsa couldn't expect her sister or anyone else to follow her into eternity. She couldn't scar anyone else with a choice like the one she was struggling with; Anna or Jack.
Looking at a portrait of them, herself, and the rest of her loved ones, gently, she began to sing:
"Shopping trips and hide and seek, and working together,
These are but a few things I share with my sister.
Travelling, crafting out of ice, soaring through the sky,
Just some of the things that are for my young man and I...
Are you really going to make me choose;
Anna or Jack, my heart is whose?
If that's the case, then I refuse.
They're both the ones I can't stand to lose.
Neither one can I be rid of.
If I can't have it all, can I have enough?
I ask the saints in Heaven above,
How can I choose between the ones I love?
For thirteen years, I wished there was someone who understood.
Then he came, knowing too well of all the bad and good.
For thirteen years, all alone, I shut out my family.
And through it all, she showed me... that she still loved me...
This isn't fair, I'm being made to choose;
Anna or Jack, my heart is whose?
That being the case, then I refuse.
They're both the ones I can't bear to lose.
Neither one can I be rid of.
If I can't have it all, can I have enough?
I beg of the saints in Heaven above,
Don't make me choose between the ones I love...
Must it come to this decision? Can't we all stay together?
I love them both with all my heart, won't put one over the other.
They each mean so much to me, this choice is like a cruel trick.
I can't live without either one, so how am I supposed to pick?
She never gave up on me. He left to give me peace of mind.
She makes this place feel like home. He shows me magic of all kinds.
Sleeping in his arms at night, or skating with her, hand in hand?
Wanna have an ice-off? Or do you wanna build a snowman?"
With those last few verses having come out like one long, constant sentence, Elsa sucked in a shuddering breath, her eyes brimming with heartbroken tears.
"Sooner or later, I'll be forced to choose;
Anna or Jack, my heart is whose?
If I could, I would just refuse.
Either way, I'm doomed to lose.
Neither one can I be rid of.
If I can't have it all, can I have enough?
Will I stay, or go to Heaven above?
Who will I choose between the ones I love?..."
Jack stared at the stone in front of him for a long moment... then blasted it with a wave of arctic power, causing it to crystallize and explode into fragments. He stayed there for several seconds, breathing harshly and waiting to see if he would do it again. It was a much-needed release for all the frustration that had built up inside him over the course of the week – especially today.
After leaving Elsa to her breakfast this morning, the Guardian of Fun had resumed his search for the Moonstone-turned-idol almost immediately. His girlfriend was still dealing with the aftereffects of Marshmallow's attack, and so couldn't spare him or any of her friends much time at the moment (something Jack had not only understood, but appreciated for once). Taking advantage of both this and his invisibility, he'd spent more than half his day perusing every home in central Africa that he hadn't checked yet, whether their inhabitants were out or not. But to his dismay, he'd found no idols resembling the one he was interested in. Wherever the Moonstone was, it wasn't in the possession of the land's natives.
So he'd turned his attention to its non-natives. Among the villages that Jack had visited, more than one of them had shown all the signs of raids by someone far more numerous, tactical, and advanced; the British. These settlers, he was sure he'd heard, had arrived several decades earlier and begun colonizing Africa in their own barbaric way. Much as it disgusted Jack to see humans put themselves into one class just so they could oppress those in others – Where did the Guardians go wrong with these people? he'd wondered – he'd known that, as a mythical being, he couldn't interfere in their affairs. At least, not directly, or even much. He couldn't allow himself to stop soldiers from burning down homes, capturing or killing the locals en masse, or commandeering their valuables. But that didn't mean he couldn't unlock the cages that the locals had been forced into, or help himself to a particular one of those valuables.
At least he'd accomplished the former today. Once he'd located a British trading post on the African coast, he'd quietly set all the prisoners he could find free, then locked himself into the place's record room, where detailed lists and descriptions of all the settlers' "acquisitions" would surely be kept. The idea of poring over so much paperwork had daunted the Guardian of Fun at first – but then, the possibility of losing his Snow Angel one day had done far worse, encouraging him to push on with his investigation.
It had taken several hours of reading while the prisoners outside revolted against their captors, but Jack had finally found just what he'd been after; a several year-old shipping manifest of African artifacts, including one item that matched the idol's description. The Moonstone had been sent to London for exhibition in a museum. With this knowledge, Jack had taken off for England at top speed, sure that what he'd been looking for was almost within his grasp.
