AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey again, everybody! Thank you SO MUCH to the people that saw my last note and have filled out reviews! With the traffic counter thingy down-and apparently, with PM'ing down, too-reviews are still, currently, my only way of gauging audience reaction. Therefore, I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me know A) if you're even reading this, and B) if you're liking where it's going! This chapter gets a bit sad, but happy times are still coming back. Have a fantabulous day!

CONTENT WARNING: Brief discussion of sexual assault, implied reference to child abuse

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21: NOT SIR

"Hi."

Jack looked up. Queen Anna, her arms crossed over her chest, was suddenly standing in front of him, next to the door of Elsa's room. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

He stood up, pulling his hood off his head. "Um… hey."

The queen closed her eyes, drawing in a long breath. Then, she looked up into his face. "Elsa told me what happened," she said quietly. "I mean, with the king of Hordalunde."

Jack bit his lip, sticking his hands into his front pocket. "How's she doing?"

"It's starting to sink in," Anna sighed. "She's been crying for about an hour, now."

"It was only a matter of time."

She nodded, staring at the ground. Then, uncrossing her arms, she let out a long sigh.

"I—I guess I owe you an apology," she stammered. "I misjudged you."

"It's okay—you don't have to OOF!"

Jack stumbled back a step as the pregnant young queen flung her arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as she could over her enormous stomach.

"You saved my sister," she whispered intensely, right next to his ear.

"It wasn't a big deal."

Anna let him go, taking a step back. "If you had a sister, you'd understand."

"Anna, I did have a sister."

Her eyes widened, her breath catching. Jack then watched as she clapped her hand over her mouth. "I—I'm so sorry," she blurted, blushing.

Jack shrugged. "You're fine," he said, "But—yeah, I understand. My sister was everything to me, before—"

He stopped abruptly.

Before I died, he thought, looking into Queen Anna's earnest face, Yeah, you probably don't need to know that little detail about me yet.

"Did she…pass on?" Anna prompted softly.

Technically, yes. About 70 years after I did. Jack nodded, pressing his lips together.

"Oh, Jack," she sighed. "I am so—"

"—It's okay. It was a long time ago," he interrupted. "But, um—Elsa—?"

"—You can marry her now. If you want."

Jack raised his eyebrows, letting out a short bark of laughter in spite of himself. The statement seemed so out of place.

"Oh—um," he chuckled, "Thank you, Anna. But do you think she's—?"

Anna bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah. You can probably go in, now. If you want to see her."

Jack nodded, leaning onto his staff. Then, as he was about to reach for the door handle, Anna leapt in front of him again.

"Just so you know," she blurted, "Elsa's not usually like this."

"How do you mean?"

"Well…" Anna's voice trailed off. "Um… crying every two hours."

Jack shrugged. "She's had a really intense couple of days."

"So have you," Anna said quietly. "But you haven't—well—broken down. I mean, you haven't, like, cried, or anything. You know?"

Bless you, Kristoff, Jack thought.

"Nah," he lied, "But that's—different."

"How?"

"It just is."

He reached for the door again. Giving a tiny oh, the redheaded queen took a step back, getting out of his way.

"Good luck," she stammered, "By the way. With her."

He found himself smiling weakly again. "Yeah. Um—thanks, Anna."

Jack then silently turned the doorknob, pushing it in and entering the room.

.

.

Sitting on the floor of her room, Queen Elsa hugged her knees to her chest, letting the tears roll freely down her face as flurries of snow fell silently onto the carpet around her.

Now that it was sinking in what had happened—now that the shock had passed—she felt so broken. How could King Edvin have said those things? Were they really true? Maybe she really couldn't rule as well as a woman…

Elsa shook her head vigorously, as if trying to shake out the thought from her mind. Her arm was still tingling with the memory of where he had grabbed her, like it somehow wasn't really her own anymore.

Like nothing on her body was.

As soon as Jack had taken her back to her room and found Anna, Elsa had rummaged through the back of her seldom-used wardrobe and found a dress from before her coronation. Forgoing her standard icy sheath and the day's adventurous single inch of cleavage, she had now opted for a thick woolen dress, dyed navy blue, with a high collared-jacket and full, ankle-length skirt—topped, of course, with her mother's shawl, which she clutched tightly around her shoulders. Elsa knew that she had an extremely curvy body, especially in her hips, and she had never felt so self-conscious of it in her entire life. Perhaps, she had initially thought, if she could simply hide it more, with the thicker, more "innocent" outfit, she would feel safer. Perhaps the tailored jacket and full, ankle-length skirt could let her feel less… dirty.

