CHAPTER 5: FAIRY & PRINCESS
Olaf was holding proof right in his hands, and he still couldn't believe that Marshmallow was gone.
The nearly-full day since it had happened had all been a blur to the snowman – almost literally. The whole world had seemed to slow to a snail's pace and become fuzzy, like it had all been plunged underwater, when the news of the giant's fate had left Kristoff's mouth, and Anna, Elsa and Jack had confirmed it. Olaf's mind simply couldn't absorb anything else while it was still struggling to accept such a revelation, so his senses had been muffled. Not only that, but any other thoughts had been impossible. Things like speaking and moving seemed unlikely. At least, so it had seemed.
The next time Olaf had caught a glimpse of the passing world, it had been hours later, and he'd found himself sitting in one of the castle's parlours, to his surprise. He didn't remember leaving the ruined market, much less travelling and sitting down here. He also didn't remember being called to supper four times, but Anna, the one to more or less snap him out of his personal blur, assured him it had happened. What had followed was a talk about the day's incident, and how Olaf felt about it, most of which he recalled. But eventually, that noiseless fuzziness had engulfed him again. If he had eaten supper, he'd done so unconsciously.
Maybe this had shown, because Anna, Elsa, Kristoff and Sven had sat him down for another talk a few hours later still – the next time the world had come back into focus. They'd all said a lot about life, death, and how they wanted to help him now. But nothing they'd said could help Olaf really believe the news, and he'd drifted back under again.
His night had been sleepless, and the morning seemed to indicate that today would just be more of yesterday. That left Olaf sitting by the window now, staring down at the diadem in his hands (according to Elsa, it might well have sat on Marshmallow's head this past year). It was as if every time the news started to settle into the realm of being true, something sharp abruptly repulsed it, leaving it to bounce around his mind until it ran out of momentum, and the cycle restarted. That sharp something was Olaf's bother.
In keeping with his usual innocent nature, of course he felt bad for Marshmallow. It didn't matter that the big guy had been rude and gotten physical with him and his friends; his was still a life, not to mention one like his. Its loss was a real shame.
"Aww, Marshmallow." Olaf mumbled down to the diadem. "I'm gonna miss you, buddy. The palace'll never really be safe now without your grouchiness. You were just doing your job, and everyone gave you such a hard time. Sorry I ever made fun of you. I'll never forget the way you yelled at us to go away and threw me out piece by piece. I never said this, but I kinda thought of you as my big brother. My big brother who had some serious issues and took them out on me but I loved anyway. You were the only other guy like me..."
And that was the real heart of his troubles. Marshmallow had been the only other member of his kind, and now, he was dead. Olaf didn't know what about that bothered him more; the fact that this left him as the last of a species... or that this demonstrated that he wasn't as invincible as he'd assumed.
Most of this past year, dying had seemed like such an unlikely possibility to Olaf when, every day, he triumphed over what destroyed every other snowman; heat. As a result, he had hardly ever thought about mortality as a whole, his or anyone else's. He'd just kind of lived day to day, never thinking about the next unless someone was planning something special, like a party or a trip – never wondering if his days were numbered. Maybe he'd begun to take his immunity to melting for granted, and thought he was immune to every destructive force.
But something had happened to Marshmallow – something that wasn't heat, something that a personal flurry couldn't have protected him from. Something had made him go out of control and attack people, forcing Elsa to stop him permanently. What that was remained a mystery to them all (though, something about his friends' demeanour had made him unsure they were as ignorant as he was), but the fact that it existed was enough for now. It was out there, and until they figured out what it was and how to stop it, it could get Olaf, too. He had to assume that, starting yesterday, his time was running out – just like that of everyone else in the kingdom. Were humans all just born with the knowledge that they lived on borrowed time? Or did they, like him, find out somewhere along the way? If it was the second, he wondered how they reacted.
The answer struck his mind like a thunderbolt when he recalled a recent conversation with Anna.
"Heyyy!" he exclaimed, his mood brightening unexpectedly. "I should write one of those lists! I don't wanna be another Marshmallow, I wanna do all the important stuff too! This'll be fun!"
Jumping to his feet so hard that he briefly separated the rest of his body from them, Olaf laid the ownerless diadem on the windowsill and ran from his bedchamber to start his next adventure. It began in Elsa's study, where he grabbed a quill and a blank sheet of parchment off her desk, making sure to check both sides for any writing (Elsa had not been happy that time he'd accidentally drawn a picture on the back of a trade agreement, forcing her to rewrite it). With all the physical materials a list could need, he ambled back into the hall and prepared to write, his expression optimistic and his pace as purposeful as it could ever be.
Neither faltered as something else occurred to him.
"... So where do I start?..."
Home – one of them, anyway. Jack sighted it just as he exited another puff of cloud, having just been flying blind and trusting the wind to take him where he needed to be. So far, he hadn't been let down; there was no mistaking the village in the middle of woodland far below for any other. The houses, the general store, the park with the statue in its centre, it was all very familiar to the being who had practically watched all that grow over the past three centuries from the tiny European colony it had started out as.
"Burgess!" he greeted elatedly. "It's good to be back!"
It really was. Jack already felt his deep connection with the place step into the foreground of his heart, and he hadn't even touched down yet. Seeking to fix that, he swung over in the air and went into a dive. The town "above" him still didn't look like much the closer he drew, but he knew otherwise. When he thought about it, Burgess had just as much history and importance to the world as Arendelle, it was just more discreet about it. Here, a bringer of winter had been born to play a pivotal role in events to come (a wild coincidence). This was where the fate of the world's future generations had been contested in a mighty battle. And it was also where evil had been defeated, its power turning inward and dragging it under. At least, that was how things had looked.
At that thought, Jack's brow furrowed. His eyes wandered to the outskirts of town.
It wouldn't hurt to check... he thought suspiciously.
Leaning to one side and turning over, the Guardian of Fun altered course and swooped toward a certain clearing in the woods. Though he'd dropped into Burgess dozens of times since last year, this was a particular spot he hadn't revisited. The last two times he'd been here hadn't been all that pleasant, and both had involved the rotting remains of a wooden bed over a bottomless pit in the ground.
Clearing a line of trees, Jack arrived at the site to behold... nothing. No pit, no bed, no sign that darkness had clawed its way back out of the same place it had been buried.
But it has. the bringer of winter reminded himself. That nightmare found its way out of the lair, which means the door got opened. Guess it didn't open where it closed. Nothing's ever simple.
Still, just because one nightmare hadn't come to Burgess didn't mean the other few wouldn't. The locals needed to be warned. Seeing that there was nothing to find in this clearing, Jack took off to do just that.
From the sun's position in the sky, it was about seven in the morning when Jack arrived. Businesses were just starting to open, while farmers were well ahead of them. Because school was out at this time of year, some of their older children would be helping them. Almost at the age of twelve, Jamie would most certainly be among them.
Reaching his first believer's house, Jack found his suspicion to be true, as Jamie strode out the back door with a pail in hand as if on cue. In his usual mischievous fashion, the Guardian resisted the urge to drop down into the open and greet the boy directly, choosing instead to shadow him until he saw an opening to play a trick. It only took a few minutes for one to present itself in the form of a creek in the woods. Stopping at its shore, Jamie dropped to one knee, took his pail in both hands, and made to scoop up some water – only for the pail's lip to ricochet off the creek's frozen surface. To his credit, Jamie only looked surprised for about a second before he started to laugh in comprehension.
"Not too early for a snow day, is it?" Jack quipped from his nearby tree branch perch.
"Hey, Jack!" Jamie answered, getting up and beginning toward him.
Leaping to the ground, the Guardian of Fun met the boy for their trademark handshake – a high five, low five, mutual push away, mutual "got my eyes on you" gesture, and a simple handshake in closing – that they'd conceived this past winter. But as his palm parted from Jamie's, he felt guilt slash into him worse than Marshmallow's arm blade had yesterday. Jack didn't understand it, but he almost felt like he was face to face with someone who'd only ever been good to him, and he'd repaid his kindness by doing something bad to him without his even knowing it. Were it not for the rational part of him holding him back, he might have started begging for forgiveness.
