AUTHOR'S NOTE: I cannot thank you guys enough for your continued love and support—and just being here. This fandom means basically everything to me, and has given me hope and comfort in ways I can't even describe, and getting to write this—and actually get people's feedback on it—reassures me I'm not alone. I frequently feel like I'm just pouring my soul into working and working and working on this extremely secret and highly personal piece of writing, which I then toss out onto the internet without telling anyone, hoping that some stranger might like it, and your support means more than I can say. I imagine that most fanfiction authors probably feel the same way, and I can personally attest to how motivating and powerful kind words and reviews can be. I think I speak for a lot of us, when I say that PLEASE REVIEW; WE CRAVE THE VALIDATION I mean writing feedback.

Also: I've also started what I'm going to call a "demi-drafting" process, which is that I'm going back to the beginning and drafting IA a few chapters at a time, but without actually taking a hiatus. It's needed it for a really long time—especially to smooth out all the Frozen II stuff that was added—but I really, REALLY needed to get through the Anything/Everything segment FIRST (you know, just for me, lol). Anyway, the first three chapters of the demi-draft have been re-uploaded, and—yeah, everything should read smoother, and more true-to-character. I currently have ONE transition left to rewrite in the demi-draft of chapter 4, which is currently a full arts-and-crafts project of printed-out dialogue, literally cut into pieces and taped together, because I couldn't do all of that rearranging in my brain.

To sum up this very long Author's Note: thank you to EVERYBODY for being here, and sticking this out with me. You cannot know how important it is to me to know that there are still actually people out there, reading this on the other side of the screen. I love hearing about your lives and perspectives, as well—and legitimately hope that you're all doing great. Please keep being awesome.

You're the best.

~NNT:)

CONTENT WARNING: By my interpretation of Jack's character, there's an implied virtue to the guy built into the premise of his role in ROTG. This is another way of saying that Jack (while imperfect) is a legitimately decent human being, and actually acknowledging it requires a little PG-13 context.

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93: BEAUTIFUL

If it were possible, Elsa was now even more madly in love with Jack Frost than before.

Jack wasn't a threat to Arendelle. Not only had he not taken her up on her offer—well, what she thought she was being forced into offering—but he had never presented any kind of danger to her or her kingdom, except perhaps for breaking her heart with his absence. As it turned out, the warning shot wasn't even a warning shot at all, but was a horrible coincidence. And she had never in her life been so relieved to learn that she was wrong.

But now she had another problem.

For the first time since they'd met, Elsa now realized that Jack was… avoiding her.

Well—sort of avoiding her, anyway. He kept starting to approach her, like he wanted to talk, but then he would freeze, his eyes going wide and his muscles tensing up. After that, Jack would shrink, and before Elsa could even react, the Spirit of Winter was suddenly nowhere to be found.

She finally cornered him near the entrance of the ballroom, where she found the winter spirit standing at the edge of the wide doorway, silently watching the bustling crowd of workers and decorators with his hood pulled up over his hair.

Gathering her courage and clutching the rope of the little bag she was holding, Queen Elsa drew herself up.

"Didn't we have more yule goats than that?" she announced to her surroundings.

Jack startled, jolting and spinning around. His mouth falling open in shock as he saw that Elsa was standing right behind him, he then blushed, snapping it shut.

"Your majesty?" asked a passing butler, drawing her attention. "The yule goats?"

The Snow Queen turned away from Jack, facing the man like nothing was going on beyond what the room of workers could perceive. "Oh, I just thought I remembered us having more," she told him, lying through her teeth while a confused expression swept Jack's face. "In fact, I think I might have seen some extra ones in the upstairs supply closet. I will go check."

"Do you not wish to ring for someone, your highness? Or I could go on your behalf."

"Thank you. But there is no need."

She slipped the bag onto her wrist, then looking back up. Elsa regally clasped her hands together in front of her skirt, her chin gracefully lifted like the royalty she was. She gave the butler a practiced, reassuring smile.

"In fact… I've been meaning to check the upstairs supply closet for a while," Elsa added pointedly, beginning to turn away.

Halfway around, the Snow Queen then paused, and shot a meaningful look at Jack.

A second passed, and then the confused Guardian's eyes suddenly lit up with comprehension. With a silent nod, Jack Frost then shifted his fingers on his staff, giving a little gesture for her to lead the way. Nodding herself, Elsa took the cue to do so.

