AUTHOR'S NOTE: FROZEN II IS LESS THAN A MONTH AWAY AAAAAUGH and I have two main emotions watching the trailers right now:

1. And now there's an Enchanted Forest OF COURSE THERE'S AN ENCHANTED FOREST; NOW I HAVE TO SHOEHORN AN ENCHANTED FOREST INTO THE PLOT SOMEHOW...

2. BRING—MY FANDOM—LIIIIIIIIIIIIFE!

(*whispers*) Love you all thanks for reading and have a glorious day ;)

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69: Everything is Fine

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In the private family dining room, safely away from the listening ears of the normal staff, Queen Anna decided that it was time to bring up what she believed to be the most pressing issue in Arendelle at the time: namely, the love life of her FAVORITE sister, Queen Elsa.

"We have… a situation," Anna enunciated, interlacing her fingers and resting her chin on top of them.

Rapunzel's eyes widened. "A situation?" she asked, "What kind of situation?"

"One involving Elsa, true love, and—snow," the pregnant young queen said decidedly. "And I need to talk to my sister again first, but—I think it's time to get involved."

"Do not get involved," King Kristoff warned.

From the corner of the room, Sven the reindeer snorted in agreement. Anna restrained from rolling her eyes, tearing off a piece of her roll and popping it into her mouth.

"Elsa needs help with her True Love?" Rapunzel exclaimed, "Of course we should get involved! Eugene?"

They all turned to face him.

"Elsa's seeing somebody?" he asked. "Elsa, the Snow Queen? Elsa, the one who accidentally buried Arendelle in a blizzard, the last time we were here? That Elsa?"

Queen Anna nodded. Shrugging his shoulders with a grin, Eugene waggled his eyebrows.

"Well, I'm thinking that we should get some popcorn," he chuckled.

"EUGENE."

"Whaaaaat?"

Anna sighed. "They're completely in love, and they're totally perfect for each other," she explained, poking at her dinner with her fork. "They just—they're stalled. Somehow. From being in a relationship."

Kristoff snorted. "Uh—Anna?" he chuckled, "Pretty sure they're already in a relationship."

"What are you talking about?"

"Have you seen all the time they're spending together?"

She scoffed. "That doesn't mean they're together."

"Yeah, it does."

"If he WANTS her to be his girlfriend, then he needs to ASK her to be his girlfriend," Anna insisted. "Just because they've kissed a few times, it doesn't automatically mean tha—"

"—THEY'VE KISSED?" King Kristoff jolted.

"Yes! Pay attention!" Queen Anna snapped, "But he isn't asking her to be his girlfriend. Because he's a jerk?"

"Because she's already his girlfriend!"

"No, she isn't!"

Eugene and Rapunzel had now both stopped eating entirely, their eyes darting back and forth between the young king and queen like shuttles on a weaving loom. Meanwhile, Anna was spiraling more and more passionately into her rant.

"If he wants something, then he needs to man up and CLAIM it," the pregnant queen scoffed, gesturing with her fork, "He doesn't get to be upset losing her, if he doesn't bother to tell her that he wants her to be his. And now there's Prince Frederik in the mix, and—"

"—FREDERIK!?" Kristoff stammered, "Wait, who's Frederik?! There's a FREDERIK, now?!"

"Yes! And he sounds dreamy. And if Elsa chooses him, then Jack has no one to blame but himsel—"

"—OOOOOoooh, we are all gonna die."

Kristoff let his fork fall onto his plate with a clatter, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. Sven—who had previously been sitting in the corner of the room, munching on some hay—clopped forward, his hooves clunking against the floor.

Snuff. He nuzzled his large snout under Kristoff's arm, making the ice man look up. The reindeer then glanced to the dinner plate with longing.

Kristoff pulled in his breath, reading the animal's expression. "YoU dOnE WiTh tHaT?" he warbled.

As Rapunzel and Eugene stared on with confusion, the Commoner King then cleared his expression, switching back to his normal voice.

"Yeah," he scoffed, shoving the plate to the reindeer. "All yours."

He sighed dramatically, looking away as Sven dove at the plate, the reindeer snorting and snuffing with enthusiasm as he scarfed down the food.

Eugene's left eyebrow lifted. He looked to his wife. "Is that—normal, or—?"