His certainties were misplaced. He'd searched the entire museum, but once again, there was no idol to be found here anymore than in the African villages. In fact, there had been precious few African artifacts at all. Channeling his detective skills once more, Jack had visited and perused a second record room in the space of one day. There, the lead he'd been following for days had come to a blunt conclusion. The ship carrying the spoils of war in Africa had never arrived in England. Except for a few survivors in a lifeboat, it, her crew, and her cargo had been lost at sea in a vicious storm. The Moonstone was, for all intents and purposes, at the bottom of the ocean, where it would never be found. Even without the water currents to move and erode it, it would take Jack forever to search such an enormous body of water. After almost a whole week of incredible, uplifting discoveries and long, dull searches, Jack had practically been set back to where he'd started.
At that, he'd flown out here – he didn't even know where exactly, just some rocky moor – to physically let out all his aggravation.
It wasn't like Jack to get so angry that he needed to scream, hit, or break something. He was no stranger to failure. Goodness knew he'd tried thousands of times over the centuries to be believed in and seen, only for his attempts to go misinterpreted or unnoticed. All those ever did was depress him, sending him winging somewhere isolated to sulk.
But this was so much worse than failing to be believed in. He'd had all of eternity to succeed at that. If – when – he'd failed at those attempts, he'd at least had the knowledge that there would still be children to try again with the next day, and the next year, probably even the next century. With Elsa, another century, maybe even another day was a luxury he didn't have. At best, he only had her lifetime to find a way to make her immortal. For once, he had a deadline (no pun intended) to meet, just like his fellow Guardians. He didn't even know when it was, but it was getting closer and closer every minute. So he could be forgiven for being on edge, not to mention more frustrated by setbacks than he'd ever been.
"Okay, okay, okay..." he murmured to himself, trying to calm down. "So that stone's gone. Okay, fine. But it might not be the only one out there. North did say 'once or twice'. Maybe Sandy saw another one, or maybe someone else did. I'll try the Pole again... or maybe there's some human memories Tooth can check..."
"You know, for someone so interested in rocks, you sure seem to have a problem with 'em." another voice made Jack whirl around – and look up.
There, sitting casually on one of the bigger rocks in the area, was a familiar figure. The way the moonlight silhouetted him revealed that he was not only lean, but entirely covered in fur. The feet that dangled over the edge of the rock were long, and his ears were even longer. When he shifted, twin boomerangs that were thankfully holstered briefly caught the light.
Despite his obvious power, animalistic traits, and weaponry, Jack smirked, already imagining all the ways he could rile up his visitor.
"It's a real stress reliever, Bunny." he quipped, his bad mood forgotten. "Maybe if you tried it, you wouldn't be such a grouch. Of course, there might not be any rocks left around here by the time that happens."
Bunny shook his head, rolling his eyes, and as Jack levitated up to meet him, he got to his feet.
"You just better hope that wasn't one of the googies you're looking for, Frost." he responded, motioning to the remains of the stone Jack had destroyed.
For one wild split second, the Guardian of Fun actually considered that possibility, causing his insides to light up with alarm. The moment passed as quickly as it had come, and he could only hope it hadn't registered on his face.
"So what brings you by, big guy?" he changed the subject.
"Oh, I like coming out here." Bunny answered with just a hint of sarcasm. "It's really outdoorsy compared to my place. There's not a lot of birds to watch, but the sun is great for my complexion."
Jack gave a low snigger, but seriousness soon took back over as he realized the possible truth.
"Is this about the nightmares?" he questioned.
"No, it's about you. And the stones."
Despite himself, Jack's posture changed just enough to convey his surprise.
"... So you talked to Tooth." he realized aloud.
"Yeah, and North." the Guardian of Hope clarified. "And Sandy."
"Then I guess everyone knows now."
"Yeah, now. Why am I always the last one to know about these things?"
"Why am I what you guys like gossiping about?"
"I dunno about them. They care about you, or something."
"So they sent you. Why?" Before Bunny even had a chance to answer, shocked realization found its way onto Jack's features. "Wait... Do you...?"
"No, mate." came the answer. "I know about as much about the stones as you do."
Jack's hopes deflated entirely. Not only had his fellow Guardian not come with another clue for him to follow, but he'd probably come with something he didn't want.
"Then this is another talk bracing me to fail." Jack stated.
