Snow Queen of Burgess: A Very Frozen Christmas
The Christmas season sparkled through the Town of Burgess. Lights glimmered in every house, wreaths hung proudly on every door, and the air was alive with the sound of carols and children's laughter. The children cherished no time of year, and no one enjoyed it more than Jack Frost.
Perched atop a rooftop, Jack let the calm winter wind carry him as he spun his staff, sending delicate flurries of snow cascading over his old hometown. His laughter echoed across the rooftops as snowflakes twirled like tiny, icy dancers.
"Snow day!" he called out, his voice light with mischief.
Jack landed gracefully on the roof's edge, planting his staff beside him. Below, the town square stretched out like a picture-perfect holiday postcard. The giant Christmas tree stood at its center, its branches laden with ornaments that glimmered like jewels. A golden star shone brightly at its peak, catching the moon's faint light. Around it, Burgess bustled with holiday cheer: children skated on the frozen pond, others threw snowballs in friendly combat, and the homes surrounding the square were adorned with lights that blinked in every color.
Jack's lips curled into a smirk. "North's got his work cut out for him this year," he murmured. Every single kid in this town made the Nice List. I guess I'll have to shake things up a bit.
With a flick of his staff, shimmering frost spiraled into the air, glittering under the moonlight like scattered stardust. The frost zipped across the ice rink, sending skaters wobbling and shrieking with laughter. One boy spun in a circle, his arms flailing as he toppled over with a thud, while his friends doubled over laughing.
"You're welcome!" Jack called from above, grinning.
As Jack surveyed his work, his gaze softened. There was something different about Burgess this year—something more vibrant, more alive. He couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. This was once his home when the town had known him as just a boy. Back when snow days had been his favorite gift.
His thoughts drifted like the snowflakes falling gently from the sky. For all its magic and merriment, Burgess still felt incomplete. He leaned on his staff, tilting his head thoughtfully as he stared at the glowing tree.
"She'd love this," he murmured.
She always found beauty in the quietest moments of winter. Jack could picture her now, standing with her head tilted back, watching the snowflakes fall. "Every one of them is unique," she'd say, her voice soft but certain. He missed her calm presence, her ability to make even the coldest night feel warm.
But she wasn't here—not this year. Since she had become pregnant with their baby, Elsa had been confined to their palace in the North Mountain in Norway.
Jack sighed, the faintest hint of a smile lingering on his lips. Then, with a shrug, he straightened up, his grin returning. "No use sulking. I've got snow to spread and chaos to cause."
With a burst of laughter, he launched himself back into the air, his staff trailing frosty magic behind him. The night was young, and Burgess wasn't ready for all the winter surprises he had in store.
As Jack soared over the rooftops, a flicker of movement below caught his eye. He paused mid-flight, hovering effortlessly on the winter breeze, and spotted a familiar group of kids trudging through the snow, sleds in hand. A grin spread across his face.
"Jamie!" Jack called, his voice carrying over the crisp winter air.
The kids froze, their heads snapping up as they spotted him. Jack dove down, landing lightly before them, his staff slung casually over his shoulder.
"Jack!" Jamie exclaimed, his face lighting up with excitement.
"Hey, kiddo!" Jack greeted, ruffling Jamie's hair with a gloved hand. "Where are you guys off to?"
"We're heading to the hills to go sledding," Jamie explained, holding up his sled. "A bunch of our friends from school are meeting us there."
"Sounds like fun," Jack said, nodding. His breath swirled in the cold air, but his tone was warm.
"You gotta come with us!" Jamie insisted, his eyes bright with excitement. "You and Elsa could make that awesome ice track again!"
The other kids chimed in eagerly, their voices overlapping as they recalled the last time Jack and Elsa had joined them. The memory of the shimmering ice tracks weaving down the snowy hills was still fresh in their minds.
But as their chatter grew louder, their enthusiasm faltered. A glance around revealed that Elsa—and the forest spirits who often accompanied her—were nowhere to be seen.
"Hey… where is Elsa?" Pippa asked, her brows furrowing.
Jack shifted awkwardly, glancing to the side as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh… about that…" He trailed off, searching for the right words. "I wish we could, Jamie. Really. But Elsa couldn't come this time."
The kids exchanged nervous glances.
"What do you mean?" Pippa pressed, her voice tinged with concern. "Is she okay?"
"Oh, yeah, she's fine," Jack said quickly, raising his hands to reassure them. "It's just… well, there's something that Elsa and I are dealing with right now." He hesitated momentarily before giving Jamie a gentle pat on the shoulder. "But don't worry about it, okay? She's doing great."