She led him through the throng of people, cooks and servants and workers rushing to and fro in hurried preparations for the night's ball, barely pausing to give frantic bows and acknowledgements. It was already nearly one pm, and the ball was set to begin at 6:00. As anyone who has ever organized a major public event is aware, that meant they weren't yet down to the wire, but would be soon. It would be fine, of course—but not without a great, GREAT deal of work. And Elsa still needed to speak to Jack first.

Finally, they arrived in the relatively deserted upstairs hall, going for the supply closet that the Fifth Spirit had chosen for this specific reason. As she twisted the knob to open the door, Elsa gestured for Jack to go inside first. He gave her a curt nod and obeyed, after which the Snow Queen then plucked a Christmas candle from a nearby window and followed him in.

Click.

And they were alone.

Closing her eyes, the Fifth Spirit breathed in, mustering her courage. Gripping the candle holder, she then turned to face him, trying to hide how much her trembling hands were sending the faint light dancing across the tiny room.

"You've been avoiding me," Elsa shook.

Jack huffed, shaking his head and glancing to the side. Sticking his free hand into his pocket, he then grinned bitterly, looking up at her again with an indiscernible expression on his face.

"You think I'm scum," Jack replied matter-of-factly.

Elsa's throat tightened. "Jack, I—"

"—HOW could you think I would do that to you?!"

"I—"

"—I couldn't DO that!" Jack stammered, "I mean, I couldn't do that to anyone, but—but Elsa, especially not you! I mean, you're brave, and you're smart, and you're about the sweetest person I've ever—!"

Elsa's eyes widened, and Jack stopped talking. His cheeks and ears turning pink, he then shoved his fingers into his hair in anxiety, his hood falling back off his head.

"Let me start over," Jack choked. He swallowed with effort. "I can't believe that you thought I was the type of scumbag who'd do that, but—you did. And you did, because I've been a creep, and you deserve so much more than—!"

He cut himself off, squeezing his eyes shut as he curled his fingers into a fist, at a loss for words. Pulling in his breath, he gave his head a quick shake.

"I wouldn't do that," Jack whispered intensely. "I could never, ever do that, Elsa."

His face filled with pain, he opened his eyes again. They were desperate, as they stared into her own, the candlelight shimmering off their surfaces.

The Fifth Spirit's heart flipped.

"I believe you," she quavered.

He raised his eyebrows. "You didn't."

"But I do now," Elsa pressed, her voice slightly stronger, "And I didn't really think you'd do it then, but given the circumstances, and—well, I didn't believe in you, and I'm sorry I—"

"—NO."

She cut herself off. Jack's gaze was suddenly brimming with fury, his pointer finger held aloft to stop her.

"YOU are NOT about to apologize for something I did," Jack gritted. "I'm the one at fault here, and if I hadn't acted like a—didn't—treat you right."

"You really—"

"—I didn't."

She fell quiet. Jack's face was contorted in pain once again as Elsa placed the candle onto a nearby shelf, the winter spirit gripping his staff with both hands and cowering behind it as he stared at the floor in shame.

"I've been a jerk. And I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You only feared me because I've been a selfish scumbag, and I'm sorry. I am so—so—sorry."

She was at a loss for words.

Her throat tight with anxiety, Elsa bit her lip, clasping her hands together tightly in front of her skirt. A fresh wave of guilt sweeping over her, she swallowed, needing to reassure him, to downplay it, desperate to justify—

Everything.

"Technically," Elsa choked, "I grabbed you. And I know that you were really just kind of responding, to—"

"—Take it way too far?"

Their eyes locked, Jack's gaze both solemn and challenging in its intensity. Elsa swallowed hard, blushing furiously. It had gone too far. And she hadn't been okay with it.

But—!

"See?" Jack laughed bitterly, making her jump out of the stupor, "This is exactly what I mean, Elsa. And I don't know how I'm supposed to explain to you that it's bad."

"Because you're acting like it's all your fault, when—"

"—I'm the guy!" Jack snapped, gesturing to himself, "I'm responsible!"

Elsa bit her lip, crossing her arms over her chest. "See, I don't think that's entirely true," she countered softly.

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

"Agree—to disagree," Jack gritted.

The two winter spirits once again stared each other down in silence, an icy, awkward tension falling over the dimly-lit supply closet.