"For the record, nobody sent me, Frost. I came here 'cause I have something to bounce off ya." Bunny countered. "Anyway, no. This is a talk bracing you to succeed."
Jack's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Whatever else the other Guardians had said to him, they'd at least expressed some hope that he would triumph. But the way Bunny had spoken about success had made it sound as foreboding as failure.
"Are you saying you don't want me to save Elsa?" the youngest Guardian asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
"Oh, no, mate." the Easter icon responded casually. "You've got me all wrong. I'm all in favour of Elsa sticking around. She's not half as bad as you."
Jack almost chuckled at that, but he was still too concerned about where this lecture was going to give in. For his part, Bunny soon got a more sincere look in his eye.
"And you're not half as bad as you were." he continued with some difficulty. "I've... I've seen the... effect she's had on you, Jack. Don't want you to lose that."
Jack's eyebrows rose at that. It wasn't like the stoic and (in his opinion) irritable Easter Bunny to express his more sensitive side like this, let alone wish for good things for the bringer of winter.
"So, yeah." Bunny resumed, the hard part of his speech over. "If you find a way to make your missus live like us, no problem with that here. I'll even keep an ear to the ground for anything that might help you get there."
"Well, thanks." Jack responded. "Might just take you up on that."
"But let's say you do get there. Okay, you've got the way to make Elsa live forever. That's great. So then what?"
Jack blinked, perplexed.
"Whaddya mean?" he asked.
"I mean, she's not the only human you care about." Bunny answered. "And you've got the front door key to the Fountain of eternal Youth. Yeah, you're gonna use it on your girl first, but after that? Where's it end?"
Jack furrowed his brow and stared into space as he realized what his teammate was getting at.
"Jamie had an effect on you too." Bunny went on. "You gonna make him live forever? What about Anna, and her boy Kris? She's your woman's best friend, and he's her soul mate. Making them immortal too sounds like it makes sense, don't it? How about throwing Sven in there, while you're at it? And how about all your fans in Burgess? Everyone who's ever believed in you?"
"Yeah, okay..." Jack interjected.
"And that's just now." Bunny's tone had become rather pointed. "What about later? What are you gonna do about all their kids they haven't had yet? And their grandkids? You gonna give them the gift too?"
"Okay, I get it."
"Or are you thinking you'll turn the now crowd immortal, and sterilize them, before they ever get that far? Pretty cold, taking that away from them..."
"Bunny-"
"I'm not done. Because even if you do, there's always gonna be someone you'll care about, Frost. And they're gonna be a reason to use that power you got in the first place for your girl. So imagine it. One, ten, a hundred, a million more people living in this world forever, and the number just keeps going up. You don't think that's going to affect the natural order? The order we are supposed to protect?"
Though Bunny had started his lecture in an unusually casual tone, it had transitioned to one bordering on indignant. And Jack couldn't blame him. The Guardians' duty was to help raise the world's future generations into the best they could be, so they could take over and improve the world their predecessors left them. Making too many humans, or even the wrong humans, live forever would pretty much contradict that – and that would only be where the problems started. He could see why this was a concern.
What he couldn't see was himself doing that, handing out eternal life like candy to everyone around him. Since this began, keeping Elsa in this world forever had been his only goal. Including a few others, let alone millions, had never occurred to him.
But before Jack could say that out loud, it did. He had been working under the assumption that succeeding in his quest would allow him to make one person – Elsa – immortal. But what if he'd been wrong, and his prize wouldn't be limited to one use? What if one Moonstone could be used multiple times? Would he be tempted to make all the other mortals he cared for live forever? He did love Jamie, and Anna, and Olaf (however long his life was), and Sophie, and so many others who wouldn't be around forever. Could he stand to lose them any more than he could his Snow Angel?
"I'm not saying don't keep your girl forever, Frost." Bunny spoke up again. "No, hold on with both hands, and don't you dare let go. But you'd better draw a line in the snow between who you are and aren't willing to lose. 'Cause sooner or later, you're gonna have to accept that death is supposed to happen."
His words barely reached Jack, who realized that he'd never even considered all the other mortals he cared about at any point in his mission, even when he was thinking about them or with them.
Mah boy's growing up! he remembered crying triumphantly about Jamie just days ago.