"Sven joins us for most of our meals," Queen Anna explained.

Eugene opened his mouth to say something, but then abruptly closed it again. Glancing to Rapunzel for approval, he then cleared his throat.

"SO! Uh… Elsa, and this… mystery guy," Eugene started, throwing a wary glance at Kristoff and Sven as he address Princess Anna. "How long has this been going on?"

"He showed up almost a week ago. And he's been following her around ever since."

"Awww!" Rapunzel sighed happily.

"I know," Anna chuckled. "He's obsessed with her."

"I still don't think you should be getting involved," Kristoff muttered, not looking up.

"They need help!"

"Uh, he doesn't need your help. If he needs a quick talking-to for some reason, I'll do it," Kristoff insisted. "We shouldn't make him feel like everyone's ganging up on him."

"Ganging up on him?! He's a puppy!"

"A puppy who could flick his fingers and KILL US ALL!"

"Kill us all?" Eugene snorted, tossing back his hair and stretching his arms behind his seat. "This is getting good! Who is this guy?"

Kristoff and Anna exchanged looks. As Kristoff let out his breath—giving her one last warning glare before turning back to scratch Sven—Queen Anna leaned forward to Rapunzel and Eugene, dropping her voice to a whisper.

"Have either of you ever heard of 'The Guardians?'"

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North had talked to Jack about the pranking.

Even though he still took enormous pleasure in it (especially when it involved ticking off a certain Guardian of Hope), the Spirit of Winter was a lot more careful with it now. Before his Guardianship, he'd messed with people as a way to try to shock them out of their comfort zones, and into—well, you know. Fun. Relationships. Taking breaks, and actually enjoying life, for a change. If all it took to make a guy stop obsessing over a stupid pile of papers was to blow those papers out the window, then so be it. But Jack had never realized that he was hurting people.

When it came to Elsa's Council, he was a little bit uncomfortable with what he was doing, wondering if he was going to feel some kind of negative repercussions for his actions. But Jack justified that this was a gray area, and that there were a bunch of ways that—even though he was taking advantage of his INVISIBILITY to freak them out—this wasn't an abuse of his power at all. For one thing, the invisibility was a curse, not a power, and the only person who was getting the literal Ice Treatment was dear old Prince Wonderful, who had better darn well get used to it, anyway. And for another thing, the Snow Queen's counselors weren't children. Plus, it sounded like they were indirectly hurting children, plus they were jerks, plus they were taking away HIS Elsa's right to have FUN.

See? It was fine.

He was doing fine.

Still, Jack had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he lit down onto the balcony of Queen Elsa's official office, which was—as he'd been told—sort of a shared office now, between Elsa and Anna, until the Fifth Spirit went back to the Forest. From snooping around and exploring the castle a few days earlier, Jack had found that it was at the end of the hallway, a floor below the guest bedrooms. He'd had figured that there would probably be some guards in front of it from the inside, and even though he was invisible, the bright red leather file in his arms was not. Thus, the balcony had seemed like the best entrance.

Clutching the folder, he paused. The Moon shone in the darkness of the night, its light falling all around him and sparkling off of the Christmas season's snow. Staring out over the fjord, Jack shifted on his feet.

"He didn't even do the research himself," he muttered. "Some librarians did it. And I'm giving it back. Okay?"

The Moon did not respond.

Turning around and crouching down to ice the lock, Jack Frost leaned his staff up against the doors. He took a deep breath.

Whoosh.

His icy breath swirling through the lock, Jack shook his head and straightened up. Flicking his hand into the mist, he guided it to harden into a key, just like all the rest. Grasping it, he pressed it in, and—

Click. Piece of cake.

The door swung open, and Jack strode into the study. Just as expected, it had one grand desk in the center, a few bookcases, a large, plush rug, and a bunch of expensive paintings on its walls. It was definitely a formal office: big, snooty-looking, and weirdly public. It was pretty easy to see why the young queen had set up a second office in her bedroom, for what she was actually working on. Because she was a smart. And, not a figurehead; Elsa actually cared. She was… amazing.

