AUTHOR'S NOTE: HELLO AGAIN, EVERYBODY! OKAY, for this chapter to make sense, BE AWARE that I am making some MAJOR references to "Frozen Fever," the 7-minute short released in March of 2015 in front of Disney's live-action Cinderella. If you haven't seen it, go look it up-and seriously, it's on iTunes for, like, two dollars. ;)

ALSO (copy-pasted from the announcement, for those of you that didn't see it): I'm adding illustrations! I REALLY want to learn how to draw, and adding some illustrations to go with Ice Alliance seems like a good enough excuse to do so. I'm a little scared (okay, a LOT scared), but I've made a tumblr account in case any of you are interested in seeing my stuff (I've already posted the first one). If you have any tips or critiques for me as I figure this out and try to work on my skills, I'd love to get your feedback! Type in nopenottelling-dot-tumblr-dot-com, and you'll find me. I've already had some good feedback on what I can improve, and for that, THANK YOU in advance to the fantastic artist MikasP. :) Also, some people have approached me about the possibility of fanart/edits, and if you've got something you'd like me to see, I would LOVE to post it/link to it on there, as well!

To Guest Reviewer Microfire:For some good, old-fashioned hilarity, I recommend anything from the Jeeves and Wooster books by P.G. Wodehouse. It's been a while, and there are about a million books, but in summary, Wooster is a rich, fashionable young idiot of a British gentleman in (I think?) the turn of the century, while Jeeves is his calm, brilliant butler that gets him out of all his ridiculous situations. ;)

To Guest Reviewer Alene Mask:Thank you so much for your sweet, kind review! It totally made my week. As for your question: I'd LOVE to drop a hint, but not here. Feel free to use that email (iceallianceauthorperson at gmail) I set up, if you want a hint of a spoiler. In the meantime, though... shh. I got this. ;) (But it won't come up until the VERY end, so don't hold your breath!)

To Guest Reviewer WingedHeart: You have no idea how happy that insanely kind review of yours makes me; thank you so much! As for your question: Meh, sort of lukewarm, then cold. Ish. No spoilers, of course, but a question: WHY does everybody just take that character's words at face value? (Again: shh, no spoilers!) ;)

For the rest of you: Thank you thank you THANK YOU so much for ALL of your kind words, patience, and support-I love you all, and I hope you have a FANTABULOUS day! :D

.

.

53: THE INVISIBLE PHANTOM

It wasn't that all old ideas were bad—in fact, more often than not, ancient wisdom proved more effective than new philosophy. The problem arose when old ideas, instead of being tried and tested against new ones, were assumed to be superior because they had simply EXISTED first. The mark of a mature individual is that he or she approaches new ideas with old experience, and does everything in his or her power to objectively evaluate their worth. A geezer—by contrast—is simply too stubborn to do so. And Queen Elsa's Council, by Jack's assertion, was filled with such geezers; not the least of which was a crotchety old man by the name of Ivar Johannes Hauge.

Mr. Hauge, a seemingly collected and peaceful politician, was the oldest and most stubborn member of Elsa and Anna's inherited Royal Council. If his words were to be taken at face value, it could be said that what Ivar most valued was the stability of tradition, and peace between the existing political groups. The real problems in the kingdom (as he took enormous pleasure in explaining to anyone foolish enough to disagree with him) were not to be found in specific policies or statistics themselves, but in the pessimism that surrounded their discourse. Of course, this view was understandable, given that self-described peacemaker's definition of pessimism was the acknowledgement of any evidence that could dare to suggest that effective governance was wrought by personal effort.

Having so comfortably enjoyed his seat on the Council for the previous twenty-two years, gleefully shooting down every new idea that found its way onto his desk, Queen Elsa's arrival had come something like a fork to the eyeball. All of a sudden, his extreme laissez-faire philosophy and condescending half-smile were no longer seen as indicators of wisdom, but cynicism as this new young queen pushed for change, demanded statistics and data to form her beliefs instead of simply accepting the fact that facts were determined by money, and those that held it. Instead of brushing the little people away, as had become customary under The Council's control, the young queen was suddenly inviting representatives and small-town leaders into the castle, giving them audiences and placing them in panels to lay out their problems and ideas. But even worse than that, The Council had reeled to learn, it seemed that Queen Elsa was actually—listening to them. When her sister was coronated, they had imagined that things would go back to normal, only then to discover that Queen Anna was even WORSE. From all outward appearances, working together, the two queens even seemed to value the opinion of the townspeople just as much as they valued the nobility's, and their passion for compromise and improvement was nothing short of horrifying.