Queen Elsa gulped down another lump of shame that had been building in her throat, closing her eyes for a moment and carefully selecting her words. "Jack… I appreciate that you're taking so much responsibility for what happened," she stammered, "I do. Really. But I also think that you're taking way too much of the blame, when I was the one being really—um."

Jack Frost raised a single eyebrow in her direction, his glare practically boring holes through her skull. Wincing, Elsa swallowed again.

"Aggressive," she choked, stumbling over the word as he turned away, scoffing under his breath and leaning his staff up against the side of the supply closet. "And from what you've told me—well, I would assume that it must have been really tempting, when you've never had an opportunity before t—"

"—NEVER had an OPPORTUNITY!"

Elsa stumbled back a step in shock as Jack Frost jolted, whipping around again to face her with his mouth actually hanging open in disbelief. The Guardian's cheeks flushed, and he let out a breathy, frustrated laugh.

"You know what? Thank you. THANK YOU," Jack spat, his expression hardening as he straightened, pressing his hands together and rocking them forward to punctate his words, "For pointing that out to me, Elsa! Because, you're right. You're right! I've never, EVER, found myself in a single sketchy or tempting situation before in my life!"

Chuckling bitterly under his breath, Jack pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. With Elsa staring at him in confusion, he then opened his eyes, looking back up into her gaze with a glare.

"In three centuries," the Spirit of Winter enunciated, dropping his voice to a whisper and leaning an inch towards her, "I can tell you that no lady has ever changed clothes with the curtains open. Or, or, decided to—let's see," he scoffed, starting to count on his fingers, "Go ahead and strip with some girlfriends in the summer go for a swim, or run off somewhere with a lover to get frisky in the middle of the night, or anything like that! Because 'no one could see them?' Yeah, it's never happened before, Elsa."

The Snow Queen shrank in shame, blushing furiously.

"Oh! And, did we mention?" Jack balked again in frustration, "The part where I can touch people in their SLEEP?"

Queen Elsa jolted. "How did you—"

"—Tripped on a homeless guy. And I got all excited, and I started trying to talk to him, and—wait, it—it doesn't matter; that's not the point. The point," Jack stammered helplessly, waving his hands back and forth to brush away the story, "Is that—in three—HUNDRED YEARS—I definitely, absolutely, HAVEN'T had every opportunity in the WORLD to do whatever. Terrible. Thing. I. WANTED. Because—! Funny thing about being invisible—your highness!"

Jack spat the word like an insult, making Elsa wince. The Spirit of Winter then let out a bitter huff, leaning forward again and holding his arms out to his sides.

"No accountability," Jack Frost whispered.

Elsa's breath caught.

Flurries of snow were now softly floating down around them in the supply closet, glistening in the candlelight as they fell. After a few moments of silence, Elsa watched as the Guardian pulled in a long, trembling breath, his arms starting to sink in the air.

"It's just you," he shook, "And what you believe in. And I believe that some things are WRONG, OKAY?!"

Jack's chest was rapidly rising up and down as he struggled to keep his breathing even, his gaze visibly blurring with tears. Fighting it, he squeezed his eyes shut, sticking his hands into his front pocket and hunching into them.

"So maybe," he choked, his voice breaking with emotion, "Just—maybe—Elsa—I haven't spent the last THREE HUNDRED YEARS actively turning around, and looking away, and restraining and restraining and restraining and RESTRAINING from checking out literally a million things that I never wanted to see, just so I could finally, FIN-AL-LY," he groaned, "Get this one, legitimate CHANCE of my own, and—and MESS EVERYTHING UP NOW!"

Jack's eyes flew open, his gaze locking onto hers with a pure, pleading agony as his chin started quavering.

Realizing with terror that he was about to lose control, the Spirit of Winter frantically spun away from her, gripping the bridge of his nose with his fingertips and taking two paces from the Snow Queen to the back of the supply closet. He gasped—and then he gasped again.

Heaving a sob, the immortal, 319-year-old Guardian of Fun then completely broke, trying in vain to hide his face. Staring at her childhood hero in horror as his back and shoulders began to shake uncontrollably with tears, Queen Elsa could practically feel her heart stop beating as the terrible realization sank in.

Jack Frost was crying.