As if on cue, his mind was suddenly wandering back to the Snow Queen. And her eyes, and her hair, and the way that her perfect ice draped over her gorgeous curves, and…

Jack scoffed, giving his head a quick shake and walking over to the desk, dropping the file onto its surface with a dull thud. He had wanted to go with her to this dinner, because he always wanted to be with Elsa, but—he wasn't a masochist. And he had no intention of sitting there, helplessly, to watch his Ice Powers Girl having a snooty, formal dinner with this jerk, while he was unable to defend what was OBVIOUSLY his turf.

Well—okay, it clearly wasn't obvious to Elsa yet, but she had distinctly TOLD HIM to not back off. If she'd asked him to leave her alone, he obviously would have had to respect that, but she'd said the exact opposite. So… alrighty, ma'am. As you wish. With that literal invitation to intervene, if the Snow Queen of Arendelle thought for a MOMENT that he was just going to stand there and smile while the woman of his dreams went off with another guy, then OH, she had another thing coming. Because Jack had NO intention of going down without a fight.

Prince Wonderful had impressed her, by—well, with this file. And if that stupid prince could read up on Elsa, then by Manny, Jack could too.

Staring at the enormous pile of references, the Youngest Guardian set his jaw with determination. Sitting forward, he then pulled the chair up to the grand desk, picked up the first document, and started to read.

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Even though she felt extremely uncomfortable with it, the reinstated Snow Queen of Arendelle was an expert with small talk. After all, it was a skill, just like anything else—and, it usually involved at least some level of polite political discussion, now often followed by an awkward request for her to showcase a bit of ice magic. But the conversation with Jack Frost had always flowed so freely, and so easily, that the rules of royal etiquette (and her own shyness) which had been so drilled into her over the years seemed to slip from her memory, gone from her mind in favor of honesty and laughter. The very act of talking to someone was—well, he was—fun. In a way, it was so freeing that it almost felt like being back in the Enchanted Forest again. With the sudden contrast, trying to transition back into Formal Conversation Mode with the Prince of Kingsley (and their small audience of butlers and servants and maids) felt like a shock to the system, to say the least.

By which she meant that it felt awkward… very, very awkward. When they'd first met, it had been so much of a relief to have a suitor who was actually decent that she hadn't noticed, but now—socially trapped with him—everything was stiff and forced. Matching perfectly with what Elsa had always imagined about courtship, it felt terrifyingly real. If Jack Frost was a dream, then Prince Frederik was waking up.

He was realistic.

When he had entered the room, arriving at the formal dining hall mere moments after she had, the date had taken off with an uncomfortable start when Elsa noticed that Frederik was limping.

"Are you alright, Prince Frederik?"

She quickly paced towards him, and he tensed, stumbling back a step. Wincing as he shifted his weight, Frederik forced a smile.

"Of course, your majesty," he said, "I am quite well. And yourself?"

"You appear to have hurt your leg."

"Ah. Um, yes," the prince admitted. "I slipped on—ah, on, the, way here. It's not a problem."

"Oh, no!" Elsa exclaimed, her face going pale, "I am so sorry! I—would you like me to call for a doctor?"

"I assure you that I am alright, your highness."

Prince Frederik smiled again, this time a real smile, bright with his startlingly white teeth. Elsa relaxed slightly and nodded.

"Alright. As long as you're sure," she started again, clasping her hands together in front of her skirt. "Shall we sit down?"

"That sounds wonderful, Queen Elsa."

She nodded again, looking down and wincing internally at the title. She demanded respect, being the queen again, but the way that everyone was saying it, like this was where she was going to stay…

Reaching her chair, the Fifth Spirit looked back to her suitor. Seeing that Prince Frederik was still hesitating, staring at the carpet before him with worry written across his features—she paused.

"Is something wrong, Prince Frederik?"

He reached his chair, thanking a servant as it was pulled out for him. "Wrong?" he asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well—um," Elsa stammered, sitting down herself, "I can't help but notice that you're—staring at the carpet. If there's something not to your liking—"

"—NO! No! Nothing's wrong!"

Prince Frederik laughed nervously, falling into his chair as he ripped his gaze from the floor. Elsa saw his eyes flicker to her hands—and then her icy capelet—and then back to the carpet one more time before he looked back to her face.

"I've simply—uh," he added, "I—I've found that I ought to be watching my step more carefully. Since I've arrived in Arendelle, I've found myself slipping over my own feet quite often."