It hadn't helped.

She shifted uncomfortably in the dress, the wool scratching against her skin. Oh, she had forgotten how much she'd hated the material. This woolen dress was heavy. Constricting. Nothing like her ice. As much as she loved the glistening detail of her ice dresses, and the attention she received from the press for wearing them (which didn't at all hurt for her royal branding), it wasn't just the look that inspired the Snow Queen to create new pieces every morning. In Elsa's eyes—as silly as it may have seemed—even better than the crisp, light feeling that her ice fabric brought, ice fabric felt like freedom.

But freedom was dangerous. Normally, this wasn't enough to deter her, because she was confident enough in her power to know that she could easily fend off any attack that this danger might bring. She had her magic to protect her. But now, she'd learned that there were attacks that she couldn't defend herself against. How could she be confident in her own power, when confronted with the terrifying prospect that her power might be an illusion?

Your—lovely—companionship, he had said, eying her up and down. You are very beautiful, Queen Elsa… and also, very young…

Elsa looked down at her stomach, feeling the unfamiliar weight of the gown and clutching her mother's shawl even tighter around her body, hugging her knees to her chest. She did feel young. Very young, and very powerless. And as for her so-called beauty, she didn't particularly want to feel beautiful for anyone, for a very, very long time.

Your… femininity, his voice played in her mind.

Shut up! Elsa thought desperately, sucking in her breath and shaking her head again, Shut! UP!

Somewhere from across the room, the door of her bedroom opened with a long creak. A long, slender shadow fell across the carpet in front of her, and as she heard the door close again—without hearing the sound of any footsteps—she didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Elsa felt herself stiffen against the wall as he silently walked over towards her. She squeezed her eyes shut determinately, unsure of how to feel, as Jack Frost carefully placed his staff on the ground, then leaning against the wall and sliding down next to her. In her peripheral vision, Elsa saw that he'd pulled up his hood, a clump of his white hair sticking out of the front of it.

They sat in silence.

After a few minutes had passed, Jack hesitantly scooted closer to Elsa on the floor. She had looked up, finding her own eyes staring into his piercingly blue ones. He gingerly began to put his arm around her, and she had inched closer to him in response, saying nothing, but accepting it. He then held her for a few more minutes in the silence as she cried uncontrollably, the two of them sitting together in her gathering snowdrifts.

Does that mean… it will melt off of you… under the warmth of a man's touch? King Edvin's voice played in her mind.

Elsa let of an involuntary sigh of relief, feeling Jack's arms around her. Not this man's touch, she thought to herself. His arms, feeling strangely familiar to her after only two days, were beautifully, and reassuringly, cold.

So, so beautifully cold.

Elsa finally felt the tears beginning to slow, her breaths coming in more regular and controlled intervals.

"Jack…"

He took his arm off of her, helping her up. Elsa accepted his hand, sitting back into her place on the carpet, surrounded by snow. She stared at the ground in his direction, still not making eye contact as she messily wiped her arm across her face.

"Yeah?" he asked softly.

"I—I threw you out," she shook, "And then—well, I guess I'm just—Jack," Elsa stammered, finally looking up into his eyes, "Why'd you come back for me?"

He drew in his breath. Elsa gulped, her eyes wide as she looked into his face. It was filled with pain, poorly hidden, as he struggled to find the right words.

"You—um—you're not going to understand how much that cut me," he admitted, "Well—earlier today. When you walked through me. But," Jack paused, shaking his head, "Elsa—I don't hate you. I wasn't about to walk off and leave you alone with that creep."

"Maybe if I'd worn something different," she stammered, "If my dress was too—"

"—Oh, yeah, THAT'S the problem," he scoffed, "You look like a girl. How dare you."

He rolled his eyes, then shaking his head and staring forward again. Reaching out his foot for the staff on the carpet, he kicked it into his hand, then setting its end on the floor and beginning to absent-mindedly turn it, the curved hook spinning in the air above them.