He wanted to see Jamie grow into a good man, get the girl, maybe even raise a few rug rats to continue the healthy family line. He wanted the same kind of joys for all the children who believed in him, and even those who didn't. Once or twice, he'd even quietly hoped that Anna and Kristoff would start a family of their own (and have the best aunt and unofficial uncle of all time). And even if it wasn't kids, he still wanted them all to find happiness in whatever they grew up to have in mind for themselves. That was pretty much what a "successful" human life looked like. Of course, after success, that human life had to end, just like all the others. But as long as they lived their lives to the fullest...
With a bizarre mixture of emotions, Jack realized that he would strangely be all right with them passing on one day. In their stead, he would help raise and protect their descendants, and remember both their times here and their ever-existing love for him. He would keep Jamie, Anna, Kristoff, Sophie, Sven, Pippa and all the others in loving memory.
But what about Elsa? Thinking about it, it still made his insides clench up with pain. It might have been arrogant, but he got the sense that she couldn't live her life to the fullest without him – or without her sister.
That raised another question. Even if he could let go of all his human friends, what would Elsa say if she knew he had this power? Would she expect him to make her other mortal loved ones – most of all her little sister – immortal as well? Or had she already made peace with losing them?
Not having the answer any more than he had a way to make anyone immortal, he looked at Bunny neutrally.
"Let's cross that bridge if I get us to it." he suggested.
Unsurprisingly, the Guardian of Hope's first response was to eye him mysteriously, as if trying to decipher how honest he was being. In that, there was a hint of distrust that reminded Jack of less pleasant times between the two of them, where blows both verbal and physical had been exchanged. Both had brought all they'd had to those clashes, though never to a lethal degree. But that didn't mean it could never come to that, Jack realized...
After a moment, Bunny shrugged.
"Good enough for me." he acquiesced.
"And if I don't get us there..." Jack spoke up, trying to sound less hesitant than he felt. "I hope I can count on you."
"What're you talking about?"
"Just saying, Bunny. You and me? We've been butting heads since day one, and we're still not each other's biggest fans."
If the Guardian of Fun had expected his fellow to understand based only on that, he would have qualified as delusional, as evidenced by Bunny's increased look of confusion.
"And... there's a chance I won't find what I'm looking for." Jack continued to force out. "I might not be able to save her. So if it comes to that, one day... I might have a favour to ask a guy who hates me. 'Cause without Elsa... I'm not gonna wan-"
POW.
Out of nowhere, the middle of Jack's face exploded into blinding pain. With his head spinning and his vision filled with stars, he stumbled backwards – all the way over the edge of the rock, where he fell some dozen feet and hit the ground below before he could even think through the hurt to trigger his staff. Between the two impacts, it took several long seconds for Jack to regain his senses and put together what had happened.
As his spinning mind realized he'd been punched in the face with more force than a battering ram, his eyesight righted itself – allowing him to see his assailant standing right over him. Before Jack could even react, Bunny knelt down, grabbed a fistful of his sweater, and pulled him up enough to look him in the eyes, which were ablaze with fury.
"Don't. Ever finish that sentence." Bunny snarled, visibly struggling not to yell it.
Despite being back to full consciousness, Jack didn't respond, stunned that the Guardian of Hope had actually slugged him with all his might mid-sentence, and that he might very well do it again. He looked angrier than he'd ever seen him.
"You really think I could do that?" Bunny demanded lividly. "You really think I'd like that? That that's what you mean to me?"
Again, Jack did nothing but stare. Finally, Bunny shoved him back down to the grass and got to his feet.
"If that's what you want, you'd better hope Pitch is back." he growled with a sneer before turning to leave. "He's the only one who would ever do you that favour. 'Course, he'd have to go through the rest of your team first."
With that, the Easter icon disappeared from sight. Whether he'd run off and disappeared into the heaths or dropped into one of his tunnels and was halfway around the world, Jack didn't know. All he knew was that he felt an overwhelming urge to apologize for saying something both terrible and stupid.
Of course he didn't believe Bunny hated him, least of all enough to end his life. Though they were hardly the best of friends, the Rise last year had opened their eyes to enough of each other's qualities to develop a mutual, if sometimes begrudging respect that they both preferred to their past disagreements. But just now, Jack had nearly thrown that away, he realized.
He hadn't done it for nothing, though. He'd done it for Elsa. Ever since his realization Monday morning, Jack had begun heading to a very dark place, but it wasn't because of his quest. It was because he had been made eternal, and the one he wanted to spend eternity with had not. His train of thought ending there, he looked up as much as he could at the one who'd made him this way.