The Fifth Spirit was paralyzed in her place, every muscle in her body frozen. Wanting to cry out in protest, to rush forward and fling her arms around his body, Elsa fought to restrain herself, tightly crossing her arms over her chest and feeling devastatingly useless as the nausea swept over her. She'd seen him cry before, but these tears felt—different. And worse. This brilliant, sweet young man hadn't only suffered from three hundred years of loneliness, or confusion, or an amnesia-induced identity crisis. There existed another layer to him: a specific brand of pain that the Snow Queen knew all too well, remembering the horrifying moments in which she'd held the body of her frozen sister out on the fjord, after all those years of hearing Anna's knocking at her bedroom door and knowing in her heart that there was no possible way she could both protect her sister and open it.

This was the agony of unrecognized, prolonged restraint... that had been for nothing.

Snowflakes were falling harder and faster around Jack's body now, the temperature of the entire supply closet dropping as the sound of his strangled sobs filled the space. His pain was actually palpable, snowflakes falling harder from the ceiling and starting to pile up into tiny drifts on the floor.

"You haven't messed up," she quavered.

Jack sniffled and wiped his arm across his nose, still hiding his face from her. Elsa shyly took a step towards him, trying to give him space, but lingering just close enough so that he would know he wasn't alone.

"You haven't messed up," she repeated, this time a bit louder.

He gasped for air, trying to straighten up. Wiping his arm across his face again, Jack then gave his head a vigorous shake, taking slow, deep breaths as he fought to regain control. Unable to restrain any longer as she watched him struggle to pull himself together, Elsa flipped her hand forward.

Shing! An icy handkerchief flicked into existence, and she held it out, hovering just past his shoulder. At first, Jack didn't notice, but then—seeing it in his peripheral vision—he jolted slightly, reaching across and snatching it without turning around. Quickly blowing his nose as quietly as he could, the Spirit of Winter then stuffed the handkerchief into his front pocket, his ears turning pink in the candlelight.

"The Man in the Moon," Elsa tried again, her voice hardly more than a whisper, "You had no instructions, or anything? For—three hundred years?"

Jack pulled in a shaky breath and gripped the bridge of his nose again, still hunched over and hiding. Giving another sniff, he nodded.

"Yeah," he choked.

He moved his hands to his hair, running his fingers through it. As it fell back into place, a few snowflakes falling from it as it did so, he pulled his hands onto the back of his neck, letting them stay there.

"I mean—it gets easier," Jack whimpered, hesitantly starting to turn back a little bit towards her, "You just—decide to not give in. To temptation. And then you—keep doing that."

"But why—how could—?"

Pulling his hands down again to reach into his pocket, Jack took the ice handkerchief back out and rubbed it across his nose again, still not yet daring to turn all the way around. From the edge of his face, Elsa could see his eyebrows lift the tiniest bit, his eyes puffy and bloodshot.

Her lungs clenched.

An instant later, Queen Elsa's blood was boiling in vicarious fury. "If the Man in the Moon is so wonderful, how could he just leave you like that?" she exclaimed, "How could—why—?"

She shook her head, her heart pounding. The Youngest Guardian let his head fall to the side with a tiny huff. He then placed his hands on his hips, the softly falling snowflakes starting to slow as the winter spirit began to regain control.

"A job interview," he said quietly.

Elsa's eyes widened.

A pensive expression creeping over his features, Jack's facial muscles relaxed by the tiniest bit. "I—didn't know I was being watched," he admitted, his voice still shaky as he turned all the way back around to face her. "The thing with my sister caught Manny's attention, but—that was only the beginning. So, he brought me back, and gave me powers, and then—stepped away. I think he wanted to see what I'd do."

He shrugged and looked to where he had earlier leaned his staff against the side of the supply closet, staring at the shepherd's crook for a long moment. The edge of Jack's mouth then twitched into a bitter, exhausted hint of a smile, and he reached out to pick it up, tossing it to himself and letting his fingers curl around it, clearly familiar with every notch and crevice of the gnarled wood.

"Apparently I impressed him," Jack admitted, staring at the shepherd's crook while he ran his thumb over its edge. "So—I have the Guardian thing now."

The Spirit of Winter gave a tiny shrug, sticking his free hand into his pocket again. Wordlessly, Elsa simply stared at him, watching the movements of his beautiful, downcast eyes.