Pulling in her breath, Elsa fidgeted with her fingers.

"So—um," she asked hesitantly, "You—you think my ice clothes are okay?"

He shrugged. "Are they a part of who you are?"

"I suppose so."

Jack caught the staff, looking to her and raising his eyebrows.

"Then you tell me," he said quietly.

Elsa let out her breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit.

"And besides, I—um," Jack added, letting out a nervous laugh as he began to spin the staff again, "I—think it's kind of amazing. Actually. That you can even do that."

"You really think so?"

"I have never seen ice like yours," he said, catching the staff again and letting it fall back towards them, the top of the shepherd's crook resting against the wall. "And I have seen—a lot—of ice."

Nodding, Elsa bit the edge of her lip, scooting an inch closer to him.

"Oh—and—um—and between you and me," Jack added, picking up the edge of her cuff and raising an eyebrow, "I don't think that the Snow Queen of Arendelle would be caught dead wearing something as drab as wool."

Elsa looked up to realize that Jack's face was suddenly right next to her own, his usually piercing blue eyes soft as he gazed into hers. She blushed, laughing in spite of herself, and he grinned again, letting go of her cuff as she sniffed and rubbed her opposite arm across her nose.

"But you're wearing wool," Elsa protested weakly, looking to the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Yeah. Well…"

Jack let out his breath, leaning his head back against the wall. After a few moments, Elsa watched as he rolled his face towards her, a good-natured smile twitching out of the side of his mouth.

"Why don't we agree that you'll be fashionable enough for the both of us, okay?" he whispered.

Jack shrugged, giving her arm a gentle nudge. Blinking quickly, Elsa let out another breathy, nervous laugh as she felt her eyes start welling up again.

"I—I'm sorry," she stammered, frantically flicking more tears off of her cheeks, "I don't know why I'm so emotional right now—I know I'm p-probably overreacting, and—"

"—Overreacting?" Jack exclaimed.

"You know," she said quickly, "About the audience. I don't know why I can't just calm down, after—"

"—He grabbed you!"

"Yeah, but nothing actually—"

"—It DOESN'T MATTER!"

She froze, her heart leaping into her throat. His jaw tense, Jack pulled in a deep breath, visibly struggling to contain his anger.

"It doesn't matter whether or not he was able to actually do anything," he gritted. "The point was that he tried. That's just as bad."

Elsa was silent, staring at him in shock.

Letting out his breath, Jack Frost looked back to his staff that was leaning up against the wall above them. After a few more moments of silence—watching him bite his lip, staring determinately forward and avoiding eye contact—Elsa swallowed hard, drawing in a deep breath to try again.

"I suppose you're right," she choked. "I just—it caught me off-guard."

Jack snorted. "You don't say."

"But I should have been ready. I know I'm not really around here much anymore, but I've been temporarily reinstated, so—so I'm the Queen," she groaned, "That makes me a target again. So, he pulled a power play on me. On Arendelle. I don't believe in dirty politics, but—"

"—That was NOT politics," Jack snapped. "That was just wrong."

"Wait—you don't think that was political?"

"NO."

"Then why did…"

Elsa's voice trailed off, and she looked down into her lap, a wave of confusion sweeping over her face at the statement. How could it not have been politics? If it wasn't something she did, and it wasn't about Arendelle…

"I—I'm sorry," she whimpered, her voice hardly more than a whisper as she shrank away from him in embarrassment. "I'm just—trying to make sense of it. I just want to understand."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Can I try?"

She stared into her lap, fidgeting with her fingers. Then, letting out her breath, Elsa looked back up into his eyes and nodded.

He set his jaw, glaring.

"He ATTACKED you. He's a scumbag. End of story," Jack enunciated. "It has a name. It's called assault. Stop justifying it."

Elsa shifted uncomfortably in the unfamiliar dress, staring into her lap again. "B-b-but he didn't have a weapon, or anything," she stammered, "And, it's not like he was trying to steal something, or make a war deal, or—you know? And I could've fought him off, anyway."

"Yeah, okay, sexual assault, then. Arguably worse." He scoffed, shaking his head and leaning it back against the wall. "Sicko."

Elsa stared at him blankly.

"What?" Jack asked, "You know… uh… sexual… sexual assault…?"