It might have been his imagination, but Jack almost felt like the not quite full Moon – that had always somewhat looked like an eye – was looking more directly at him than usual. It was almost as if this turn of events had actually made its master care for once.
Yeah, right. Jack thought skeptically.
There was a lot of betrayal, horror, and sadness going around these days, starting from him and spreading to everyone he involved in his quest. And it could all have been avoided. All of this would have been so much easier if the Man in the Moon would just have stepped in already. But after three centuries, and not one, but two mentally scarring tests, Jack had long since given up on asking his creator for anything, forcing him to essentially go behind his back. If the Man in the Moon wouldn't give him what he needed, he would be – was – taking it himself.
"Don't look at me like that, old man." he muttered flatly. "You must've known this day would come."
With that, Jack turned away and took to the sky, not caring if the Man in the Moon was watching him – and not noticing what else was.
For the first time in a very long time, the Man in the Moon was worried.
It was hard for someone who could foresee every potential outcome of any conceivable turn of events, even manipulate the probabilities of some of them happening, to be worried. Natural disasters on Earth, wars between different human communities, even damage to the Moon were hardly cause for alarm when he could see every possible result and, if he had to, nudge the fates toward the best one. Pitch Black's actions last year – the biggest threat to humanity in centuries – had been of little concern to him when he'd long since anticipated them, and created exactly the right Guardians in response.
Now and then, though, he wondered if he was being too passive in his plans. (Yes, even the Man in the Moon had doubts.) He questioned whether he should be taking control of the odds more often and ensuring they lead to the right course of events, rather than letting them play out naturally and having faith. Because sometimes, his faith was not rewarded. Sometimes, fate changed courses at the last moment, and created the one thing that could ever worry him; things he couldn't foresee.
The Man in the Moon's ability to see possible futures wasn't perfect. He could only see courses of events that grew from his machinations, and that he'd pre-examined thoroughly. But even he couldn't examine them all, and so limited himself to the most likely outcomes (particularly if he made them more likely). So when, thanks to his inactivity, destiny took the least likely path and created something that he hadn't explored ahead of time – deviations – his vision was clouded. And little more than twenty years ago, a new deviation had emerged, and it had been named Elsa.
According to his plan, the firstborn child of King Agnarr and Queen Iduna had never been meant to develop winter magic. She had been intended to live a much more unremarkable life, ruling the kingdom of Arendelle for a time, never drawing the attention of anything mystical, carrying on her family line, and passing on without any great fuss. Instead, magic had become a constant part of her life, and her destinies had become increasingly hard to see. Worse, because she was a deviation, whenever her timeline intersected with someone or something else's, their future became obscure by extension. Consequently, the Man in the Moon had never foreseen the accident of Elsa and her sister's childhood, or what would come of it. He'd figuratively been on the edge of his seat throughout the Great Thaw, and had been infinitely grateful that things had transpired the way they had. He'd still been unable to see Elsa's future, but he'd hoped that her life would settle back into some version of normalcy, that she would rule her kingdom well for several decades, and that the blindness she caused him would die with her.
Instead, she was now part of Pitch's plan.
That was half of what concerned the Man in the Moon so much now, not his survival and return alone. Having peered into most of Pitch's possible fates, he'd seen that it was most likely he would live out eternity skulking in the shadows, trying to scavenge some of his former power, but never again a menace to anyone. But again, the odds had failed him. After all these years, Pitch had finally stumbled onto Elsa, casting his own future – and his schemes – into shadow too dark for the Man in the Moon to see into.
(It was a turn of events the cosmic deity had been working to avoid since the accident of Elsa and Anna's childhood. Recognizing that fear would be her enemy, he'd cast a concealment hex over her growing terror of herself, not wanting the Boogeyman to catch its scent. Unfortunately, this had also masked her – and her little sister, whose entire life had always been so intertwined with hers – from the Guardians who might have been able to help. Worse than that, it had lead to the Thaw that could have destroyed Arendelle, maybe even Norway. But it had been a necessary evil. Her might controlled by her fear, in turn controlled by Pitch's darkness, created possibilities (ones the Man in the Moon couldn't foresee, but could imagine) that made his plot last year look as harmless as an elf's ideas for fun.)