In his heart, however, it wasn't the nature of the Snow Queen's so-called improvements to the kingdom that so offended Ivar as much as it was the young ruler's ridiculous assertion that there were, in fact, potential improvements to be made. Now that she was reinstated, Queen Elsa's insistence upon personally attending to the political matters of the kingdom's international and domestic affairs deeply troubled him. Not only did her controversial ideas stir up the existing nobles in court, but it was almost as if the lovely young queen actually believed that she was more effective drafting proclamations and pouring over census results, rather than standing by as a sweet, motherly figure for the kingdom's little people to admire.

It was such a waste of beauty.

In his obviously greater experience, Ivar had brought this up with the young queen in the first few months of her rule, trying in vain to teach her the true nature of how things were run. Far from taking his advice to step down, however, Queen Elsa flown into a rant, becoming hysterical and flying off the handle with something or other about responsibility, and her duty as queen, and valuing the input of ALL of her people, yada yada ya. He couldn't quite remember it, and to be honest had stopped listening after a few sentences, but Ivar had left the conversation feeling something a mix of frustration and self-righteousness at the young queen's naivete. When she had been reinstated only a few months after making up that silly little 'Fifth Spirit' business, the Council had begun to discuss the matter of inviting suitors to come and knock some sense into the girl, and Ivar had strongly argued in favor of the idea. When it came to reigning in the beautiful young queen, something had to be done.

What they didn't take into account, however, was that this young queen was now standing outside of her oldest councilman's bedroom door, accompanied by an equally powerful friend and more than ready to strike back.

"We are really—really—not supposed to be here," Elsa choked quietly.

"That's kinda the point, Snowflake."

As the Spirit of Winter touched the mist in the keyhole, it instantly hardened, solid ice gleaming against the brass. A sly little grin twitching out of the side of his mouth, he then stood up, grasping the frozen key and twisting it.

Click!

The door swung open, and he turned and looked back to Elsa, raising his eyebrows. Her jaw dropped.

"That's how you got into my room!" she gasped.

He shrugged. "Busting into places," Jack chuckled. "Not usually a problem, for me. Remember?"

"You—my balcony!" she whispered, "You—!"

"I've learned a trick or two in the last few centuries," he grinned. "Now, come on. Are we doing this or not?"

Elsa froze.

The unspoken words hitting him, Jack shifted his fingers on the staff. He leaned in close to her face again, pulling the door shut as she looked up into his eyes.

"Snowflake, we're not gonna really scare him, or anything," he reassured her, dropping his voice to a whisper. "We're just—having a little fun with him. Mess with his head, you know?"

"And that'll make him resign?" Elsa whispered back.

"Nothing makes people decide to take vacations like thinking they're seeing things."

She shifted on her feet. "Or hearing things…"

The Guardian shot her a knowing grin, taking a step back and pushing the door open to step through. Swallowing hard, Elsa then pulled in her breath, following him into Ivar's bedroom.

Without saying a word, Jack bounced into the air and flew across the room, dropping silently onto the ground next to an enormous wooden wardrobe. Quickly glancing to the bed to make sure that Ivar wasn't stirring, he then nodded, looking back to the Snow Queen and gesturing for her to follow.

She bit her lip, looking to the bed. His long nightcap across the pillow, her oldest councilman was fast asleep, snoring loudly enough to drown out any sound of creaking that the floorboards could create. Even so, silently closing the door behind her, Elsa held her breath as she gingerly ran past the bed to where Jack was standing.

Looking back to Ivar, and then turning around, Jack Frost pulled the door to wardrobe open, revealing a dark, dank space that was mostly filled with boxes. The wardrobe was lower than most, with only a single drawer beneath its towering cupboards, but there was still a step up. Elsa accepted Jack's outstretched hand, daintily hopping into the space.