Elsa looked at him in confusion. "Slipping? Don't you mean tripping?"

"Oh! Um, yes. Of course."

His eyes flickered down again, glancing warily to where her long, sparkling capelet of ice was spread elegantly across the floor by the table. A plate of salad was placed before each of them, and Frederik and Elsa both thanked their respective servants.

"So!" Frederik exhaled sharply, flashing his brilliant smile as he flicked his napkin onto his lap. "How long have you had your—ability? Exactly?"

Elsa's eyebrows lifted. "You want to know about my ice powers?" she asked.

"They are quite—extraordinary," he said. "And famous, I might add."

"I've had them since I was born."

She picked up her glass, taking a drink. Looking over the rim, the Snow Queen then let out her breath.

"With respect, Prince Frederik," she said calmly, "I'd rather not spend all of our time together discussing my powers. Even though you have already read quite a bit about me, I must admit that I know next to nothing about you."

Prince Frederik picked up his fork with a shrug. "What would you like to know? I believe that you are already somewhat acquainted with my political views."

"Only somewhat," she admitted.

Elsa paused, still holding her glass as she studied the prince. Her eyes narrowing in thought, she set then down.

"Your lapel pin," she said at length. "What is it? The design?"

"Ah!" Prince Frederik reached up, slipping his hand behind the collar, unfastening it. "It's my family crest. Would you like to see it?"

"Very much."

Pulling off the pin and reattaching its backing, the Prince of Kingsley exhaled, his face melting into a smile. It was an easy question.

A butler stepped up to him to take it, and Frederik passed it to the man, watching as he bowed curtly and spun around to walk it to Elsa.

"It's a fox and crown design. Meant to represent cunning and nobility," he explained, watching as the butler came to the other end of the long table. "A rather unfortunate irony, I'm afraid."

Elsa took the pin from her butler, briefly thanking him before examining it. Just as Frederik had said, it was a simple crest: a red fox underneath a golden crown.

"And it's on a shield," he added. "To represent the protection of Kingsley, of course."

"Of course."

Elsa handed the pin back to her butler, thanking him again. He bowed and began the walk back to the other end of the table.

"Why is it ironic?" she asked, picking up her fork.

Prince Frederik had been in the middle of a bite himself, and didn't answer for a moment. Swallowing, he then laughed lightly. "The fox," he sighed.

Elsa, who had taken a bite of her own dinner, contemplating this. Then, it hit her.

"Orthinology," she stated. "Your interest in the study of birds."

He nodded. "It is the most beautiful science," he breathed, his eyes lighting up as the prospect, "Birds, insects… anything with wings, really. And just the poetry of it all! Can you even imagine, what it would FEEL like to—to fly? To just soar over your kingdom and—"

"—Terrible!"

"What?"

Suddenly realizing that she'd said it out loud, Elsa blushed furiously. Shifting on her hips—

"I'm sorry," Elsa stammered, her mind racing as she struggled to backpedal, "I just—I imagine that flight would feel quite—nauseating. As opposed to just being up very high, on a staircase or the like, I just—I would prefer to be on something solid. Like a balcony. Or at least, a responsive horse."

"Oh. I—um—I see."

Prince Frederik nodded, looking down to his plate in disappointment. After a few moments, he then scoffed to himself.

"Be that as it may," he muttered, "My family remains… determined to not support my passion for funding its research. It doesn't seem to actually matter how many ideas, nor potential benefits and uses I show them, they have decided that flight is folly. And as for the crest… well, it's fitting," he smiled bitterly. "You can see the problem."

"That birds don't tend to do well with foxes?"

He nodded again, taking a bite of his dinner. Elsa did the same, then pulling in her breath.

"If it helps," she offered, starting to smile a bit as she put down her fork, "I do understand. What it feels like, to feel at odds with your kingdom's symbol."

He laughed. "You? You understand, what it's like to have a family, and even a family crest, that stands in direct opposition to everything you are?"

"Prince Frederik, Arendelle's symbol is a flower."

Elsa's smile had vanished, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Realizing it, the Prince of Kingsley froze.

"My deepest apologies, Queen Elsa," he choked. "I didn't mean to be—insensitive."

"Thank you." Elsa picked up her fork again, still not smiling. "I've gotten bouquets for Anna and such, and of course we have many around the castle, but… I can't get too close, for long. Flowers aren't particularly fond of me."