She shook her head.

Jack's eyes widened.

Then, he looked away, leaning forward and clapping his palm over his eyes. "Let me guess," he groaned, pulling his hand down his face, "Your parents didn't feel the need to teach you about that, either."

"I'm sorry," she admitted, "I—

"—What was wrong with your parents?"

"They did their best—"

"—Yeah, well, it sounds like they never got around to the actual parenting part of parenting," he scoffed. "What did they even teach you, for all those years?"

Elsa thought for a moment. She then swallowed hard, hesitantly glancing in his direction. "Um…" she squeaked, "Ice powers bad?"

"My, what a useful thing for a young daughter with ice powers to know."

Elsa felt herself blushing, and sat up a little higher against the wall. She looked back to him, and their eyes met.

Jack drew in a deep breath.

"Oooookay, how do I explain this," he mumbled, kneading his eyebrows. "Uh—let's see—two things, okay? First thing: Nobody has a right to touch you anywhere, for any reason, without your consent. Second thing: If they do, it's not your fault. Ever. Alright?"

Elsa bit her lip. "That's it?"

"That's it." Jack let out his breath, leaning his head back against the wall. "Wait. Actually, no. There is a third thing."

"What's that?"

He looked over to her. "If anyone tries to do anything like that to you again," he said quietly, "You tell me, and I kill them. Okay?"

Elsa said nothing, nodding.

The silence fell over them once more. Pulling in a long breath, Elsa watched as Jack closed his eyes, like he was silently rebuking himself in an effort to calm down.

"Um… Jack?" she quavered. "Are you—are you okay?"

He opened his eyes again, picking up the staff. "Elsa—I just watched that guy use something that's supposed to be fun to try to hurt you. Like—to inspire fear," he gritted. "That doesn't—sit well, with me."

"You're really passionate about this," Elsa asked. "Aren't you?"

The Youngest Guardian's ears turned pink, and he stared forward, spinning his staff on the ground. Catching it, he pulled in his breath.

"Fun is important," Jack Frost mumbled.

Elsa didn't respond.

After a few more moments, awkwardly spinning his staff in the silence, Jack pulled in another quick breath to try again.

"Look… fun is good. Fear is bad," he sighed. "That… well, that sort of defines my existence."

She nodded, biting her lip. Shifting on her hips as she considered the statement, the silence fell over them once again.

"And ice powers," Elsa stammered suddenly.

He jumped, looking back to her. After a few moments, he shook his head, his face cracking into a grin.

"Um… right," Jack laughed softly. "That, and ice powers."

He smiled good-naturedly, planting the end of his staff in the carpet and pulling himself onto his feet. Turning back around to face her, he drew in his breath.

"But as fun as it is to talk to somebody else with ice powers," he started again, offering his hand, "It's pretty late, Elsa. And I've kept you up for a couple nights in a row, already."

She said nothing, but nodded, taking it. Jack pulled her onto her feet, then dropping her hand and taking a step back as she pulled off her mother's shawl. Carefully folding it, she then placed it on her nightstand.

"I have no idea how to apologize," Elsa choked, brushing off her dress. "Or thank you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Just promise to never shut me out like that again, alright?"

"That's a horrible thank you gift," she retorted, "I mean, I do promise, but I—wait. Can I give you an award?"

"Uh…" Jack said slowly, "An… award?"

"I'm a queen. I give people awards for things."

He smiled bitterly. "Gee," he chuckled, arching an eyebrow, "You think Arendelle will formally recognize an invisible snow sprite?"

"This isn't an award from Arendelle."

"Then who's awarding me?"

"How about the Ice Alliance?"

Jack's eyes widened.

"Wait…" he breathed. "Really?"

Elsa nodded.

Looking down to his feet, Jack stuck his hand into his front pocket, kicking at the carpet for a moment. Letting his staff fall back onto his shoulder, he then looked back into her eyes.

"So… um," he asked hesitantly, "This—this means we're an alliance again?"

"I'd certainly hope so."

Elsa watched as a wave of relief swept over his face. Her own expression softening, the Fifth Spirit felt her heart swell, years' worth of built-up tension and insecurities beginning to melt away as she and the Spirit of Winter shyly stared into each other's eyes.