Turning back around to face him, Elsa nearly leapt out of her skin as Jack started talking.

"Relax, Snowflake. He can't hear me," Jack chuckled, "Just you. But I wanted you to have a good view. I'm closing this most of the way, and then I'll open it again. Nod if you can still see everything, okay?"

Elsa watched as the front of the wardrobe door closed almost all of the way before her, sending her into almost complete darkness as it gently creaked on its hinges. Silently stepping forward, she looked out through the crack, scanning the room.

Bed. Chair draped with old clothes. Messy dresser. Desk buried in papers. Moonlight pouring in through the window, the old curtains halfway pulled back.

Elsa blinked as Jack pulled the wardrobe door open again, looking intently into her eyes.

"You good?"

She nodded, trying to swallow her heart back down. Jack's face cracked into a grin.

"Fantastic," he breathed, slowly closing the door back over the wardrobe and leaving Elsa with the one-inch crack again. "And now, my Queen… for an introduction to pranking, it is time for you to watch: the master."

Elsa's heart started pounding as she shifted on her feet, leaning forward to the crack and peering through. Jack Frost was already across the room, practically strutting as he tossed his staff back into his right hand, walking around to the other side of the bed.

"For today's performance," he proclaimed, making her startle at the disconcerting loudness of his voice, "We will not be using ice powers, because—well, we can't have them thinking that the Snow Queen was out of bed, at this time of night. Scandalous!"

Standing inside the wardrobe, Elsa smiled in spite of herself.

"However," Jack continued, "It seems that our dear old councilguy is sawing logs, and pranking usually works best if the prank-ee is awake. So… let's see. Does it feel—cold—to you?"

Before she could even respond, Elsa's breath caught as Jack Frost held his staff up to the side of the bed, flicking it forward and sweeping a gentle gust of cold air across the covers. Ivar stopped snoring, and—

His nose twitching, Elsa's oldest councilman groaned, whimpering in his sleep and turning over, pulling the covers up tighter around his neck.

Jack Frost raised a single eyebrow.

"Oh, no you DON'T!"

Jack leapt back and whipped his staff over his head, an icy gust of wind tearing through the room and blowing a few papers off of the desk, ripping at the clothes on the chair and the curtains. The blanket suddenly flapping away from him, Ivar snorted and thrashed, jolting awake as the cold shook him into consciousness.

The sudden wind vanished just as quickly as it appeared, the last of the papers settling back down into their places. Propping himself up on his elbow and scratching his head, Ivar glanced around the room, searching for what disturbed him. Looking down, he realized that his blanket was now sitting on top of his knees, barely reaching the bottom edge of his tattered, stained nightshirt.

Scoffing in annoyance, Ivar reached down and grasped the edge of the blanket, pulling it back up to his neck and settling into the covers. Jack shook his head, and Elsa's eyes widened as the Spirit of Winter reached back up to the top of the blanket, grasping its edge.

YANK!

Ivar startled, flipping over in shock. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he stared down at the blanket, which was once again down at his knees, his eyes wide with confusion.

Jack smiled slyly, looking back up to Elsa and raising his eyebrows. Standing in the wardrobe, she restrained from a laugh at her councilman's stunned expression, covering her mouth with her hand.

Letting his staff fall back onto his shoulder, Jack Frost straightened up, smirking as he sauntered over to the man's cluttered dresser. Coming to a stop, he carefully leaned his staff up against it, then reaching forward to the large, empty bowl in the dresser's center.

With the councilman still staring at his blanket, Jack tipped the bowl onto its side.

Elsa watched as Jack let go of the bowl, and it fell back down, rolling softly against the wood as it whirled around and around like a coin. Ivar's ears perked, and he jerked his head up, sitting bolt upright and looking to locate the source of the sound as the bowl spun to a stop.

Seeing the bowl, Ivar froze.

Shooting Elsa a grin, Jack stuck his hands in his pocket, spinning on his heel and walking to the desk. As Ivar stared at the bowl, his eyes wide with disbelief as he tried to decide if he'd really seen what he thought he saw, the Spirit of Winter placed his hand flat on the largest pile of papers sitting on the desk's edge.

Fwwwwwwwwwwwwwip.

Ivar gasped.