Where is this coming from? Jack asked himself indignantly.
As far as he remembered, he'd done nothing but good things for this kid and his friends since the Rise last year, from participating in their snow fights to taking them flying to icing over the schoolhouse so they wouldn't have to go to class. If anything, he should've been feeling proud, not guilty.
"How you doing, pal?" he queried, hoping Jamie might give him some clue.
"Doing the same as I was two weeks ago." came the answer with a grin. "How about you?"
Wish I could say the same. the bringer of winter was tempted to admit. Two weeks ago...
It was true, he'd stopped in Burgess for about an hour when his flight to his next task had taken him through the area some two weeks earlier. That had been a good time with some of his only his believers – no overwhelming feelings of culpability then. Had something happened since then?
"Just fine." Jack fibbed. "How's the rest of the gang? Anything new?"
"Well, after I finish my chores, the rest of the club is meeting at the pond." Jamie quickly informed him. "Why don't you come with and find out?"
Goodness knew the Guardian of Fun would have loved nothing more than a day of innocent childhood fun with his believers, whether it was frog-catching, building another fort, or having a summer snow fight. But his latest concern in life – Elsa's condition of mortality – nagged at him once again.
"Oh, I'd like to." he responded with a regretful smile. "But I can't really stay. Got some Guardian work to do."
By this point, Jamie had finally grown suspicious. He knew better than most humans that "Guardian work" typically involved children like himself.
"Then what brings you by?" he asked carefully. "You know, if you're thinking of giving us a snow day, you might have to wait a few more days so it's in season."
Despite his unexpected turn of emotion at the moment, Jack couldn't help but chuckle, appreciating Jamie's wit. King of comebacks that he was, he might have rubbed off on the boy a little this past year.
Jamie's lack of any news was also somewhat reassuring. At least nothing – like a nightmare hurting someone – had happened to anyone while he'd been gone, and he was just innately picking up on that. There was no major change about these kids. So whatever had changed to cause this sensation of guilt had to do with him. But what? What had happened in two weeks to change how he felt about these kids? The news about the nightmares? No. His search for a Moonstone? Nuh-uh. His last date with...
Jack nearly sighed as the truth dawned on him. One of the last things to happen on that date had been pretty important to him; his pledge to Elsa. He'd declared her to be his reason to exist – which some might see as a direct breaking of his oath to the children of the world.
It is not. he mentally argued, hurt. They're both important to me.
He had every intention of keeping up his work as a Guardian, even improving it, while still giving his Snow Angel everything she deserved. But looking at Jamie now, he felt like he was being challenged in the most passive-aggressive way possible. Being the first child to ever believe in him, to Jack, Jamie often represented all the children he lived to nurture and protect. And now, it was like fate was sitting that down in front of him, practically daring Jack to say what he'd said again – to tell Jamie that he was only his other concern. And how could he ever say that to this face? The first human face to turn to him, to see him, to smile at him?
"All right, you got me." Jack admitted before it was too late, managing to smirk. "I wasn't just in the neighbourhood. I'm here to give you a heads-up."
Jamie cocked his head a little, waiting to hear the rest. For his part, Jack hesitated to bring anything about Pitch back into the children's world, but ultimately gave in.
"The nightmares. They're out and about." As expected, Jamie's eyes widened in shock, and Jack quickly went on. "We don't think he's back. Pretty sure he's dead and buried. But those nightmares that took him down? Sandy thinks they're done with that, now they're just running around causing trouble. I took one out yesterday."
He decided not to mention how much trouble that one had caused. If Jamie and his friends were going to be prepared for any nightmares that wandered their way, they couldn't risk their best weapon by believing nightmares could hurt them. (Besides, there weren't any Marshmallows out here to be possessed.)
Despite this, Jamie didn't reply, staring into space as he processed this new development.
"Hey." Jack regained his attention, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'm not telling you this 'cause I'm afraid for you. I'm telling you 'cause I'm not. I know that if any big, bad ponies made of black soil rear their ugly heads around here, they're the ones who should be scared."
Jamie sniggered, to the Guardian's relief.
"Yeah." came the reply. "Guess so."
"Just remember why, 'kay?"
Jamie nodded.
"Be brave." he said. "And believe."
"Oh, you've got this." Jack responded daringly, giving his shoulder a pat. "Make sure the others remember too, okay? Maybe make that the first order of business at today's meeting."
"You sure you can't stay and tell them yourself?"
"Don't I wish. But I've got places to be, and I'm off-season here. Besides, with you in charge, your friends are in good hands."
Visibly flattered, Jamie gave an acknowledging motion at the praise. But then, that expression fell into mild worry as something seemed to strike him.
"Hey, Jack." he asked.
"Yeah?"
"How's Elsa?"
Jack blinked, surprised.
"Elsa? She's... good." he responded unsurely. "She told me to say hi."
"Uh, hi back. And, um... how're... things... going there? With... you two?"
Jack only grew more surprised. A teasing grin started to pull at the corners of his lips.
"Uhh, also good? Why do you ask?"
"Just... wondering."
Jamie had never wondered about that before, Jack couldn't help but notice. But then, Jamie had also never been so close to adolescence before, and was only getting closer every day. On top of that, Jack liked to think that he'd set a great example for him as he grew up – including in getting a girlfriend. And if Elsa was, from where Jamie stood, good enough for the Guardian of Fun... maybe she was good enough for him, too. Was it possible that he had a little crush on his Snow Angel?
"Yeah, I'm wondering a few things myself." Jack remarked, unable to stop grinning. "Where are you going with this?"
"I dunno, just..." Jamie struggled to choose the right words. "I mean, first I hear of her, she's just your new friend, and... then, before I know it... you're bringing her by and saying she's your girlfriend. So... I dunno, I'm just wondering, how... how did you go from... that to this?"
A new theory started to form in Jack's mind, making fighting a smile increasingly hard.
"You looking for a story?" he asked. "Or girl advice?"
The redness that invaded Jamie's cheeks confirmed Jack's suspicions. It may not have been on Elsa, but Jamie definitely had a crush – probably on one of his friends.
"Is it Cupcake?" he pressed quietly.
"No." Jamie shook his head, his blush fading a little. Jack believed him.
"Pippa?"
"No!" Jamie almost shouted, his face burning bright red.
Jack laughed warmly, not believing him at all. He threw an arm across the boy's shoulders and gave him a playful shake before loudly and proudly breaking the news to the world.
"Mah boy's growing up!"
"I can't go?" Elsa asked, a trace of disbelief in her voice.
Traditionally, the Queen of Arendelle only met with her council of advisors on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, leaving Thursdays – like today – free of that. Yet now, she found herself seated at the head of the stateroom table, atop which lay many documents, and around which were seated its usual visitors.
This hardly surprised her, though. After the horrendous events of yesterday, it made perfect sense for an emergency meeting to have been called. The costs of repairs and replacements, the effects business overall was fated to feel, and the compensation and care of victims needed to be addressed for everyone's own good. Frankly, had none of the council members beaten her to the punch, Elsa would have demanded such a convocation herself.
Not that her willingness to have this meeting had made sitting through it any easier. Seeing much of the destruction Marshmallow had exacted on Arendelle in the flesh had been bad enough, tapping into one of Elsa's deepest insecurities. Hearing about it in extreme detail, as well as from a financial standpoint, only made it worse. It surprised few of the council members that, consequently, the generous young Queen volunteered portions of her own fortune to cover the costs of any given loss when no other solution could be devised. But this was more than her usual generosity. Though Jack and Anna had both assured her too many times to count that this was not her fault – after his visit to the Guardians yesterday, Jack had dropped by to tell her that, according to his comrades (though he himself had seemed unsure), this was just one rampant nightmare that got lucky – Elsa could not help but feel she was at least partly responsible, having allowed Marshmallow's existence to begin with. And it seemed she wasn't the only one.