Jamie's smile faded slightly, but he nodded, sensing there was more Jack wasn't saying. "Okay…"
Jack glanced up at the sky, the mischievous twinkle in his eye dimming just a little. "Speaking of which," he said, his tone softening, "I've got to finish up here in Burgess and get back to her soon." He gave them a playful smirk. "Sorry, kiddo. You'll have to tackle those hills without me this time."
Jack leaped into the air, a burst of frosty magic trailing behind him. The kids watched as he disappeared into the snow-dappled sky, their sleds forgotten momentarily.
"What do you think he meant by 'something they're dealing with'?" Pippa asked, her voice quiet.
Jamie shrugged, his expression thoughtful as he gazed at the spot where Jack had vanished. "I don't know," he said. "But it must be important."
"Yeah," Monty chimed in. "He didn't even prank us this time."
The group fell into a contemplative silence, their curiosity lingering in the frosty air. But soon, Jamie hefted his sled with renewed determination.
"Come on, guys," he said. "Let's hit the hills. Jack wouldn't want us to miss out on the fun."
With a chorus of agreement, the kids trudged on, their laughter slowly returning as they made their way toward the slopes.
Elsa stood on the icy balcony of her palace, gazing out over the vast expanse of the Great Mountains. The peaks glittered under the pale light of the winter sun, their icy slopes cascading into the endless horizon. Snowflakes swirled lazily in the wind, carried from the storms Jack had sent over the northern lands. He had certainly outdone himself this time.
Stretching out her hand, Elsa watched as a single snowflake drifted down, delicate and perfect. It landed softly in her palm, melting almost instantly against her warm skin. A small smile tugged at her lips. The snowflake reminded her of her childhood—those fleeting, magical winters when she and Anna would rush outside to play in the snow, their laughter echoing through the courtyard. The snowmen they built, the snowball fights, the sense of freedom that came with a world blanketed in white.
It felt like a lifetime ago now. So much had changed—her life, purpose, and the way she saw the world. She was no longer just Elsa, the girl who had once feared her powers. She was the Snow Queen, a Guardian of Childhood, and soon, she would step into an even more significant role: a mother, with Jack Frost by her side.
Her hand drifted to the railing, the ice beneath her fingertips smooth and cold. She peered toward the horizon, her gaze distant, her heart full. She had been waiting for Jack to return. He had taken on so much since she had come to bear their child. The world still needed its winter mischief, snow days, ice storms, frosted windows, and playful flurries. Jack had taken it upon himself to ensure none of that magic was lost, even as Elsa stayed behind, their child growing within her.
She sighed softly. She wished to be with him now, especially as Christmas drew near. It was one of Jack's busiest times of the year but also the most joyous. She imagined him in Burgess, spreading snowflakes over the town, delighting the children with his playful antics. She could almost hear his laughter in the wind.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle flutter from within.
Elsa's breath caught, and she glanced down, her expression softening. Another flutter came—a tiny, almost invisible kick. She placed her hand over her growing belly, her palm warm against the soft curve that had grown steadily over the past few months.
A smile blossomed on her face, her heart swelling with love. "You're just as impatient as your father," she whispered, her voice barely louder than the wind.
The baby kicked again, and Elsa chuckled softly. She stroked her belly gently as though calming the little one inside. "Don't worry," she said, her voice full of warmth and reassurance. "He'll be home soon. And one day, you'll see the snow just like I did—like he makes it. Beautiful and wild and free."
The Snow Queen's peaceful thoughts were interrupted by a soft squeak and a faint scratching sound. Over the icy railing, Bruni appeared, climbing up with nimble little legs. His blue-and-purple body shimmered like frost in the pale light, and tiny puffs of steam escaped his nose as he huffed in curiosity.
Elsa chuckled softly, watching as the fire spirit scrambled onto the balcony, his head tilting with concern.
"I'm fine, Bruni," she said gently, crouching to stroke his smooth, cold skin. Bruni let out another soft squeak, blinking up at her with wide, trusting eyes.
"She's just a little impatient, that's all," Elsa added with a smile, her hand drifting back to her belly.
At the mention of the baby, Bruni's head perked up. The tiny salamander padded closer, sniffing curiously at her stomach as though sensing the life growing within her. Elsa laughed at his antics, a bright, joyful sound that carried on the frosty wind.
There was no doubt in her mind that the baby was a girl. She didn't need a magical revelation or some grand sign—she simply knew. Jack had felt the same. The moment she had told him they were expecting, his face had lit up with an excitement that rivaled the brightness of the Northern Lights.
"She's going to be perfect, isn't she, Bruni?" Elsa whispered, her voice soft and full of wonder.
Bruni chirped in agreement, curling his little body into her lap for warmth. Elsa's fingers moved absentmindedly over his back, her gaze drifting back to the horizon. Jack had been the first to say it aloud—that their baby would be a girl. He had been so sure of it, his conviction so full of hope and joy, that Elsa hadn't even thought to argue.