From the moment they'd met, the Fifth Spirit had found Jack Frost's eyes to be incredible. They were startlingly blue, marked with snowflakes, sparkling with fun and sharp with intelligence. But now, like she was truly seeing him for the first time, she saw something more: a quiet intensity that she hadn't before been quite able to place; a now clear and startlingly obvious reason for why Jack, specifically, had been chosen for his position.

Was this… honor?

Queen Elsa felt a sudden lightness in her body, her heart actually giving a quick flutter as she gazed at him in longing. She'd wanted to trust Jack Frost. She had ALWAYS wanted that. And she'd felt like she could trust him. Jack wasn't perfect, of course, and she knew that, but there were levels—and this whole time, wondering if he was going to suddenly fly away, wondering if he was just using her, wondering if he was actually even a fraction as wonderful as he seemed to be, and—

"I mean!" Jack scoffed suddenly, making her jolt back into the present as he shook his head, "Don't get me wrong—some people might think that taking three hundred years to conduct a job interview, is a little," he paused to glare at the ceiling and raise his voice, "EXCESSIVE! But—I think I kind of get where he was coming from, now."

Feeling unnaturally warm, Elsa bit down hard on her lip, crossing her arms over her chest to restrain from the sudden and intense urge to actually step up to the Guardian of Fun and nuzzle her cheek into his shoulder. "What do you mean?" she squeaked, trying to sound natural.

"Elsa… I'm a Guardian of Childhood."

Jack Frost reached up and rubbed the back of his neck again, his handsome mouth twitched to the side. He looked back into her eyes, his piercing, incredible gaze solemn once again.

"You don't give that sort of job to a creep," he added, a passionate edge on his voice.

Her heart still pounding, Elsa nodded—that did make sense—but then paused.

"I thought you said you were a Guardian of Children?" she asked quizzically.

"Children—Childhood—! Look, if you've taken the children out of childhood, then you've lost the whole point," Jack stammered, his cheeks turning a pink as he gestured, "I see them as being the same thing, and—well, it—!"

He cut himself off, giving his head a shake. Closing his eyes, the Guardian of Fun then took a deep breath.

"Will you, Jack Frost, vow to watch over the children of the world," he recited, "To guard them with your life; their hopes, their wishes, and their dreams—for they are all that we have, all that we are, and all we will ever hope to be."

He fell quiet, swallowing with effort. Shyly looking up, Jack then opened his eyes, their intensity and depth rendering Elsa breathless once again.

"Your oath," she realized, giving herself another quick shake as she inwardly swooned. "You said you took an oath. Is that it?"

"North made me memorize it."

Jack looked down to his feet, gulping again. He pulled in his breath.

"I could never hurt you, Elsa," he choked. "And I—you have to know that."

Seeing the pain in his face, she quickly sobered, his agony feeling like a stab to the heart. Gulping as well, Elsa bit the edge of her lip and clasped her hands together in front of her skirt.

"I'm not a child, Jack," she said quietly.

"Yeah, but—that's just it."

The Guardian shook his head, shifting his hand on the staff. She instinctually leaned an inch closer as he drew in a long, careful breath. "People might stop believing in us," he told her, "But—deep down inside?"

He stopped, shaking his head before looking back up into her face.

"Just about nobody ever—completely—stops being a kid," Jack Frost said quietly. "So—my oath applies to you, too."

After another moment of nervous eye contact, the Spirit of Winter crumbled once again, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down to the floor with his white hair falling forward in his face.

Elsa stared at him in awe, once again restraining from her desire to throw her arms around him, to hold him and kiss him and tell him that he was never, ever, going to feel unappreciated EVER again. But she couldn't do that—if she came on too strong while he was just starting to open up, he would feel exposed, and then rush back inside himself to hide. She wasn't particularly good at reading people, but—that was a feeling that the Snow Queen of Arendelle knew all too well. If only there were some way to tell him. To comfort him. If only she—!

"You left this," Elsa blurted suddenly.

A look on confusion swept Jack's face as the Snow Queen walked up to him, holding up her little bag. Pulling open the drawstring, she reached in and took out the heart ornament, its icy shape sparkling in the candlelight.

Realizing what it was, Jack's eyes bulged, his face going pale. "I—!" he stammered, starting to blush, "I—uh, I didn't realize I'd left—wait."

His voice trailed off as he took the ornament, his gaze shifting as he studied it. A few moments later, his eyes widened once again.

"You fixed it," Jack realized.