Fwwwwwwwwwwwwip. Jack thumbed through the pile of papers again, and Elsa held her breath, looking frantically back and forth between the desk and the bed. Still sitting bolt upright, her councilman had seen the pile of papers shift, and was staring at them in terror.

Jack shrugged, stepping back from the desk and raising his eyebrows. Picking up his staff again, he snorted.

"Yeeeeah, that's probably even for now," Jack chuckled, looking at the councilman with a smirk. "You make Elsa question her power? I make you question your sanity. Have fun figuring out if you're seeing things—nighty-night, dawling."

Her face melting into a smile, the Fifth Spirit shifted back in the wardrobe, her heart swelling with gratitude as Jack walked in her direction. Reaching the wardrobe and standing right in front of her, he took the handle of the wardrobe's cupboard door, then pausing. He looked back to where her oldest councilman was still sitting bolt upright in his bed, wide awake and looking around the room.

"Hmm," Jack mused, "I need him to look away for a minute—what if we just—ah!"

Jack swept his staff forward, sending a gust of wind blowing under the bed to sweep up into the curtains on the other side of the room. As Ivar gasped, whipping around and looking to the window, Jack yanked open the door to the wardrobe, leaping in front of Elsa and closing the door behind him.

Their bodies squashed together, they stood silently in the darkness.

Finally, Jack cleared his throat. Elsa looked up, her heart leaping into her throat as she suddenly realized that her face was mere inches from his own, his piercingly blue eyes and white hair practically gleaming in the darkness.

"It occurs to me that there's no real reason that I got in here," Jack Frost admitted softly. "But—well, I guess it's too late now. Comfy?"

She bit her lip, giving him a tiny nod.

Elsa tried to shift her weight onto her other foot, as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness again, but it was no use. She and Jack, between a pile of heavy boxes and the side of the wardrobe, were effectively crammed together to the point where she hardly was carrying weight on her feet anyway.

"I figure that we'll wait until he falls asleep again," Jack added. "Then I can get you out. But I think that should do it for tonight."

The Snow Queen's heart swelled again. Thank you, she mouthed.

"Wait, are you thanking me?"

She gave a little shrug, nodding gratefully.

Standing crammed together in the wardrobe, the peaceful silence fell over them again. After a few moments, Jack started laughing under his breath.

She looked up, a wave of confusion sweeping over her face.

What? Elsa mouthed. What is it?

He shook his head, looking back into her eyes. "Naw, I just realized something," he chuckled.

Elsa raised her eyebrows in the question.

Jack shook his head, shifting against her in the crammed space again, the end of his shepherd's crook brushing past her ankle. "It just occurred to me," Jack laughed, "Standing here. I could totally start hitting on you right now—and you couldn't do a thing about it."

Her mouth fell open in shock. Her eyes bulging, the Fifth Spirit then froze as he silently let go off the staff, reaching forward and taking her hand in his own.

"Hey there, little snowflake," Jack murmured, gazing suggestively into her eyes as he raised her hand to his lips. "You come here often?"

Elsa restrained from a snort.

Jack raised a single eyebrow, playing with her fingers, and continued. "So I hear you like blizzards," he said slowly, dropping his voice by another few tones, "Perhaps when we get through here, I could take you back to the mountains, and—you know—we could swirl up a little storm, or—oh, don't be so coy."

Elsa was now biting down hard on her lip, holding her breath as she struggled with all her might to hold back the fit of giggles building up in her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, and then opening them again, she rolled her eyes, shaking her head as Jack's smirk melted into a grin.

WOW, she mouthed.

Jack laughed, leaning his head back against the wall of the wardrobe as Elsa shifted on her feet, looking around them. Clearly, most of her councilman's clothes were discarded messily on his chair, and the dark, cramped little space clearly hadn't been cleaned for—well, maybe it had never been cleaned. The boxes were covered with a thick layer of dust, as was the shelf above them, and Elsa could (from the light coming in through the crack) make out the gleam of cobwebs near the top of the structure, amongst even more dust.

Dust.