"He's already planning snowball fights and teaching her to skate," she murmured, smiling. "And I'm sure he'll insist she can wield frost magic before she can even walk."
Her laughter faded into a quieter moment of reflection. Elsa's thumb brushed lightly over her belly, her touch tender. "But what if she doesn't have magic?" she asked softly, the question more for herself than for Bruni.
The tiny salamander chirped again, nuzzling closer, and Elsa felt her heart steady. It didn't matter, she reminded herself. Their child didn't need magic to be extraordinary. She would be loved no matter what—by her mother, her father, and an entire world that had already embraced the wonder of winter.
Bruni let out a contented squeak, his tiny body warming Elsa's lap. She smiled down at him, her hand brushing lightly over his back. "You'll protect her too, won't you?" she teased, and Bruni puffed out his chest with an almost comical determination. Elsa chuckled.
"She'll love you," Elsa said with certainty. "How could she not?"
The wind swirled again, carrying snowflakes across the balcony in a gentle dance. Elsa tilted her head back, letting the snow kiss her cheeks. The baby shifted inside her once more, a tiny, reassuring flutter. "I hope she loves the snow as much as I do," Elsa whispered, her voice almost lost in the wind.
Bruni snuggled closer, his warmth a comforting contrast to the icy air. Elsa closed her eyes for a moment, letting the peacefulness of the moment settle around her. Soon, Jack would return, bringing his playful energy and love back to the palace. And soon after, their little family would grow, filling these snowy halls with laughter and life.
But for now, she waited—content, hopeful, and warmed by the tiny flame of love that had already taken root within her.
The snowflakes began to fall more heavily now, swirling around the balcony like a winter waltz. Elsa closed her eyes, letting the icy wind caress her face, her fingers resting protectively over her stomach. Jack would return soon, she knew. He always did.
Until then, she would wait—here, in the quiet of her icy sanctuary, where love and life bloomed even in the coldest winters.
As if in reply to her thoughts, Elsa heard a series of playful chirps overhead. Gale swirled through the frosty air, her breezy voice carrying a melody of excitement. Before Elsa could fully process the sound, a familiar, jubilant laugh echoed across the icy peaks, making her heart leap in her chest.
She turned quickly, her gaze lifting to the sky. There he was.
Jack Frost soared through the air, his staff in hand, a streak of frost trailing behind him like a comet. Gale weaved and danced around him, guiding him through the currents of winter's wind. As he neared the palace, Jack performed a final, dramatic spin before landing gracefully on the balcony, frost spiraling outward from where he touched down.
"Jack!" Elsa exclaimed, her voice breaking with joy.
Without hesitation, she closed the distance between them, leaping into his arms. Jack caught her effortlessly, spinning her once before holding her close. His arms were calm and steady, and Elsa felt entirely at ease for the first time in what felt like forever.
"Hey, Snowflake," Jack said softly, his breath curling in the crisp air. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."
Elsa pulled back just enough to look up at him, her smile radiant. "You're here now. That's all that matters."
Jack's grin softened, and his eyes flickered down to her belly. His playful demeanor melted into something gentler, more tender. Slowly, he knelt, resting his head lightly against her stomach. The relaxed strands of his snowy-white hair tickled her as his voice softened.
"How's our little princess doing?" Jack asked, his tone full of warmth.
Elsa touched his head, her fingers brushing through his hair. "She's fine, Jack," she replied with a laugh. "But I think she might be getting a little impatient for Daddy to come home."
Jack chuckled, his smirk returning as he leaned in closer. "Oh, is that so? Well, Daddy's sorry for keeping your mama waiting," he said, speaking directly to her belly. "I'll try to be quicker next time, princess."
The baby shifted slightly, and Elsa felt a small flutter beneath Jack's cheek. His eyes widened, and a look of pure wonder crossed his face.
"Was that—?!"
Elsa nodded, laughing softly. "She kicked. She's just saying hello."
Jack rested his hand gently over Elsa's belly, a boyish grin lighting up his face. "Hi there, little one. I'm home."
After a moment, Jack straightened up, cupping Elsa's face in his hands. His blue eyes met hers, sparkling with affection. "Sorry for taking so long," he said, his tone growing severe. "I was finishing up in Burgess. The kids were great. Jamie says hi, by the way."
Elsa smiled, leaning into his touch. "You always take such good care of them. It's one of the things I love about you."
Jack smirked, tilting his head. "Only one of the things?"
She laughed, lightly swatting his arm. "Maybe I'll make a list," she teased.
"Oh, good," Jack quipped. "I'll expect it on my desk by morning."
They both laughed, their breaths mingling in the frosty air. The two stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's presence, with Gale swirling softly around them and the snow falling gently from the sky.