Though all the members of the council had been reluctant to say it, the truth had eventually made its way out; many citizens of Arendelle were uneasy about their Queen after yesterday's attack. Her word that the beast of the North Mountain would keep its distance had been broken, and now they wondered what other promises she might break. Reportedly, some even suspected that this battle had either been staged to ingratiate herself and Jack to the people, or was part of some bigger, more nefarious plot.
While she'd maintained her composure, simply nodding sadly, Elsa had been appropriately heartbroken by this hard truth. After forging so many healthy connections to her people in the last year, goodness knew how many had become tense after only a few minutes. It was doubtful any of them would want to see her face right now. None of the advisors had objected when she'd suggested keeping her distance for at least a few days, aiding only from a monetary standpoint (though, if anyone came to her with a concern, the gates would not be closed).
It was when she'd hinted that perhaps she ought to make a diplomatic trip to Corona in the near-future that appalled looks had appeared all around the table. Forgetting his place, Ambassador Lorentzen had even indignantly blurted out that the Queen couldn't go now, much to everyone's surprise. Now, he was the centre of disbelieving attention.
"A-apologies, your majesty." he quickly corrected himself. "I don't assume to tell you what to do. I just... wouldn't advise leaving the kingdom at the moment."
"Why is that?" Elsa asked neutrally.
"In light of the people's... misgivings about you at the present time, public scrutiny is bound to rise, Queen Elsa." Irma took the liberty of answering for the Ambassador. "As long as it does, none of us would advise any questionable actions right now. Taking an impromptu getaway to Corona in the immediate aftermath of this crisis would certainly raise questions."
If Irma and Lorentzen both making the same point hadn't been enough to convince Elsa, the rest of the council nodding assent most certainly was. Admittedly, she hadn't thought of that, though she should have. Her father had reminded her time and again that people needed their leader the most in times of fear. Of course, she doubted that he'd imagined said leader was what people were afraid of when he'd said that, but his point still stood. She couldn't openly abandon Arendelle when it had barely started to recover from such an attack. As long as her people needed her, whether they wanted her or not, her duty was to them.
The best course of action, as encouraged by her advisors here, was to give her people space until suspicions faded, but stay close by for the event that she was needed – keep her distance, but stay in sight. Everybody would somehow win that way. The only problem was that it stopped Elsa, however temporarily, from getting to Corona and searching for the flower that would let her be with Jack forever, something she couldn't allow. However many weeks, months, or even years it took for both the market and public confidence in her to be repaired, she couldn't waste them all cooped up in her castle. She didn't have any time to waste, and the search she was conducting couldn't be done entirely from her study.
Not for the first time, the Queen of Arendelle was being pushed to choose between her kingdom and her boyfriend. In the last eight months or so, there had been a few instances where an event or an emergency (not nearly as pressing as yesterday's attack, but nevertheless...) had demanded her presence at a time she normally reserved for Jack – forcing her, to her dismay, to cancel on him. But this wasn't just another ice-off or dinner in Thailand that her council was asking her to put off. The scales of priority were much more balanced this time, and choosing between the two was next to impossible. There had to be a way to get the best of both worlds.
I can't afford to wait to head to Corona. she thought as the last few items of the meeting's agenda were discussed. But I can't leave my people right now, either. Not that any of them will come asking for me... At the very least, I can't be seen leaving Arendelle, and I can't be gone for long. There and back again in just a few hours, maybe...
Among other things, Jack had broadened Elsa's view on travelling more than any other human's. There was no need for a big, gaudy boat, packed bags, and loved ones wishing for happy trails – all things easy for the public to see at the docks – when magic made such voyages instantaneous. Of course, she could hardly ask Jack to take her to Corona without telling him why sooner or later – most likely sooner than she was ready for him to know. Besides, even if she could, while he was no sailing ship, there was still an excellent chance that he would be spotted carrying her out of Arendelle. But he and his staff weren't the only magical way to travel, or even the fastest.
The Queen's mind was all but made up when the meeting was finally adjourned, and she made her way to her study immediately after. Instead of getting to work as she normally did in this room, though, she dropped the files she bore on her desk as she made her way to the cupboard next door. Opening it, she knelt and began rummaging through the various books and boxes neatly stacked inside. Behind them all, tucked cozily into a corner, was an item that seemed very out of place. Between its spherical shape and its colour scheme, it looked rather like a Christmas tree ornament, albeit without a hook on top. Though its top and bottom were painted a festive red and gold, the rest of the orb was completely transparent and empty – or so it appeared. While it was completely invisible at the moment, there actually was something inside this "ornament"; the power to go anywhere on Earth in less than a second.
"Corona..." she whispered into the snow globe as she gave it a shake.
And sure enough, in a swirl of white flakes, the void at its centre was filled with a view of the beautiful island kingdom. All she needed to do was toss the snow globe, and the way there and back would be open to her.
At that last step, a part of Elsa hesitated. North had entrusted this device to her for emergencies only, and told her, in no uncertain terms, that he would know if it was used for anything less. (That was rather why she'd hidden it in this cupboard and not told anyone but Jack about it in the first place. Anna or Olaf might have used it for less serious instances – and quite possibly have lost the snow globe and gotten stranded somewhere – testing North's patience.) But then...
If being separated from Jack isn't an emergency... Elsa mentally reasoned, committing to this course of action. I don't know what is.
"We just had another drop in Constantinople, add it to the list for tonight! And there's a canine under a pillow in Saitama, sweetie, go fetch that, okay? Did the team from Khabarovsk Krai report back yet? Oh, thank you, darling. No nightmares is good nightmares. All right, good job, ladies! Oh! I see two incisors and a molar in Palembang! Who wants it? How about you, honey? Honey? Hello?"
The little fairy Toothiana was addressing didn't respond until the second "hello", seeming content to stare into the evening sky via one of the Palace's openings. When she finally looked around, her gaze lacked focus for a few seconds before she visibly realized she was being spoken to. Her eyes grew wide as she snapped out of her reverie, and she shook her tiny head. Now fully back to the present, she repeated her orders in a chitter for clarification, nodded her compliance, and zipped off to do her job.
With a mildly pained expression on her flawless face, Tooth watched her flutter away. She was hardly the first of her fairy helpers to lose focus and grind to a standstill today, and it was doubtful she would be the last. Still, it was an improvement on yesterday. When she'd returned from the Pole with the news that Pitch's last nightmares were loose, starving and out of control, most of her little ones had been thrown into a panic. The echo chamber that was the Palace had immediately resounded with thousands of frightened chirps and trills, and in Toothiana's ears, they were translated to something – many somethings – coherent. Some of the more resolute fairies had called for battle stations to be manned in a brave last stand, while the more sensitive ones had succumbed to panic attacks. (Few, including the one Jack had nicknamed Baby Tooth last year, amazingly, had contained their fear and tried to help their creator reestablish some calm.) Work at the Palace had practically come to a halt, all at the mere mention of the enemy.
In the fairies' defence, they might have been right to fear. The nightmares were still out to do what Pitch had made them to – and last year, that had included attacking the Palace and capturing the fairies (by swallowing them alive, no less) for imprisonment in their lair. Any of the survivors might still have been tempted to accomplish that mission a second time, and the first wasn't something any of the fairies had yet forgotten. Tooth had spent enough time in the past year counselling her helpers through their trauma and back to mental health. Now, they might have had to face their demons again.
This knowledge had cast a heavy shadow over the Palace all day, no matter how upbeat and encouraging Toothiana had tried to be. Though the initial terror and despair had passed, the cheeriness it had usurped had not returned. Instead, an air of tension hung over the fairies. Their contented smiles were gone, replaced with anxious expressions that scanned everywhere they went for threats. They now made an effort to be quiet, keeping their mouths shut and their wings beating as close to silently as possible, listening for anything out of place. As a result, muted was the sweet music of their flight that the Guardian of Memories treasured so much. And though she'd refused to let her little fairies set up ballistas around their home mountains, she had allowed them to form patrols. If so much as a bird approached the Palace, it would not make it in unmolested.