His gaze was so kind…

After a few moments, Jack cleared his throat.

"So, the—you were wanting to—"

"Oh! Right!"

Elsa snapped back into focus, taking a step back from him. Sweeping her hand forward, a soft rumbling as it materialized out of the carpet, a long, sparkling sword of ice stood on its tip before them.

Jack's eyes widened as Elsa stepped forward, taking the ice sword by its hilt and breaking it off of the carpet at its tip.

Crack!

As she tossed it to herself, setting it gleaming as she adjusted her grip, Jack Frost let out a breathy laugh. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

She didn't respond, but smiled shyly, drawing herself up as she turned back to him.

"Jack Frost," Elsa started, "I, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, am honored to bestow upon you the highest honor that can be given to a member of the Ice Alliance. You may kneel."

His cheeks flushing slightly, Jack obeyed, silently getting onto one knee. Pulling in her breath, Elsa lifted the crystalline sword, starting to gently lower it to his shoulder.

"Wait," Jack stammered, jolting back, "I—I'm not getting knighted, am I?"

She froze and looked up.

"Wait," Elsa asked, "Would you like to be?"

"NO. I mean—uh," Jack admitted, "I guess it'd be—well, it'd be an honor, and stuff, but I—It's just that—well, Sir Jack Frost just sounds—weird."

His cheeks flushed again, the tips of his ears going pink as he glanced down, shifting uncomfortably on his knee. Raising her eyebrows, Elsa pulled back the ice sword.

"You think it sounds snooty, don't you?"

He reached up, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding her gaze. "Unbearably snooty," Jack scoffed, hesitantly looking back up into her eyes. "Like—I would never hear the end of it, snooty."

"No knighthood, then," Elsa laughed. "But that's alright. I'm kind of thinking that it's not high enough, anyway."

An expression of confusion swept across his face. "What's higher than a knighthood?"

"How about a friendship?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. After a few moments, he let out his breath.

"Friendship is good," he agreed.

Elsa nodded, smiling as the Spirit of Winter bowed his head. Drawing herself up, she lifted the icy sword once again, tapping it on his right, and then left, and then right shoulders.

"You may rise," Elsa declared, nodding regally and pulling back the sword as she went into Automatic Queen Mode, "Sir—"

"—DON'T you dare."

Elsa jolted, abruptly opening her eyes and cutting herself off. Jack grinned up at her wryly, and Elsa restrained for a laugh as she started again.

"You may rise, Not-Sir Jack Frost. My—"

He raised his eyebrows, glancing up towards her in curiosity. She pulled in her breath, sweeping her hand forward and sending a spiral of snowflakes dancing through the air towards him.

"My—best friend," Elsa finished softly.

Jack looked down in surprise as the flurry of ice swirled into his shirt to solidify on the upper left side of his chest, a coin-sized, solid snowflake clinging to the wool on an icy ribbon. Jack's mouth fell open in shock, and Elsa's heart leapt as he gingerly reached up to touch it.

Grasping the medal, Jack's face cracked into a sheepish smile, and he said nothing, placing his hand on his thigh and pushing himself up onto his feet as he looked back up into her gaze. Elsa felt her shoulders relaxing, smiling shyly back as they stood together in the middle of the silent bedroom, staring into each other's eyes.

"Except for Anna," she blurted.

Jack jumped, laughing. After a few moments, he fell quiet again.

Feeling the edges of the medal, he shook his head, his cheeks flushing as he looked back up into Elsa's eyes.

"Do you really consider me to be your best friend?" Jack asked softly.

She glanced down to her feet, fidgeting with her fingers. "Well," Elsa admitted, "To be completely honest, I—I've never really had a best friend before. Not that I wasn't directly related to, anyway."

"That makes sense."

He reached back up to the medal, gently tugging the snowflake with a bashful smile. The silence fell again, and Elsa glanced to her bed. Suddenly realizing how tired she was—and seeing the icy room divider from their first morning together in her room by the foot of her bed—she bit her lip.

"Can I—um," she stammered, "I—I'm sorry—would it be okay if—?"

Her voice trailed off. Looking to her feet, the quiet fell as she nervously pulled her hands in close to her stomach, fidgeting with her fingers.

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"You want me to not look so you can change," he said.