Prince Frederik's eyebrows drew together in thought. "I was under the impression that cut flowers do better in the cold."

"Cold, yes. Ice, no."

The Snow Queen took a bite of her salad, carefully chewing it as the quiet settled over the table. Swallowing, she put down her fork and reached for her napkin.

"I've actually experimented, putting petals into my clothing and such. And it works… for a couple of hours," Elsa said softly, dabbing at her mouth with the cloth. "But then they wilt."

"I see," he responded. "If it's any consolation, that seems as good a reason as any to not like flowers."

"Oh, no, that's not it at all," she countered. "I love flowers. I just can't have them."

She looked down to her plate sadly, lost in thought and hardly seeing what was before her. Then, Elsa's eyes widened.

"Unless they're ice flowers," she realized suddenly.

Prince Frederik looked up in surprise, holding his fork midair. "Ice flowers?" he asked quizzically.

"Well—you know," she stammered, "If they're grown from ice—so ice can't hurt them?"

Her voice trailed off.

After a few moments—putting down his fork—the prince huffed, his face cracking into a smile. He started chuckling, growing louder as the servants and butlers standing at attention began to politely join him, until everyone in the room was laughing.

Elsa's cheeks heated.

Forcing an uncomfortable giggle, she shifted in her seat, hiding her embarrassment by looking down and starting to reach for her glass. Prince Frederik leaned onto his elbow, smiling at her with encouragement in his eyes.

"I knew that you were intelligent, Queen Elsa," he laughed, "But I didn't realize that you were a quick-wit, as well! A flower, growing out of ice?"

"Heh," Elsa exhaled with another forced giggle, "Yes, um—very—very preposterous."

Frederik snatched up his glass, holding it aloft. "A toast! To ice flowers!" he proclaimed.

The Fifth Spirit, not knowing what else to do, smiled with discomfort and raised her glass as well. She nervously glanced around the room, seeing the butlers and maids, before looking back to the prince.

Their gazes locked.

"And if I ever should happen to come across one," Prince Frederik said softly, shooting her a knowing smile from where he was sitting at the other end of the table, "Sprouted in a forest, or moor, or growing in a meadow somewhere—I swear upon my crown that I will have it dug up, preserved, and sent to Arendelle at once."

She nodded, her teeth clenched together as she lifted her glass in unison with his. Then—as Prince Frederik took a regal, short drink from his—Elsa followed the cue by desperately chugging her entire glass.

Clunk. She slammed the now-empty glass back onto the table much more forcefully than good manners would allow, a fine layer of frost on its entire surface. Clearing her throat, she then drew her hand back.

"I will admit," she choked, "I would hardly call that the wittiest comment I have ever made."

"Oh, I'm sure. It's just an amusing prospect," Frederik chuckled with encouragement. "Can you imagine, a flower growing out of ice? That's a good one, your majesty!"

"Heh—um, yes. Thank you."

The bitter sting of his unintentional insult still in the back of her throat, Elsa drew herself up, silently praying that the air above her would not become spontaneously filled with snowflakes. She was the Fifth Spirit of the Enchanted Forest. And, she would be returning to her post… even though this inconvenient little detail (and how it would impact Prince Frederik) had not yet been brought up. But she was still an heir to the throne. She still had… responsibilities. She had made an oath to do what was best for Arendelle. No MATTER the personal cost.

But…

She closed her eyes.

"I know that you told me a falsehood during our audience, Prince Frederik," Elsa said quietly, opening them again. "I know that you are intimidated by my ice powers."

He froze.

His grip suddenly tight on his fork, Prince Frederik's eyes bulged in panic. Looking abruptly uncomfortable with the situation, he set the utensil down, clearing his throat.

"They are—um," he whispered. "Rather—unique. Queen Elsa."

Her eyebrows lifted.

"Unique," she repeated.

Prince Frederik was now avoiding eye contact, shifting in his chair. A wave of guilt washing over her, Elsa looked down to her lap.

An alliance between Arendelle and Kingsley could potentially benefit both kingdoms. This, she knew. She wasn't certain that it would actually make that much of a difference (now that Anna had taken up the crown), and she certainly wasn't obligated to marry the man, but that—she felt obligated to give him a chance. But, now was he giving her a chance? Why would he? She had embraced her powers, and her role as the Fifth Spirit—well, was that a mistake? Was she hurting Arendelle, by letting her ice powers go? By showing herself?