For the dozenth time since these patrols had been formed, the sounds of commotion broke out as there was an encounter outside. Many angry chirrups – some strategic orders, some warnings, and some just battle cries – reached Tooth's ear, and this time, they were rapidly followed by-
"WHOA!" a male voice cried out.
Oh, no! Toothiana realized with horror, jetting outside.
Though she flew at top speed and the scuffle wasn't far away, it was over before she made it. Rounding a ridge, the Guardian of Memories found exactly what she'd been afraid of; three patrol teams hovering around Jack Frost, looking various degrees of remorseful that they'd mistaken him for an enemy and attacked him. Jack, leaning against a rocky face, looked around at them, eyes blazing with disbelief as he caught his breath, refusing to let any of them get near him again even to apologize.
"What did you do?!" Tooth exclaimed, making them all jump.
Excuses began to fly from the little fairies' mouths – they'd panicked, Jack had slipped past their defences while they weren't looking, it was instinct, all they saw was a dark shape disappearing around a corner – but their creator didn't want to hear it.
"No, that's it!" she declared. "No more patrolling for you thirty! You're grounded, go to your hives! Now! Go on, shoo!"
Penitently, the fairies hung their heads and began to wing back into the Palace, wincing under Toothiana's hard look. A few others, however, came out to see what had transpired. Upon seeing her best friend, one of them whizzed over to his side, tweeting a happy greeting.
"Oh, hey, little Baby Tooth." Jack responded with a half-smile, not flinching at her approach. He gave her feathered head a pet with one of his fingertips. (It warmed Tooth's heart that Jack could tell her apart from the others.)
"I am so, so sorry about their behaviour." the female Guardian apologized, levitating closer. "I let them patrol, I didn't think they would get this carried away."
"'t's okay, I don't really blame them. Looks like they took the news about the nightmares pretty well."
Unsurprisingly, all the tiny fairies in earshot stiffened at the reminder. Despite her disapproval of the attack on Jack just now, Tooth cast them sympathetic looks.
"We just... don't want to be caught off guard like the last time." she excused. "Wait, has there been any change? Another attack?"
The calm and even optimism that she'd been projecting since yesterday began to fall apart, to her dismay. The truth was that the Guardian of Memories wasn't much more comforted by the knowledge that some of Pitch's nightmares were out there again than her helpers were. Even without Pitch (as far as anyone knew), one nightmare had gotten creative and caused immeasurable damage to Arendelle. What could several do? The possibilities made her anxiety spike, and her jump to conclusions.
"What? No." Jack quickly reassured her. "Not that anyone's told me."
"That's a relief..." Tooth breathed, soon letting a casual smile slip onto her lips. "And you let the kids know?"
"I did, and they know the drill. Faith and courage."
Fully placated, Tooth folded her arms across her chest and nodded.
"So what brings you by?" she asked.
Jack's relaxed expression wavered, and he visibly hesitated before answering.
"I need your help."
"Name it."
"I need you to look through some memories for me."
It took a few seconds' pondering, but Toothiana's fairies looked utterly shocked, their eyes going back and forth between one Guardian and the other. For very good reason, access to humans' memories via their boxes of teeth was extremely restricted. No matter who held such a box, only the person whose teeth were stored inside could view the attached memories. That was the official story that the fairies had been indoctrinated to tell. The Guardian of Memories' "special access" – her ability to view anyone's memories provided she was in physical contact with their box – had been a closely-guarded secret within the Palace for centuries. The fact that an outsider to their operation now knew about it as well was what stunned the fairies now.
That wasn't what made Tooth's eyebrows rise in surprise. She had, after all, been the one to tell Jack and the others about her secret ability about seven months ago. But she'd only told them because the situation at the time had forced her to tell the truth. That situation had been nothing short of agonizing for Tooth, and Jack knew it. For him to ask her to use it again, things had to be serious.
"Whose?" she asked.
"I dunno who." came the answer. "I know where. Exactly where. And I know they were there sometime in the thirteen thirties, or after. But that's really all I've got. Is it enough?"
Toothiana eyed her fellow Guardian for a long moment, weighing his need for her to do this against the privacy she granted memories as a rule. In the end...
"I've got a map inside." she answered. "Show me where."
Receiving a grateful nod, she banked right and swooped back into the Palace. She quietly told the fairies flanking her to return to work, putting one of them in charge, before heading down to the wall that a map of the world had been painted on. A gentle rustle near her ear and a subtle chill in the air told her that Jack now flew side by side with her.
"So what's this about?" she queried.
Once again, Elsa stood in front of a mirror, her reflection staring back at her. Or rather, at what she was wearing.
In the place of her typical crystal blue dress made of ice, she wore a dark taupe dirndl made of cotton. The corset top was fastened at the front by a short row of brass buttons, and beneath it, she wore a white blouse with sleeves that ended just below her elbows. A simple floral pattern encircling the bottom of the skirt was the only decoration of the entire ensemble, but even it was hard to see from the front with the long, burgundy apron tied around her waste. Below it, she wore a pair of white stockings and simple black slippers. From her shoulder hung a small, featureless purse, and atop all of this, she wore a dark green cloak complete with a hood she had yet to draw over her head. These were the least attractive clothes the Queen of Arendelle possessed, and she didn't especially enjoy wearing them.
That wasn't to say she thought the overall look was a bad one. Though these clothes were plain and far from fine, they were hardly ratty. Heaven knew she'd seen common women in Arendelle (and, thanks to her travels, much of Europe) wear them all the time, and they didn't seem to worry about it. Nor were they especially uncomfortable against her skin. It was just that, no matter how many dressed like this, it wasn't her. It wasn't Elsa.
But, she reminded herself, that was the point. These clothes weren't about self-expression; they were about blending in. Once her hood was up, the disguise would be complete, and she was confident no one would suspect she was royalty, much less the semi-infamous Queen of Arendelle.
Satisfied with this, she headed over to the closed door, and locked it, going over her alibi in her head. She'd informed Kai that she was holing up in here for the afternoon, and wished not to be disturbed. Jack wouldn't be back until tomorrow, provided no other magical catastrophes came up. Anna was out seeing a former castle matron, Olaf seemed to be busy with a project of his own at the moment, and Kristoff was up in the mountains until this evening. In theory, no one would ever suspect that she had left. Still, she hoped to take one more precaution.
Striding over to her desk, Elsa retrieved the snow globe from the drawer she'd stored it in while she'd gathered her disguise. Looking into its heart, she found it empty again.
"Right outside my study." she murmured into it, then gave it a shake.
Snow swirled around inside, and when it calmed back down, it was to reveal a view of the hall on the other side of her study's door – one in real time, no less, judging from the matron walking by without noticing anything amiss. Not only was the snow globe a quick means of transport, but also an excellent surveillance device. Elsa couldn't help but grin.
Lowering the snow globe, she took one more look around her study to ensure she wasn't forgetting anything. Her sweeping gaze ultimately found the basket of outgoing mail on the corner of her desk. Stacked inside it were letters, of course – including one that hadn't been there when she'd been in here last. Though, like the others, it lacked any postage at the moment, it was sealed and addressed. Elsa didn't know what was more interesting about the latter; the fact that it was written in Anna's unmistakeable scrawl, or that the recipient was Rapunzel, Princess of Corona.
In the months since Anna had made her first diplomatic trip to Arendelle's closest trade partner, she and Rapunzel had become very close friends. It wasn't hard to see why, given their matching bright and sociable dispositions, something Elsa had witnessed firsthand when she and Anna had attended Rapunzel's wedding last February. Now, they exchanged long, chattering letters on a near-monthly basis, but Elsa suspected that if there were a contraption that made spoken conversation at such a long distance possible, the two Princesses would have been on it much more often. She could only wish they'd met years earlier, so Anna might not have been so lonely in her childhood.