Elsa nodded, feeling herself blushing again. To this, he smiled good-naturedly, picking up his staff and spinning away from her.

"It's fine," he chuckled, dropping the end of his staff back into the carpet again and leaning into it. "Just tell me when I can turn around, okay?"

Elsa let out her breath, nodding and pacing across the room. Reaching the room divider, she then hesitantly looked back to where he was standing, to see that the Spirit of Winter was still turned away from her, respectfully staring at the ceiling.

Her heart swelling in gratitude, Elsa leapt behind the room divider, frantically beginning to fumble with the buttons on her woolen jacket.

"On the subject of the best friend thing, though," Jack started, his voice carrying nearly unimpeded over the top of the thick screen, "I'm pretty sure that Anna falls into a totally different category."

Elsa nodded, pulling off the jacket and throwing it over the top edge of the room divider. She reached for the top of her bodice. "She's my sister."

"Seems like a really good one, too. That girl would die for you."

"Technically, she sort of did."

"Wait, what?"

"Long story."

Elsa pulled off the main bodice and threw it over the top of the room divider as well. Her fingers flying over its front, she then began undoing the front of her blouse, groaning inwardly at the ridiculousness of her old clothes. SO many unnecessary layers...

"I am never beating Anna, am I?" Jack's voice started again as she shrugged out of the blouse, undoing the skirt and letting it slouch down onto her hips.

"Never."

He laughed, and Elsa felt her heart leap again, temporarily forgetting the frustration of the buttons. But she remembered it soon enough, feeling her back for the laces of her corset. Not the right one… not the… nope. Aaaand, no.

"Gaaaaurgh," Elsa groaned, "Confounded—!"

"Everything okay?"

"It's just—there they are!"

Finally locating the end of the laces, Elsa slid her fingers into the knot. In a few moments, she had untied it and was yanking at the laces in the back of the piece, letting out her breath as the old corset loosened.

"Ice is so much nicer than all of this—everything," she laughed bitterly, pulling off the corset and reaching for the petticoat. "Fashion is ridiculous."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but yeah. Ice is better."

"See, this is why I think you're my best friend."

Finally out of the constricting woolen clothes, Elsa threw the petticoat over the top of the room divider, sweeping her hand over her body. A crisp, clean sheet of white ice materialized out of the air around her, settling onto her skin in a v-necked white shape and sweeping down to her legs. As she pulled a little dye out of the carpet—guiding the droplets to infuse themselves into the icy nightgown and turn it a deep purple—Elsa then sighed in relief, flicking her fingers over her shoulders and making a short cape burst out from the back.

"If it means anything," Jack's voice said softly as Elsa pulled the ice down over her arms into sleeves, "I—I think you're becoming my best friend, too."

Elsa felt her heart swell within her chest again. Saying nothing, she hesitantly peered around the edge of the room divider, seeing that Jack was still standing on the other side of the room, turned away from her.

See? She thought. THIS is what friendship is.

"You good now?" Jack asked suddenly, making her jolt back into the moment.

"Oh! Um, yes. Sorry," she said, giving her head a quick shake and pulling the woolen clothes down from off of the room divider. "And thank you."

"Nothing to apologize for."

As she stepped out from behind the ice, Jack Frost picked up his staff, turning around. As Elsa reached her dresser, putting the clothes down onto its surface, she froze.

"Oh—I'm sorry," she stammered, her face going pale, "I—I apologize if this offends you."

Jack paused, looking abruptly confused. "A nightgown?"

Elsa gulped.

"Sorry," she whispered. "If I'm being scandalous. When I'm just with Anna and Kristoff, sometimes I wear it around the castle at night, but once I was seen outside in it, and the press just about ate me alive for—"

"—Snowflake. It's a nightgown," Jack chuckled, "I've seen ladies in nightgowns before. It's not offensive. To be honest, I don't even think that there's anything that would really surprise meannnnd there's a cape on it."

The Fifth Spirit laughed self-consciously as she walked over to her bed, pulling out her braid. "I like capes," she whispered.

"Who wears a cape to bed?"

"Technically, this isn't a cape, though," she explained, pausing, "It's an overskirt. If it were a cape, it wouldn't be connected at the front like this."

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, "It's an overskirt. Not a cape. I believe you."