He looked up. Elsa nodded, clasping her hands together in front of her skirt once again.

"I'm sorry I broke it," she said quietly.

They stared at each other for a few long moments, a gentle silence falling over the room like a blanket of freshly-fallen snow.

Elsa pulled in her breath.

"When I—um—break things," she added quietly, as if afraid of disturbing the sudden quiet, "I think it's really important to—try and fix them."

He nodded, saying nothing. Letting the staff fall back into the crook of his elbow, its end still resting on the floor, she watched as he looked back down to the ornament, gingerly running his fingers over the mended fissure. He hadn't yet turned it over—and the second heart was still on the other side.

"I—never fully realized that you had this side to you," Elsa added, gesturing to the intricate piece, "It must have taken a lot of work for you to make it like that."

"Oh. Uh—thanks."

He bit the edge of his lip, feeling the ornament's weight.

"It did," Jack admitted.

He laughed self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked up to Elsa with a sheepish grin. Her anxiety waning, she laughed as well, her heart light at the vision of his smile. "Well, I think your heart is beautiful," she giggled.

Jack stopped laughing.

His eyes wide, he looked to her in surprise, his breath hitched. After a moment, his face fell.

"Oh—you mean—um," Jack muttered, "The—this."

Her lungs clenched with panic as she realized what she had just said, and Elsa nodded frantically. "Right."

"The ornament."

"Yes. The—um," she stammered. "Ornament. Of course."

Queen Elsa! called a voice.

The Fifth Spirit straightened. From somewhere outside the door of the supply closet, she could hear someone calling for her.

"I—um," she said quickly, "I have to go—I've—I've gotta go."

She reach for the door handle, missing it, and then catching it on her second attempt. Blushing, she twisted it.

Chunk.

The door swung outwards, and Elsa picked up the edge of her capelet, starting to step out into the hallway. Placing her other hand on the doorframe, she then paused.

"Actually?" she decided. "No."

Jack looked up again in surprise, his eyebrows lifting as the Fifth Spirit set her jaw. Elsa turned back around to face him, pulling the door shut again behind her.

"That's not what I mean," Elsa corrected, her eyes narrowing with determination as the latch slid into place with a click. "I'm not talking about the ornament. I mean—not that it isn't beautiful, because it's, it is, but—!"

Flustered, she squeezed her eyes shut as she frantically waved her hands back and forth, cutting herself off. Taking a moment to gather her courage, Elsa pulled in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly to calm her racing heart.

The Fifth Spirit opened her eyes, starting to walk towards him as she spoke.

"Jack... I think... that your heart," Elsa said quietly, staring intensely into his eyes as she came up to him. "Is beautiful."

The Snow Queen reached up and placed her palm flat on Jack Frost's chest.

The Guardian's breath caught, his grip tightening on the ornament as his lungs quickly expanded and contracted beneath her palm, his heart pounding so hard that she could feel it without effort through the ice-dusted cloth of his shirt. "Elsa," Jack squeaked, "I—!"

On a sudden rush of resolve, Elsa stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

The Spirit of Winter froze again mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open in shock. Swallowing hard as her cheeks started to heat—suddenly self-conscious—the Fifth Spirit then gingerly pulled her hand off of his shirt, bowing her head and stumbling back a few paces towards the door.

"I—um," she stammered hopefully, whisking her capelet out of the way. "I really hope to see you at the Ball tonight."

She took another step back, reaching the door handle and miraculously catching it. Jack Frost still couldn't speak, staring at her in wide-eyed disbelief.

Grasping the handle, Elsa pushed the door out a few inches, then pausing to look back at him.

"I want to have at least one good dance," she added quickly.

Elsa shot Jack a nervous smile, her heart pounding as the flabbergasted Spirit of Winter continued to simply stare in silence. Feeling the very last ounce of her courage crumbling away, Queen Elsa then turned from her childhood hero and fled the tiny room.

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(ANOTHER) AUTHOR'S NOTE: Remember how I said that the chapter "Anything" is going to be chopped in half? Okay, I plan on doing it as I post the next one, and this is a JUST SO YOU KNOW note to inform everybody that—the next time I post—it's going to look like it's two new chapters, but it'll actually just be me posting one new chapter and splitting up that other chapter at the same time. Thanks again for reading, I hope this takes care of any potential confusion in advance, and have a fantabulous day! :D