Hold on... she realized aloud. Didn't she just send Rapunzel a letter last week?
Despite her lonely upbringing, Anna wasn't the type to worry that she was being ignored just because someone hadn't written back to her yet. Chances were, her last letter might not even have reached Rapunzel yet. Why was she writing to her again so soon?
It didn't matter, Elsa decided. Whatever passed between her sister and Rapunzel was between the two of them, and she would respect that – even aid it if she could. Since she was going to Corona right now, she might as well deliver it herself and save some postage.
Taking and safely storing the letter in her purse, Elsa raised the snow globe, empty once more, again.
"Corona." she told it.
Without fail, the island kingdom once again filled the emptiness within the globe in a flurry of snow. Elsa brought her arm back to fling it... then paused and looked at it again. She could see the entire island from end to end in the snow globe – which placed her point of view somewhere out on the water. Was that where the portal would appear?
"In Corona." she specified, not wanting to take the chance.
It was bizarre to witness, but the view within the snow globe shifted, rushing into the kingdom as if it were the point of view of some high-speed bird. It zoomed neatly between buildings and down streets until finally coming to a stop. To its credit, it was on land. It was right in the middle of the courtyard outside the castle, where everyone would see a portal of multicoloured light appear.
"Somewhere discreet." Elsa added.
The image shifted again, rushing forward, turning corners, and swerving around obstacles – including people, who remained oblivious – until it ended up in a closet in the castle.
"Maybe not that discreet." Elsa corrected.
She almost wanted to think that the snow globe was getting frustrated as the view it displayed rushed out of the closet, the castle, the grounds, until it finally came to a stop in a deserted alleyway.
"Yeah, that'll do." Elsa decided aloud, then threw the snow globe into space easily.
It didn't even get the chance to hit the ground before it seemed to be swallowed up by the air itself. Space rippled like a pond after a stone had been thrown in it, but instead of calming down, it accelerated and churned until it was a whirlpool of multicoloured light. Admittedly, it didn't look like an especially safe way to travel, but Elsa knew otherwise from experience. Blowing out a reassuring breath, she walked up to the portal as if it were any other doorway, and didn't stop.
For one wild split second, she felt the universe give away around her, leaving nothing for her foot to step on, and she got the sense of falling, though she couldn't tell which way. But before she could even start to worry about it, reality settled down again, and her sole met solid stone. Millimetres behind her, the spiral of light and colour collapsed in on itself in the blink of an eye, leaving only the snow globe, which landed in Elsa's hands. She looked around.
Just as the snow globe had promised her, she'd arrived in that gap between two small buildings. Putting away the device, she drew up her hood and stepped into the afternoon light that was so much brighter here than it was in Arendelle. Between that and the majestic castle reaching into the sky only a few blocks away, there was no mistaking where she was. Elsa had made it to Corona.
"That's a relief..." she told herself in a calming exhalation. This had been her first time actually using a snow globe. With her inexperience and the many corrections she'd made, she wouldn't have been surprised if she'd ended up in the Sahara.
Elsa took another look around. Corona was just as she remembered it from her visit just months ago. Homes and businesses were noticeably packed more tightly together here than they were in Arendelle, probably because they had less space to work with. The streets were narrower, and many of them had archways overtop their entrances.
The weather was also much the same as it had been then, warm and sunny (Corona was famous throughout Europe for not changing much with the seasons). Even the ground itself here felt different than what she was familiar with did. The island Corona was built upon really was just a city-sized mound sticking up out of the sea. While buildings were constructed in such a way to counter this effect of its angles, she knew, this left almost every exterior path at least a little slanted. If one headed to the docks, it would be an easy downhill stroll. If one wished to go to the castle, they would be walking uphill. Even now, standing at the mouth of this alley, Elsa felt her left foot (the foot that was closer to the castle) was a few centimetres higher than her right. It was a stark contrast to Arendelle, which only got hilly, and therefore slanted, at its outskirts.
But while the land was very different from her own, the people were not. In this street alone, she saw some dozen milling about on one form of business or another. Looking one way, she saw an apparent fisherman enter a shop and to be met with a tailor. Another way, she sighted two patrons at a café's terrace receive their drinks from a waiter. They were all so familiarly ordinary in their appearances and behaviours, they could have been her own subjects. None of them showed any sign of witnessing a woman emerge from a hole in the fabric of spacetime, which was good for her.
Feeling the weight of both the snow globe and her purse, Elsa was reminded of the reasons she'd come here (she couldn't be blamed for forgetting momentarily – in seconds, she'd just made a trip that would take more than three days by ship); to look into the magic flower legend, and to deliver Anna's letter. Mentally weighing them, she admitted to herself which would likely be the easier task. From what Grand Pabbie had said, the legend of the magic flower was at least a few centuries old. Discovering its origin, its inspiration, probably wouldn't be easy, even with the help of local folklore experts. This would probably take at least a few visits, to her chagrin.
Of course... she encouraged herself with a smirk. I said the same thing about the last two steps, and look how easy they were...
Still, delivering Anna's letter to the nearby castle would no doubt be easier, she decided. Her heart set on getting that chore out of the way, Elsa began the trek toward the castle.
Before she even entered its adjoining courtyard, the castle gates opened. While Elsa paused at the sight, another woman just a little younger and more slender than herself strode out with a fearlessness reminiscent of Anna, the skirt of her lavender dress swaying with her steps. She stopped to enjoy the sunlight that caressed her beautiful face and the gentle breeze that rustled her short, brown hair. If Elsa squinted, she could even see a small, green reptile – the chameleon named Pascal – perched on her shoulder, something that made her grin. She'd come here looking to see Princess Rapunzel, and she'd found her.
"Well, this won't be hard." Elsa commented to herself, reaching for the letter in her purse.
And then it got hard. Rapunzel and Pascal weren't going out alone, as they were followed by an escort of two castle guards as they made their way down the steps.
Elsa backed around corner as the group approached and walked by, considering the situation. Though a cloaked, hooded woman wandering around wasn't terribly conspicuous to the local commoners, one approaching the crown Princess would certainly rouse the suspicion of the guards. One way or another, she would have to show her face, and even if they didn't recognize her, Rapunzel would inevitably blurt out her name. Word of such an encounter could ultimately make its way out, and eventually reach Arendelle – something she didn't want, hence the stealthy nature of her visit here. She needed to approach Rapunzel when she was alone, unlikely as that was to happen.
No, it's not that unlikely. Elsa corrected herself. They won't be flanking her every minute. They'll probably just wait by the doors if she goes into a shop or something.
Confident that such an opportunity would present itself, the Queen of Arendelle started patiently after the Princess of Corona.
Jack finally fell into silence as he finished telling Tooth about his exploits this past few days. He'd told her about his shocking morning on Monday, how he'd realized his immortal nature and Elsa's mortal one were destined to separate them forever, and how he'd vowed to stop that at all costs. He'd gone on to relate the events of his Tuesday visit to North, who'd told him about the Moon's – not the Man in the Moon's – ability to make people immortal like the Guardians themselves, and that some of its fragments here on Earth might still have it. He'd continued with Wednesday's progress of talking to Sandy, who had witnessed the arrival of such a fragment and passed on his location at the time to Jack.
And he'd concluded with today's small step forward. After leaving Burgess, he'd spent a few hours searching the area of central Africa that Sandy had specified. He'd found the impact crater, smoothed and faded after so many years – not to mention empty. Jack had dug desperately for another couple of hours, but there had been no sign of any rock that was obviously not from around those parts. The only things that had seemed out of place were a few primitive tools fashioned from bones and wood (one of which he'd even brought and shown Tooth). At that, the Guardian of Fun's suspicions had turned to the indigenous tribes. Someone among them must have taken an interest in the flaming stone from the sky, dug it up, and taken it home.
The question now was which. The glow of the Moonstone falling to Earth had been visible for miles around. Dozens of tribes could have witnessed it and, many of them being within walking distance of the impact site, come to investigate over the following days – or weeks, or months, or years. Between that, and not actually knowing what the Moonstone specifically looked like, Jack had no idea where to even start a manual search. That was when he'd remembered his fellow Guardian's way with memories.