Jack Frost shrugged, holding his hands in the air in submission with a teasing grin. Elsa blushed as he laughed under his breath, feeling the warmth of his smile.

"As long as it doesn't offend you," she whispered, shaking out her hair. She pulled down her bedcovers, crawling underneath. "Some people got quite upset a year ago."

"For a nightgown? Was it a scandal, or something?"

She nodded. "It kind of caught me off guard," she admitted. "The water is sucked out of the fountains, the street lamps burst, and the ground rips apart beneath everyone's feet, but what offended some people was the fact that the I was in a nightgown."

Jack scoffed, shaking his head with a grimace. "That—is impressively stupid," he said. "If it's any consolation, though—you are not offending me."

Elsa shifted back in the sheets, adjusting her nightgown underneath her hips as he picked up his staff, turning and walking back over to her. As Jack spun around, gingerly sitting down on the edge of her bed, Elsa pulled in her breath.

"Jack… did something happen?"

"Something happen?" he asked, looking to her in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"It just—you know," she pressed, "With—with the assault thing? I mean—you're so passionate about this. Did something happen? Like—to you?"

"Wait—me? Oh, no. Not at all," he said, "I just—I know what this kind of abuse does to people. Okay?"

"What do you mean?"

Jack shifted his fingers on the staff, closing his eyes for a moment. Opening them again and letting out his breath, he looked back up into her gaze.

"Elsa…" he said softly. "I work with kids. Remember?"

Elsa's eyes widened. "People do this to kids?" she breathed.

The Fifth Guardian bit his lip, looking down as if he were suddenly struggling to keep his composure. Closing his eyes and then opening them again—trying to decide which words to use—he drew in his breath.

"There's a lot of darkness in his world," Jack said quietly.

Elsa's face went pale.

"How—!" She gave her head a quick shake, shifting on her hips. "How is that—how is that even—"

"—I know."

Jack sighed, looking into his lap. Elsa shook her head, leaning forward to him.

"How do you not get angry?" she gasped, "How do you—"

"—Hey, I never said it doesn't make me angry," Jack scoffed. "It makes me more angry than just about anything."

"Do you ever go after the adults?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Like, for revenge?"

She nodded.

"Elsa…" he said quietly. "Our job is to try to bring joy to children. I mean, if we have a chance to stop something from happening, that's different, but… with the revenge thing," he said, taking in another deep breath, "What good would that actually do for the kids?"

She swallowed hard, feeling her throat tighten with embarrassment.

He was right.

"Seriously, though—not everyone is awful," Jack started again, making her look up. "At least, that's what we have to assume, as Guardians. Our job is to bring light and joy to children in any way that we can."

Elsa nodded weakly. "I suppose that makes sense," she conceded. "I mean, with the darkness thing. That you were telling me about earlier."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how do you fight any kind of darkness?"

Jack's eyebrows lifted slightly. A hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth, he then looked back up into her eyes, his expression softening.

"With light," he said.

The peaceful silence fell again.

"No one can do everything, but everyone can do something," Jack added softly. "My thing is fun."

"My thing is political research."

They stared at each other for a moment in silence.

"My something is more boring than your something," Elsa grumbled.

"Aw, come on," Jack laughed, flicking the end of her nose. "Every something helps. And besides. I'm pretty sure that you've got more in you than that."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. But for now," Jack added, pushing himself up from the edge of the bed and getting onto his feet, "I wouldn't worry about it. There'll be plenty of time for you to philosophize yourself into a nervous breakdown in the morning."

He smiled good-naturedly, turning back around to face her. Picking up her hand in his own—a taking a moment to run his thumb over her skin—Jack then looked back up into her eyes.

"Well," he said softly, "I guess this is it. See you in the morning, Elsa."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. As he started to turn away, Elsa caught his wrist.

"—Wait!"

Jack turned back around to her, his eyebrows slightly raised. Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them again, shaking her head slightly.

"Don't—" she stammered, "Um—please don't—please don't go."

A hint of a smile began to appear out of the corner of his mouth. Jack took a step back towards her again, sitting on the edge of her bed and holding her hand. "What? Why not?"

She bit her lip, looking down, feeling his cool hand around hers. Elsa nervously opened her mouth to say something, and then abruptly closed it again.