A wave of panic swept through Elsa's body, suddenly realizing how dirty it was. Back with all these PEOPLE, in Arendelle Proper, she got sick from just about anything—and heaven forbid what would happen if she sneezed. Dusty. Dusty, dirty, and oh, it was DUSTY; after so many years in her room, pristinely cleaned, it was only a matter of time before—

Her nose started tingling.

The Snow Queen froze, her heart leaping into her throat with horror. Oh, no.

"I mean—it doesn't have to be a blizzard," Jack was saying flirtatiously, peering up at her through his eyelashes, "I mean, we could make some—snowmen, if you know what I mean—wait. Uh, Elsa?"

Elsa was squirming, crinkling and stretching her nose as she fought against the tingling. Her eyes wide, she gave her head a shake.

"What is it?" Jack asked quickly, "What's wrong? Why—oh, Manny!" he gasped, "You have to SNEEZE?!"

She nodded frantically, crinkling and stretching her nose more desperately as the tickling feeling grew stronger.

"I—uh," Jack stammered, "Can you—not?"

Elsa glared.

"Right. Stupid question."

She nodded, giving her head another quick shake and starting to try to pull her hand out from the crammed space next to the box. It hit the side of the wardrobe with a thump, and Jack abruptly sucked in his breath, looking out of the crack.

Ivar was staring at the wardrobe.

The Snow Queen could practically feel her heart stop beating as her nose tingled more and more intensely, watching out of the crack as her oldest councilman began to get up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Oh, NO! Elsa thought desperately, He's heard me. And now he's listening, and he's going to be right there, and even IF I could somehow stifle it, there's still a chance that my sneeze would WAIT.

Elsa suddenly found herself remembering Anna's nineteenth birthday party.

A new wave of horror swept over her, and she looked back up. Jack's face was pale as he quickly glanced between her and the crack in the front of the wardrobe, watching Ivar creep closer.

"Okay. New plan," Jack said quickly, "On three, I'm going to open the door and start throwing stuff at him. When I do, you RUN. Got it?"

She nodded, breathing heavily as she crinkled and uncrinkled her nose. Ivar was still walking towards them.

"One."

Elsa's nose was tingling more intensely now, heaving for breath as she tried to restrain. Ivar was nearly in front of the wardrobe.

"Two!"

Ivar was beginning to reach for the handle…

"THREE!"

"Ah-CHOO!"

BANG!

Jack threw the door open, shoving Elsa down and flinging out the first box, clothes and papers flying through the air as Ivar shrieked and tumbled backwards, tripping and falling onto his bed. Elsa gasped, seeing the distinct twinkling of four tiny snowmen materializing out of the air as Jack reached back to pull another pile of clothes out of the nearest box.

"RUN!"

Without a second thought, she scrambled onto her feet, sprinting for the door and yanking it open as one of the newly-formed snowgies ran past. More boxes and clothes flying out of the wardrobe in her peripheral vision as Ivar let out another bloodcurdling scream, Elsa leapt through the doorway, beginning to run down the hallway for the stairs just as a gust of ice-cold wind rushed past her.

"NO! Not that way!"

Something hard suddenly jerked Elsa back by her waist, and she stumbling backwards into Jack's arms. As the door to Ivar's room swung shut, the Spirit of Winter frantically pulled her from the shepherd's crook, whirling her around and slamming her up against the wall, clapping his hand over her mouth.

Ivar's door banged open again, swinging over the space where Jack and Elsa stood. Her eyes bulging, Elsa watched as her councilman ran past them, screaming bloody murder as he sprinted down the hallway in bare feet and his nightshirt, the nightcap falling onto the ground behind him. Before she could even react, Jack Frost was leaping away from her again, grabbing her hand and running back into Ivar's room, pulling her through the door again after him.

As the door swung closed behind them, voices started up in the hallway, Ivar's extended family members waking. Jack was already across the bedroom, ripping back Ivar's curtains and cranking the window open.

"Sorry for grabbing you," he gasped, "Window okay?"

"I—"

"—Great!"

Before Elsa had the chance to respond, Jack suddenly leapt forward and grabbed her hand, jumping into the air and diving through the opening. Elsa tripped forward, gasping in pain as her right hip slammed into the bottom of the windowsill.

Jerked back, Jack spun around in the air shock. As if he were suddenly remembering that Elsa couldn't fly, he then swooped back to the window, helping her scramble up onto the sill before more carefully pulling her out of Ivar's room.