Now, Jack waited patiently as that Guardian stared into space and digested his words. She hadn't interrupted with so much as one question at any point in the story, but then, that might just have been because the first scene had struck her so hard. The moment the bringer of winter had told her about his epiphany, all traces of pleasantness had disappeared into blank surprise that had yet to pass from Tooth. It was anybody's guess whether she had heard the rest. Her silence now reminded Jack of North's when he'd first broken the news to him. If they were any example, it seemed like all the Guardians would be taking the revelation of Elsa's finiteness like an unexpected attack.
I should really be getting used to these looks. he mentally commented, knowing there were still two other members of the team to clue in. I probably looked even worse when it was my turn.
Less than a minute had passed since he'd finished his retelling of his latest mission, but it already felt like many times that long. Not having that time to spare, Jack was almost ready to snap her out of-
Just then, Tooth shut her eyes, sighed, and reopened them, though she kept them low.
"When you came here last November..." she began, seeming a little defeated. "I'd hoped it would be at least a few years before we had this talk."
Jack furrowed his brow in confusion. "This talk"? "This talk", like it was the kind of conversation people had every day? She made it seem almost trivial, not to mention... expected. Had she been waiting to talk about Elsa's brief lifetime someday? But if that was the case, then... hearing about it couldn't have surprised her. She'd known about his Snow Angel's mortality all along, and she'd never shown any sign of it, least of all in front of her or him. It boggled his mind. All those talks and visits... formally meeting Elsa, the Guardians' apology to her and Anna, that dinner party... all those times, the knowledge that she was talking to someone doomed to die had been there in Tooth's mind, and stayed so concealed!
Had the others been thinking it, too? Jack had thought North was almost as shocked by the realization as he'd been – but maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd just been surprised to hear it come from him! Had they all had this in mind since Elsa had come into his life, and never mentioned it? How could they keep something like this from him? Jack was tempted to lash out and demand Tooth this. The only thing that stopped him was the thought that maybe she and the others had just been trying to spare his feelings until he found out about it himself.
Or maybe it's only obvious to people who aren't head over heels for her. he considered.
"So." Toothiana resumed neutrally, rising from the ground. "You've realized what the big difference between you and Elsa is."
It seemed like she in particular had just been sparing his feelings, a part of Jack deciphered. The rest of him just nodded solemnly as he stood.
"And you think you can fix it." the female Guardian went on, not sounding judgmental at all.
"Yeah." Jack eventually answered. "But I'll like my odds better if you lend a hand. So can I like 'em?"
"I'll help you if you're really set on this. I don't want to see you get hurt."
Jack gave a small grin and quiet sigh of relief, though he did notice Tooth didn't get to work yet.
"And I don't want to see you get hurt looking for something that might not be there." she continued, causing his smile to vanish.
"So what?" he retorted, trying not to let his anger rise up. "Should I just give up and take it lying down?"
"All humans do, eventually. I'll bet even you did."
Jack almost faltered at that suggestion. Between the immortal life that was all he remembered and all the rebellion he'd plotted against death itself in the last few days, it sounded so absurd that he would ever accept the end of mortal life.
"Not all humans know it's possible to fix that." he argued. "But we do. We're living proof of it!"
"We're very rare exceptions to the rule, Jack, and I made my peace with that a long time ago." came the counterargument. "I've had to."
Tooth's gaze wandered upward as she fell into silence, and she soon followed it. Curious, the younger Guardian didn't impede her, instead following her. What she was staring at turned out to be one of the huge pillars of the Palace that served as storage for the tooth boxes. Only their ends, emblazoned with the faces of the children whose teeth they contained, could be seen while they were in their respective slots.
"I've loved humans since... before I even stopped being one." Tooth explained gently, caressing some of these faces with her fingers. "And no matter how much I loved them, I've still had to watch them all grow up and pass on." She turned to Jack with a sad smile. "I'm seven and a half centuries old, Jack. I've made peace with humans' deaths."
She paused before saying one of the worst things Jack had ever heard in his life.
"I've made peace with Elsa's death."
This went beyond knowing that Elsa would die and not telling him about it. Tooth was talking like Elsa was already dead.
Not just like. he realized with horror. To her, she already is dead.
That truth stabbed into Jack like a white hot blade, its blistering heat spreading throughout him and destroying everything in its path. Tooth had said she didn't want to see him hurt, but she was causing him unimaginable pain now. Why?! What was the point?!
She didn't want him to get hurt looking for something that might not be there, he remembered. Whatever Tooth might believe about Elsa's death and salvation, what she was doing suddenly became clear. She was preparing him for the event that his quest failed.
And for the first time since embarking on it, Jack absorbed that possibility.
There really were no guarantees in this. At the moment, he had everything staked on finding the Moonstone Sandy had witnessed arrive, but what if it was gone forever? Then he would look for another Moonstone, but what if there weren't any? He would find another way to make Elsa immortal, but what if, except for the Man in the Moon, that didn't exist?
Then Elsa would live a long life, grow old, die, and take away his most important reason to exist – and that would be the best turnout.
Jack felt like a tug of war was being played inside him. On the one side was his self-appointed mission, filled with his determination but hemorrhaging more promise every minute. On the other was that terrible black void he'd first realized in Elsa's bedchamber a few days earlier, faced with his defiance but holding vastly more certainty. Neither side was losing yet, but it terrified him that he wasn't winning.
The idea of losing Elsa forever... how could anyone accept that?
"How..." he murmured.
Toothiana didn't reply.
"How did you make that peace?" Jack managed to communicate.
"Two ways." the Tooth Fairy answered. "One, I realized that if the end of my human life was part of the grand plan, then theirs are, too."
As odd as it was, Jack did quickly feel some comfort as he spotted truth in Tooth's words. If he hadn't died and become the eternal bringer of winter, he would never have joined the Guardians, helped save the world from Pitch, and met Elsa. Had he lived even a little longer and passed on in a different place or way, events might have played out very differenty. And while there had been a lot of loneliness in what had transpired, he wouldn't have changed even a second of it since it had brought him so much joy now.
Not feeling enough joy right this second, though, he had to ask.
"And what's the other way?"
Tooth sighed, her face sympathetic.
"I remember their times here." she answered simply. "I keep them... in loving memory."
Jack didn't respond, feeling no reassurance at all. He knew that memory was essentially all humans had to console themselves over the losses of their loved ones. In a way, even he had it. Though he couldn't really remember anyone from his human past, he still felt the love that he'd shared with his family at the time. Loving memory was strong enough to persevere through amnesia, the destroyer of memory itself. It lifted his spirits to have that.
But he couldn't bear to imagine what he had with Elsa now changed into that. There was no contest.
Clinging to that, Jack looked at Tooth again.
"Is that help still on offer?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice level, committed.
"It is." the fairy responded despite her evident sorrow. "But I have a question for you now. What does Elsa think of all this? What you're doing?"
After all the reminders to keep this from Elsa that he'd given himself this week, Jack felt all his dishonesty sear him. He needed to tell someone, even if it wasn't her.
"I haven't told her yet." he confessed.
The look Tooth gave him was inscrutable, but the bringer of winter immediately felt like he was being condemned.
"But..." he hastily, hopefully added. "... the other night, she told me that she wanted to be with me forever."
Tooth was unable to fight a sweet smile, ever a supporter of the two bringers of winter together.
"That's gotta mean something, right?" Jack hinted, half a grin of his own crawling onto his face.
"Are you sure she meant it?" the Guardian of Memories questioned uncertainly.
Jack's smile disappeared as insult slapped him harder than even another mythical being ever could.
Of course she meant it! his instincts called for him to snap at Tooth.
"Why wouldn't she?" was the innocent reply he settled on.
"Sometimes people can get carried away when they're caught in an emotional moment, Jack. Did she know what she was getting into?"