It was because so much was so unclear that the Man in the Moon didn't know what to do, much less what the Guardians should do. Would alerting them to Pitch's return help them discover and stop his new plot before it unfolded? Or was the Boogeyman counting on their interference, just as he'd seemed to have been counting on Jack stopping Marshmallow's rampage? He was certainly clever enough to conceive that; he'd factored the Guardians into his last plan, transparent as it had been. Who was to say he wasn't doing it again, this time beyond the sight of his omniscient creator? Perhaps all this blindness was making that creator paranoid, but until he knew more, he would send no alerts to his servants, lest he alter the course of events in the wrong direction.
But the other (and easily worst) half of what worried him was that, even if Pitch had not returned or taken notice of Elsa, there would most likely still have been cause for concern. The Boogeyman wasn't the only mythical being with an interest in her.
Contrary to Jack's beliefs, he hadn't known for certain that this day would come. Since the day the newest Guardian met the deviation Elsa (something else that had been extremely unlikely, but had happened nonetheless), the Man in the Moon had become increasingly blind to coming events. He had not foreseen the two bringers of winter falling in love. He had not foreseen them simultaneously embarking on serious quests to make the young Queen immortal. And he had definitely not foreseen tonight's events.
Jack Frost didn't want to live in a world without Queen Elsa. A world that was well on its way. He would rather die, and stay dead.
This was something the Man in the Moon could not allow. His designs for the world's future generations depended upon a Guardian of Fun in their lives just as much as it did the other Guardians. Without him, his plans would be in dire jeopardy.
He couldn't afford to sit idly by this time. And he didn't have many options. As far as he could see (which wasn't nearly as far as it used to be...), he could either make Elsa immortal, as Jack wanted... or he could ensure her death.
No doubt some would think the former was the obvious right thing to do. But they weren't in full possession of the facts the way he was. She was a human with a finite part to play in the world, in the plan, in destiny itself. To make that role infinite would throw so much out of control – unless she received a new role, and someone were to take up her old one. But the Man in the Moon could see no other purpose for her, save for giving Jack Frost an excuse to stay alive. Without a true reason to exist, she would be an eternal deviation, disrupting the natural order and leaving a trail of chaos in her wake forever.
Therefore, the safer solution was certainly to let Elsa die, preferably soon. Without her, the fates of everyone around her would become clear again, and the plan for the world could carry on – at least, so long as the Guardian of Fun didn't go with her. But he could arrange some way for Jack's memories of her to be lost, and guarantee that no one would ever remind him of his time with her. It would require more direct involvement from the Man in the Moon than he was famous for, but at least all this would finally be over. His course of action seemed to be clear.
And yet, he didn't jump at this chance, doubting its morality for once. As a cosmic deity, he'd done and allowed many things over the millennia, some of them terrible from an earthling perspective, all to lead mankind to its greatest self, and he would continue to do so. But even to one so far above man and myth, erasing Elsa from Jack Frost's life felt wrong.
... Nevertheless, the Man in the Moon had rarely allowed his feelings to stop him from doing what needed to be done. His time to act was running out. If he was going to get the world on the right track, then he needed to set things in motion soon. The time to seal the Queen of Arendelle's fate was almost here...
Author's note: Yep, another song. Riddle me this, critics. If you were writing a story using the Frozen characters, and it included musical segments, would you feel right giving a song to Olaf, but not Elsa? You know, essentially the voice of the franchise? I'm not saying my song is any Let It Go, (and besides, stylistically, it resembles Do You Want to Build a Snowman? more) but you can't blame me for trying to do right.
And yeah, speaking of Olaf, I know, he's been going about this whole bucket list business the wrong way. But if the end of his scene here wasn't clear, this plotline is ultimately going somewhere.
On another note, all this talk of searching for stones has given me a mental image of Jack threateningly demanding "Where is the stone?" as Thanos. Anyone else?
*Laughs*
Oh, and for all you history buffs reading this, I think we can safely assume that the Scramble for Africa took place a little earlier in the Snow & Frost Storyverse than in real life.
Finally, I would like to give a monumental thank you to my friend mlpfanceline1 for her contribution to this chapter; now available to hear on her YouTube channel is Elsa's song of this chapter, My Heart Is Whose! That's right; while you are still welcome to imagine for yourselves how the song should sound, the way she and I imagine it is out there for your listening pleasure! To check it out, just look up the Mlp fan Celine channel on YouTube. And consider giving some of her other works a listen, or even subscribing, while you're there. She really is a talented musical composer, and it's been a great privilege to work with her.
See you next chapter!
Mikaelus, November 9th, 2024