Hardly a moment later, Elsa was being swung onto the ground, touching down onto the cobblestone of the street below once again. Jack dropped her hand, leaping back into the air again.

"I've gotta go shut the window and cellar before anyone sees," he said quickly, "I'll meet you back at the castle! RUN!"

"But—"

"What's wrong now!?"

Elsa's mind freezing into a blank panic, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Gesturing frantically, she tried again. "Little—like, round, but—when I sneeze!"

"What? What is it?!"

Suddenly catching glimpse of a sparkling white something running along the windowsill above them, Elsa gasped, pointing.

"Sn-snow—SNOWGIES!" she stammered.

Jack whipped around, looking up to the window where she was pointing. Standing on the ledge, a four-inch-tall, round little snowman was running back and forth in the moonlight.

Jack Frost's eyes bulged. "WHAT the—!?"

The snowgie squeaked excitedly, bouncing up and spinning around to hop back into the room and out of sight. Elsa stumbled back as Jack leapt into the air, shooting upwards and scrambling into the window.

Whirling around, the Snow Queen jumped and broke into a full sprint away from the building, wishing that she could move faster. Ugh, if the Nokk were here! Running across the town square, her mind raced as she frantically struggled to remember where all of the guards were stationed. If she tried to get into the castle from the outside—well, she could probably order them to keep quiet, but if a counter-command was made without her—!

Finally reaching the end of the alleyway behind the market, the Snow Queen sucked in her breath, skidding and hopping to a stop before rounding the corner to keep running. No. Jack had said to just meet at the castle—if she beat him there, she would just have to find a place to hide, before—

All of a sudden, a shadow fell across the cobblestone in front of her, and Elsa gasped, looking up. A moment later, holding a squirming pillowcase that she assumed could only be filled with tiny snowmen, Jack Frost was sweeping down onto the ground in front of her.

"Hold this," he gasped.

Before Elsa could respond, he shoved the squirming, happily squeaking pillowcase into her arms, then bending down and scooping her up into his own. He readjusted his grip on both her and the staff, and then shot up into the air.

The castle wall came and went as they flew, far beneath them as they soared over the town, then swooping down again onto Elsa's balcony. As soon as he set her down, Jack lunged forward and grasped the handle of one of the glass the doors, and within a few moments they were stumbling into her art gallery, choking and gasping for breath.

With the tall balcony doors closed again behind them, Elsa turned around, leaning against the glass. Jack did so as well, sliding down against it onto the floor, and the Snow Queen set the pillowcase down between them, her heart still pounding as she joined him.

"Run," she gasped. "That's it. THAT'S your idea."

"I never said it was a good one."

Sitting together on the floor, Elsa and Jack struggled to catch their breath, both staring forward into the silence.

Elsa shifted on her hips.

"I am never trusting your ideas again," she breathed.

"Hey. It worked, didn't it?"

"That's your definition of 'working?'"

"We didn't get caught."

"We ALMOST got caught."

Jack started laughing, throwing back his head and clapping his hand over his eyes.

"What?" Elsa demanded. "What's so funny?"

Letting out a long, low whistle, Jack pulled his hand down from his face, slowly shaking his head.

"Just be a little creepy. Mess with his head," Jack chuckled bitterly. "We don't want to really scare him, or anything. Just make him a little uncomfortable staying here."

"Right."

The silence fell over them once again as they stared forward into the Snow Queen's art gallery.

"Or," Jack started again, "We could give him such a bone-chillingly terrifying experience that it will haunt his dreams for the next thirty years."

"Yeah," Elsa choked, gasping for breath. "We could do that."

He leaned his head back against the glass door, exhaling slowly. "Maybe I should go alone next time."

"That's probably for the best."

"And, in the meantime," he breathed, looking to her, "You, Snowflake, have got some serious explaining to do."

"About what?"

Jack Frost said nothing, raising his eyebrows and turning towards her to reach his hand into the pillowcase. As he pulled out one of the tiny snowmen—holding it up between them—Elsa felt her throat tighten with embarrassment.

"What. The blizzards," Jack sputtered, "Are THESE!?"