Contrary to what Tooth might have suspected, Elsa did have some idea what life as a being of living magic was like, Jack knew. He'd regaled her with so many of his experiences as one – from being invisible to so many to feeling like he lost a piece of himself when someone passed through him to long since outliving his human family – she had to at least understand it in theory. Not only was it giving up the chance at whatever the afterlife was like, but it was subjecting oneself to a variety of curses. More than any mortal, she was likely the most mentally forewarned, and therefore prepared, to live forever. That didn't necessarily mean she wanted to.
But he'd certainly thought she did. Elsa had certainly seemed to mean it when she'd wished to be with him forever, just as he'd meant it when he'd told her that she was his reason for being. And just because it had been an emotional moment before either had even spoken up didn't mean he hadn't meant what he'd been saying. He hadn't gotten carried away. Why should he have thought Elsa had?
... Because anyone could, he realized. He was just as capable of getting emotional and talking without thinking as anyone was, and so was Elsa, royalty or not. Sure, he hadn't been speaking thoughtlessly at the time, but that didn't mean Elsa hadn't. Kindred as they were, they weren't the same person. "I wish to be with you forever"... looking back on it now, coming from a human being, it sure seemed like an emotional response, not a rational one.
No... he told himself. No, she meant it... she meant it...
He looked at Tooth, who had waited quietly through his reflections, again.
"I'm not gonna make her immortal unless she really wants it." he promised. It was an indirect answer to her query, but the only one he could offer at the moment.
Tooth eyed Jack uncertainly for several long seconds before nodding, placated for now.
"Then I'll take a look through those memories." she finally said.
And Tooth turned, both literally and figuratively. Before her back was even fully facing the Guardian of Fun, she switched to her trademark business attitude of energetic, authoritative, and cheery, abandoning the subdued, sympathetic demeanour she'd been addressing him with in a heartbeat. However she felt about this favour she was being asked to carry out, she went right to work, summoning some miniature helpers and assigning them to gathering the tooth boxes of everyone who'd been to the area Jack had marked on her map in the entire thirteen thirties. If she didn't find what she was looking for in that decade, they would just keep searching forward through history until they found it, even if that meant going all the way to the present. The fairies were confused at this request, but carried out their orders regardless (Baby Tooth, of course, lead the way, knowing this would in some way help her best friend).
Nearby, Jack quietly enjoyed a big sigh, feeling drained. This borderline debate had taken more out of him than digging through the sand of hot central Africa for hours had. If he was learning anything from this search for eternal life for Elsa, it was that its emotional side was more taxing than the physical.
And now, he had another emotional step to prepare for; actually offering forever to Elsa. He'd been hiding this quest from her since the beginning, now the idea of telling her everything seemed almost foreign. The secrecy would finally be over, but once he had a guarantee that he could make her life eternal, he would finally have to ask her seriously if she wanted it. A lot of humans, he knew, would jump at the opportunity – but Elsa, having heard so much about it from him, might actually be afraid of what he went through every day...
She'll say yes. Jack reasoned with himself. Of course she'll say yes. She loves me. It'll be like asking her to marry me, why wouldn't she say yes? She's already said yes. She's said...
I wish to be with you forever.
Like he had after his meeting with Sandy yesterday, Jack retreated to those words for reassurance.
But this time, it didn't work as well as before.
Elsa ended up shadowing Princess Rapunzel for nearly half an hour – thanks in no small part to her bodyguard, the only ones to shadow her even more closely.
Music stores, book rooms, flower stands, art supply shops, Rapunzel stopped at many stalls and stepped into many stores, but at none of them did the guards decide to give her more space or to wait outside. Even when she went into the pet food depot to pick up some particularly creepy insects for Pascal's meals, one of the men managed to squeeze inside with her, undeterred by the business's lack of elbow room, its aroma, or its visuals. If nothing else, these men were diligent.
Ordinarily, Elsa would have commended them for that, but today, its inconvenience for her nullified any admiration. Though she hadn't been spotted as a tail yet, she hadn't been able to approach her quarry without drawing attention to herself, either. All she'd been able to do was follow the group from about twenty steps away, ultimately getting nothing done. Every so often, she subtly took out her snow globe and commanded it to display her study or the hall outside to ensure no one had discovered her disappearance. Thus far, she'd been lucky.
But that was where all her luck seemed to have been funnelled, leaving none for her chance to catch Rapunzel alone. A part of Elsa began to wonder if she'd been mistaken in assuming delivering Anna's letter would be easier than discovering the truth behind the Coronan legend.
Eventually, the Princess's errands took her, her reptilian friend, her bodyguard, and her pursuer to a marketplace deep in the village. The guards' eyes swept back and forth across the area for irregularities. It never dawned on them that one might come from within their circle.
Because Elsa's eyes were completely focused on Rapunzel, she saw just that – if only barely. She didn't get suspicious when Pascal crawled down from the Princess's shoulder, disappearing from her line of sight, but she did when he reentered it. The chameleon seemed to have clambered all the way down Rapunzel's front, changing colour along the way so that, when he hopped off her slipper, he almost perfectly blended in with the cobblestone ground. The guards never even noticed him skitter by their feet, but Elsa's eyes followed him all the way to the other end of the market, wondering just what he was up to. It only began to make sense when he disappeared into a rather precariously set up stack of items. If they were to become dislodged, it would at least make a loud noise.
Elsa swiftly returned her gaze to Rapunzel at that realization, determined not to lose track of her when what was bound to happen happened.
And it did. As one box seemed to inch its way out, the one atop it lurched, as did the next, and the next. The chain reaction lead to the entire pile toppling over, landing with a loud crash. There were a few cries of alarm, and sure enough, the guards looked toward the disturbance. One even decided to go investigate, while his partner stayed behind to shield the Princess from any related dangers. Both had their backs entirely to Rapunzel – who took her chance.
Elsa didn't realize the Princess had stopped at a tapestry and carpet vendor until she lifted one such rug hanging off the edge of the counter and scrambled underneath it. The rug fell back down to obscure her escape route, and she was entirely gone from sight. If she hadn't been watching the action sequence firsthand, Elsa would have lost her as well. Instead, she saw Rapunzel expertly sneak through a few stalls before disappearing into an alleyway. Deciding not to see how the guards reacted, Elsa hurried down a road parallel to the alley.
I guess I'm not the only royalty who can get away from her staff. she thought, impressed.
Rapunzel's escape didn't end with leaving the marketplace, she discovered. Had Elsa rounded the next corner a second later, she would have missed the Princess of Corona disappearing down a side street, and then another. The chase continued for several more rather confusing turns before ending in a small nook between several close-knit houses. There, as Elsa watched from around the corner, Rapunzel sat down on some crates, pulled off her footwear, and finally relaxed. Then, without even looking, she lifted her hand with its palm facing the clear sky, as if checking for rain. Elsa saw why a moment later; Pascal arrived at the edge of the roof over Rapunzel's head, and let himself fall into her palm. The amount of seeming ease with which they did this suggested this wasn't their first time doing it.
"For someone so small, you sure get around." the Princess commented to the lizard, offering her other hand. "Another daring escape."
Pascal responded by clapping his tail against her waiting palm as a high five.
"Well, I'd say we've got an hour or two before they find us. Whaddya wanna do?"
Elsa knew she had to speak up before her quarry decided.
"Your highness?" she called tentatively, stepping around the corner into sight.
Princess and chameleon both looked up at her arrival – and both looked thunderstruck at her identity when she lowered her hood.
"Elsa?" Rapunzel exclaimed, scrambling to her bare feet.
"Shhh!" Elsa hissed in response.
"Sorry, Queen Elsa?" It sounded so odd coming from someone so much like Anna, but it was still louder than the bringer of winter wanted it said.
"Shhh!"
Rapunzel opened her mouth again, then seemed to catch herself and awkwardly shut it, visibly perplexed and bemused. Elsa winced, not having wanted to address her potential future fellow queen so strictly. She blew out a calming breath and assumed her usual expression and posture of pleasant sophistication.