"You should've seen it, Elsa," Jack said, his voice brimming with excitement. "Burgess has this huge tree set up right in the middle of the square. It's all decorated—lights, ornaments, the works! And the kids? They're loving it."
"Oh?" Elsa tilted her head, smiling as she listened.
Jack nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! The whole town is getting ready for their Christmas festival. They do it every year on Christmas Eve. They've got carolers, stalls selling hot cocoa, families coming together—it's like a scene out of one of North's snow globes."
As Jack spoke, Elsa couldn't help but be drawn into his words. She imagined the twinkling lights, the laughter of children, and the festive spirit Jack described so vividly. It all sounded so magical.
It had been so long since she'd truly celebrated Christmas. Once, it had been her favorite time of year. The warm glow of candles, the crisp chill of winter air, and, most of all, the joy of spending it with Anna. A memory stirred: the two of them as little girls, sneaking downstairs to peek at the gifts under the tree, giggling as they tried not to wake their parents.
But that was another life that felt as distant as the stars above the mountains. The last time she had celebrated Christmas was long ago… before everything changed. Before Anna was gone.
Slowly, Elsa's smile faded, her gaze dropping to the icy floor of the balcony. Her hands instinctively drifted to her belly, as if grounding herself in the present. Jack, ever attuned to her, noticed the shift immediately.
"El?" he asked, his voice softening.
Elsa quickly lifted her head, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, uh… nothing," she said, her tone too light, too quick.
Jack wasn't fooled. He stepped closer, his staff resting casually against his shoulder, though his expression was filled with concern. "Come on, El," he said gently. "I know that look. You can talk to me."
Elsa hesitated, her lips parting as though she might say something, but the words caught in her throat. She glanced away, the weight of the memories pressing down on her. After a moment, she turned and walked back into the castle, her steps slow and deliberate.
Jack lingered for a second, watching her retreat with curiosity and worry. Then, tucking his staff against the balcony railing, he followed her inside.
Elsa had stopped in their bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hands rested lightly on her lap, her head bowed slightly. Snowflakes drifted in through the open doorway, settling on the icy floor before melting into nothing.
Jack crouched in front of her, his expression soft. "El?" he asked again, his voice quiet.
She lifted her gaze, meeting his concerned blue eyes. There was no avoiding it now. Slowly, Elsa exhaled, her shoulders slumping as she let the mask drop.
"I was just thinking about all the Christmases I spent with Anna," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jack's expression softened even further, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. "Oh, El…"
Elsa tried to keep her composure, but the weight of the memories pressed harder. "Christmas was always her favorite," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "She'd drag me out of bed so early—way before sunrise—because she couldn't wait to open presents. And she'd sing carols… even when she forgot half the words. She'd always find a way to make it magical, no matter what."
A small, bittersweet smile crept onto Elsa's lips as the memories flooded back. But the smile faltered, and her gaze dropped again. "I miss her, Jack. I miss her so much."
Jack didn't speak right away. Instead, he shifted closer, resting his hands on hers. His touch was calm but steady, grounding her. "I know you do," he said softly. "And I know she'd want you to hold onto those memories, not push them away."
Elsa looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's hard, Jack. Every Christmas… I feel like something's missing. And this will be the first Christmas I'll celebrate without her."
Jack nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I get that," he said after a moment. "But you know, El… maybe this Christmas can be different. It's not about forgetting Anna—never that—but about making new memories. For her. For us. For…" He glanced meaningfully at her belly and smirked softly. "…our little princess."
Elsa's hand instinctively rested over her stomach again. She let his words sink in, her heart aching and warming at the thought.
"New memories," she repeated, her voice quiet but steadier now.
Jack smiled, lifting her hand and brushing a soft kiss against her knuckles. "She'd want you to be happy, El. And I bet she'd love the idea of you passing all that Christmas magic to someone new."
A small laugh escaped Elsa, light but genuine. "She would, wouldn't she? She'd probably insist on a Christmas tree in every room."
"Now that's a tradition I can get behind," Jack teased, his grin returning. "And don't worry, I'll handle the lights. I'm an expert at freezing them into place."
Elsa rolled her eyes, but a smile crept across her face. The heaviness in her chest didn't vanish entirely, but Jack's presence—his love and warmth—made it easier to bear.
"Thanks, Jack," she said softly.
"Anytime, Snowflake," he replied, squeezing her hand.
Jack pulled Elsa close to him, holding her tight. Elsa, in turn, learned into his embrace. In the moment, Jack pondered just what he could do to cheer up Elsa. Suddenly, an idea came to him.
"I think I might know how we can get started," Jack insisted.
Elsa lifted her gaze to meet his.
"How about we start planning the biggest, snowiest Christmas this palace has ever seen?" Jack insisted.
Elsa smiled, her heart feeling lighter. "I think Anna would love that."