Again?

Elsa pulled in a deep breath.

"Would you feel more at ease if I were to wear gloves?" she heard herself say.

A cold, dark blanket of silence descended over the table.

It's not that big a deal, Elsa thought, her mind racing as a few flurries of snow started to materialize above her, It's just for a little bit. He's my guest. I have to make him feel comfortable. It's for Arendelle.

It's for ARENDELLE.

"Does that—um," Prince Frederik stammered, "Does that—help you to—"

"—Conceal them. Yes."

She twisted her fingers in her lap, then clasping her hands together tightly against the swirling storm of panic bubbling up inside of her. This wasn't something for the long-term. Even if they got married, they would almost never see each other. She'd be back in the Forest. This was fine. She would be fine.

This was FINE.

Conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't feel, conceal—

"Well," Prince Frederik huffed, his eyebrows lifting hopefully, "I don't—your majesty, I would never ask for you to do something like that, just for me, but I—"

"—It's no trouble. Kai?"

She motioned for the butler to step forward and he did so, nodding as he was instructed to locate a pair of her old gloves. As he turned away, Elsa couldn't help but notice a look of concern flash in his eyes.

Or perhaps that was just a matter of his mirroring her own.

Throughout the rest of the meal, Queen Elsa and Prince Frederik had talked of safer subjects—taxes, policy, and the like—until the butler finally came back into the room, holding a pair of embroidered teal gloves on a small pillow.

Putting down his utensil, Prince Frederik's eyebrows lifted. He glanced to her gloves.

"This is extremely gracious of you, Queen Elsa," he admitted.

"Well, I want my guests to feel comfortable in my presence."

Her mind reeling, Elsa swallowed against the bitter, acidy taste in her mouth as she looked at the gloves. Her hands shaking, she watched herself start to reach for them, and hesitated.

I just don't want you to end up with somebody who doesn't APPRECIATE ice, Jack Frost's voice was suddenly echoing through her mind, I think that would really hurt you.

The fear gripping her lungs like a vice, Elsa shakily took the gloves from the pillow, his voice still in her mind.

So you've ALREADY given up on the idea of marrying someone who ACTUALLY LOVES YOU?

Holding her breath against the thought, she was pulling the gloves on. She stretched out her fingers, the thick wool a familiarly suffocating texture against her skin.

It's not that big a deal, Elsa thought frantically, squeezing her eyes shut and clasping her now-gloved hands together in her lap, It's just temporary. It's polite. It's for Arendelle. Don't cause trouble, be a good girl, wear the gloves for JUST a little while, conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't feel, conce—

"Queen Elsa?"

Jolting, she startled from the stupor, looking up in surprise. Kai, the butler, was staring into her eyes in concern.

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, visibly struggling not to look at the flurries of snow falling around them. "Are you alright?" he whispered.

"Oh! Yes. Thank you. And it was a lovely dinner."

Elsa stood up, and Prince Frederik—taking the cue—quickly did so as well, straightening his jacket. As the young queen swept past the butler, walking towards her guest, the prince nodded.

"Indeed it was," Frederik agreed. "And I've been told that there is a beautiful courtyard behind the castle. Would you allow me the honor of accompanying you for a brief turn in it, your majesty?"

The Snow Queen nodded frantically, squeezing her hands together and desperately trying to ignore the feeling of the constricting wool on her fingers. "That would be excellent. Thank you, Prince Frederik."

He offered his arm. She paused, looking to the table.

"Your pin?" Elsa prompted, suddenly noticing that it was still lying next to his plate from where it had been placed earlier.

He looked down to it, and his face fell. "Oh—um, yes. Thank you."

Pulling in his breath, the Prince of Kingsley reached for it, picking it up and undoing its backing. Slipping his hand behind his left lapel, he then fastened it onto his coat.

And his face fell.

"The future of Kingsley," he stated, almost like he was talking to himself as the pin glinted against the fabric, "Is my first, and highest, priority."

The Fifth Spirit of the Enchanted Forest looked down to her gloves.

"And the future of Arendelle is mine," she whispered.