Jack leaned forward, a little bit closer to her, staring into her face. "You're—um," he whispered, "You're scared—aren't you?"

She said nothing. Then, after a few moments, she sighed and nodded, looking up to meet his gaze. "I don't want to—um," Elsa choked, her voice hardly more than a squeak as Jack raised his eyebrows. "See him again. I mean, what if I close my eyes, and he's there?"

"You're scared you'll have nightmares?"

Elsa bit her lip, looking down to the blankets and avoiding his gaze as more heat rushed to her face. It sounded so—immature—when he put it like that.

But that didn't make it any less true.

"Well… ma'am," Jack said softly, sitting back down on the edge of the bed and making Elsa look up again, "I can personally promise you that that's not going to happen."

She blushed, letting out a breathy, bitter laugh. "Since when does the Spirit of Winter do battle with nightmares?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly shut it, deciding against the reply. Glancing into his lap—and calculating his words carefully—he looked back into her eyes.

"Wouldn't be my first time," Jack decided.

Just as Elsa was about to respond, Jack then suddenly shrugged, tossing his shepherd's crook into his opposite hand and holding it up.

"No match for THIS," he said proudly, twirling it in-between his fingers, "Fun freezes 'em in their tracks. And besides. I've got a friend that can help me."

A look of confusion swept over her face as Jack dropped his staff onto his lap, then crossing his ankle over his opposite knee. "Are we talking about Anna again?" Elsa asked.

"Nah. I mean, well, yes, but I was talking about someone else," he admitted. "I'm good with fun. He's good with dreams."

Elsa looked down to the covers, crossing her arms over her chest and considering the statement. After a few moments, her eyes bulged.

"Are—are you meaning the Sandman?" Elsa gasped, looking back up to him. "The Sandman is real?"

He laughed. "Well, technically, I'm not really allowed to tell you," he chuckled, uncrossing his leg and pushing himself up from the edge of her bed. "Directly, I mean."

Elsa looked at him suspiciously. "How about—just offering an opinion?"

"What kind of opinion?"

"Do you think I should believe?"

The Youngest Guardian raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I think you should."

Jack grinned, leaning forward and resting his chin on his fist. Elsa leaned her head back against the wall, shifting in her bed.

"You're friends with The Sandman?" she laughed breathlessly.

"He's pretty fun," Jack shrugged. "Sandy and I go way back."

"Sandy!"

Jack Frost nodded, glancing to her again with a sheepish grin. Elsa felt a jolt of excitement rush through her at the prospect, suddenly remembering who he was.

Of course Jack Frost would know The Sandman.

"Which is why you need to go to sleep," he laughed, making her snap back into focus. "If he ever finds out how late I've kept you up, Sandy'll kill me."

"We stayed up really late last night."

"We were having fun. It's different."

"How?"

"Because fun is my turf, and Sandy knows it."

Flipping the staff back to place its end on the ground, Jack pushed himself up onto his feet again. Letting out his breath, he then turned back to face her, his face falling as he saw her expression.

"Man," he sighed, shaking his head, "You have no idea how much I wish I could hit you with a little fun magic right now. I mean, I get it if that you're still upset about the necklace, but—"

"—Jack, I never had any issues with your using magic on me."

He stopped, a confused expression sweeping over his face. "You…" His voice trailed off, and then he looked back to her. "You didn't?"

"No! Not at all!" She sank down a little further under the covers. "It was just the fact that you didn't tell me you were."

His eyes widened a bit with the sudden realization. Then, with a nervous laugh, he looked back to her, holding her hand as he stood up. "So—you wouldn't mind if—well, if I—?"

"—Jack, I need to be able to get to sleep," Elsa said softly. "Kingdom to run, remember? I wouldn't mind a little help in the least. And there's a long day of researching Arendelle's child abuse laws in the morning, if I'm going to be able to spare Anna from having to do it."

"That's a very good point, my queen," he said softly. Jack then let go of her hand, standing next to the bed and pushing back a strand of hair from her face. "Well—have sweet dreams, I suppose. I'll see you in the morning, Snowflake."

She closed her eyes. The cool, icy feeling of his lips brushing against her forehead, followed by a wave of calm sweeping over her body, was the last thing that Elsa remembered before drifting off to sleep.