"I'm sorry, Princess." she apologized. "I didn't mean to be harsh. I was just hoping we could keep this between us."
Dumbfounded, Rapunzel spent a long moment blinking and opening and closing her mouth as she struggled to process the sudden turn of her day's events.
"Uhh... okay?..." she managed to get out.
"As sorry as I am for intruding on your day, it is good to see you again." Elsa went on professionally. "You look well."
"Um, and so do you, your..." Rapunzel started before sighing. "Okay, if we're just going to keep this between us, can we finally drop the formality and stop calling each other 'Princess' and 'Queen' and all that?"
Elsa couldn't help but smirk, approaching.
"If my sister has anything to say about it, I think we'll get to be on informal terms sooner or later anyway... Rapunzel."
"That's a relief." the Princess replied with a sigh. "It's nice to see you, too, Elsa! Here, pull up a chair, kick off your shoes!"
With the full intention of cultivating a good relationship with her, Elsa gingerly sat down on a stack of wooden boards near Rapunzel, but she drew the line at the latter, keeping her slippers on. For her part, Rapunzel reclined back into her own makeshift seat, all semblance of propriety gone. The only one who didn't relax was Pascal, eyeing Elsa distrustfully from his best friend's shoulder. After a moment's consideration, Elsa realized why. Reptiles weren't the biggest fans of the cold, and this one could probably sense its presence inside her. His instincts were kicking, and she couldn't blame him.
"Wait... how did you get here?" Rapunzel queried, confused. "I mean, maybe I don't always pay a lot of attention to royal stuff, but I think I would've remembered someone saying your ship was coming in."
"You're right, I didn't sail in." Elsa admitted, weighing how much she could say. "Let's just say I got to Corona the same way you got here. Well done escaping your escort, by the way."
"Oh, you saw that... Well, I learned how to disappear from the best of the best." The Princess tilted her head at Pascal. As if to prove her point, the suspicious chameleon's colours turned dark, blending almost perfectly with the alley. "Hey, did Anna come with you?"
"No, she doesn't know I'm here, either. But she sends you this."
Searching her purse, Elsa withdrew her sister's letter and held it out.
"Oh, another one?" Rapunzel remarked, pleasantly surprised. "I just got her last one yesterday. Thanks, Elsa!"
Elsa's only answer was a kind smile.
"So... I didn't know you were coming, my kingdom didn't know, and apparently Anna doesn't know. Are you... gonna tell me what's with all the sneaking around?"
Reluctantly, the Queen gave the Princess some answers. She admitted that Arendelle had suffered a disaster yesterday, though she kept its exact nature vague. It hadn't been another Great Thaw, she promised, but her advisors were still doing everything in their power to keep the news from getting out. What was more, they'd also discouraged her from making trips anytime soon, as her people were in need of a leader now more than usual. She neglected to mention that she was at least partially to blame for the disaster, or that she was being advised not to travel because the public's trust in her was consequently shaken.
"But you're here anyway." Rapunzel pointed out. "Are you here to ask for our help?"
"No, I think we'll be all right. I'm actually here on personal business." Elsa replied, starting to get up. "In fact, if I'm going to get home before anyone notices I'm gone, I should really get started on it."
"Well, maybe I can help with that instead. What's on your mind?"
Rapunzel got up and began to wriggle her feet back into her shoes as she spoke, visibly eager to offer her assistance. After only a second's hesitation, Elsa decided she could at least trust the Princess with another half-truth, silly as it might have sounded.
"I heard an old folktale recently, and I want to know if it's true." she stated. "You might have heard it, actually, because it comes from Corona. A story about a magic, golden flower?"
At those last three words, Rapunzel paused in the act of getting her other shoe on. A full second later, she turned to look at Elsa as if she'd just suggested marrying off her sister to Prince Hans after all. Her eyes lips were parted, and her green eyes were wide with shock, disbelief, even a touch of indignation. The only thing more amazing than that was Pascal mirrored her. Elsa faltered at this doubled expression, but before she could ask if she'd done to earn it, something else appeared in the Princess's eyes; suspicion. Under such a stare, she felt like she was being... evaluated.
"I'm... sorry. Have I said something wrong?..." she questioned tentatively.
The look in Rapunzel's eyes shifted ever so slightly, the seeming evaluation going on. Finally, she seemed to relax (Elsa hadn't even noticed her tense up), having reached a verdict.
"Well... I think I can save you some time, Elsa." she said. "That legend is definitely true."
As soon as Rapunzel's words settled into her mind... Elsa's eyes widened, her mouth dropped open, and she stopped just short of gasping in shock or laughing joyfully. A part of her marvelled at her good fortune or fate or whatever was making her search so easy. For the third time in its run, an answer had shown itself without difficulty at practically her first attempt to get it. But the rest of her was overcome with hope and relief.
The story was fact! The flower existed! A native of Corona had confirmed as much! She could become immortal! The chance to be with Jack forever was almost within her reach!
"So it's true!" the Queen blurted, tears gathering in her eyes and a grin seizing full control of her mouth. "There really is a flower that can grant eternal life! Where is it?"
"It's right here." Rapunzel answered, looking strangely uneasy, somewhere between smiling and wincing. "You're talking to it."
All of Elsa's hope and elation came to a near-stop in a fraction of a second. Quietly, she made efforts to keep them ploughing forward, but it was for nothing. Though she didn't understand the meaning of the Princess's words, her tone didn't hint at her goal being close at hand.
"I... I'm sorry?..." she asked uncertainly.
If some part of her hoped Rapunzel would correct herself, hastily clarify that there was still a chance, and apologize for giving her the wrong idea, that part would have been greatly disillusioned. The Princess of Corona only added a strain of sympathy to her unsettled expression, as if to lessen the blow of her following words.
"You should probably sit back down." she advised.
Somewhat clumsily, Elsa lowered herself back onto her makeshift seat, still reeling from how abruptly her hopes had been arrested. Disoriented, she looked at Rapunzel and listened intently. But before the explanation could even begin, she already felt like she'd been sent back to the drawing board.
Author's note: I can almost hear so many of you crying "Finally! Elsa finds out what happened to the flower! Been waiting for this letdown since the troll scene!" Well, there you go. Hope you're happily underwhelmed. But I digress.
Elsa, Jack, Olaf... the realization of mortality seems to be going around lately. You know, I almost regret not writing the talks about Olaf's feelings toward Marshmallow's death. That might've been interesting.
On that note, though, out of curiosity, let me ask the hard questions. How old were you when you really grasped that one day, you would die? How did you take it? Have your thoughts on it evolved along the same basic track since then, or have they taken a turn? If you're religious, did that have an effect on any of it?
Mind you, if this is personal stuff I shouldn't be asking about, then my bad, don't tell me. I don't always know what's appropriate to talk about publicly. Religion, politics, yada yada...
On an entirely different note, as of the writing of this chapter, it has only recently come to my attention that in Tangled's spin-off cartoon that I've never watched, Rapunzel gets her magical hair back fairly early on. I suppose I'm not really surprised, but because of the way things have been written so far, I think it's needless to say that said TV series is not canon to the Snow & Frost timeline.
You know, originally, I was going to have Anna hand her letter directly to Elsa to take to Corona, as well as keep everyone ignorant to her little getaway for her like the good little sister she is. But because of that, it ultimately turned into a bit of a moving, sisterly scene – which I couldn't afford due to the events of the next chapter. I'm sure at least a few of you can guess where this is going, but read on to see.
And speaking of the next chapter, there's something you should probably know; I've gotten a bit more creative than usual with one of its scenes. I'm not going to say what I've done and spoil it, but let's just say that it's going to require a bit more imagination from the reader than usual. See, because of its very nature, I had to keep the word count to a minimum – which, I'm sure my longtime readers realize, goes against my habit of detailed description. So this time, you're going to have to fill in the blanks. Sorry if it doesn't work, hurray if it does.
Mikaelus, November 7th, 2024