Cryomancy, Chapter 2: Arendelle
Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or RotG.

A mouthful of dirt was not the grand entrance Jack had hoped to make upon arriving in Arendelle. And yet, he rubbed his tongue with the sleeve of his blue hoodie to get the taste out. Sputtering, he looked up and glared at the moon, still visible despite the onset of daylight.

"Coulda put me down nice and slow, you know. Damn."

As usual, there was no answer. If Jack had not heard the Man in the Moon speak to the Guardians of Pitch's actions, he may have gone on believing he'd dreamed the voice up. Now they were back to the silent treatment. Business as usual.

Whatever, he thought bitterly.

Jack picked himself up and looked around. He'd landed somewhere at the base of a mountain chain. Up higher, snowy peaks reached for the morning heavens, pink and orange bleeding into the stygian night sky as the sun crept higher in the east. The moon sank on the western horizon, and Jack was alone. He sighed and snowflakes swirled before him. He swatted them away, frowning. Weird, that had never happened before.

In the distance Jack could hear bells tolling. He walked beyond the few trees in the area to get a better view. Below and in the distance, a city stretched out for miles among the base of the mountains surrounded by lakes and rivers. Beyond it a giant waterfall disappeared among the forest. A castle made of stone was the tallest building in the settlement, grand and decorated with green banners and flags. He couldn't make out any people from this distance, but Jack could imagine them all waking and preparing for a busy day ahead. He got a strange sense of deja-vu that reminded him of his old life, a life before Jack Frost. This surely was another world, as North had said, and one stuck in a different era than modern-day Burgess, Pennsylvania.

"Somewhere over the rainbow much," Jack said, leaning on his staff. "And now to find the wicked witch."

The only clue to Pitch's whereabouts Jack had at the moment was Arendelle. So to Arendelle Jack would go. He raised two fingers to his lips and whistled for a strong wind. When it swept him off his feet, Jack nearly dropped his staff under the force of the gale.

"Whoa!"

Jack somersaulted in mid-air four times over before getting his bearings. Okay, so maybe he'd overdone it a little. The winds here were just stronger than the ones back home. Duly noted. The night sky receded to day in the half hour it took Jack to reach the outskirts of Arendell proper. He touched down just outside the gates, which were open to admit travellers. Guards stood watch but Jack strolled right past them.

One can imagine Jack's utter astonishment when one of the guards stopped him with a fearsome spear to the chest.

"State your purpose in Arendelle, sir."

A few seconds ticked by and Jack peered over his shoulder. There was no one else around.

"Sir, your name and purpose."

Jack turned back to the guard, whose face was concealed by an iron helmet. He was decked out in medieval armor, and the spear in his hand did not look very inviting.

"Are you talking to me?" Jack asked.

The guard brought his spear down and tapped its end on the ground. "Who else would I be talking to?"

Jack's stomach threatened to exit his mouth like one of those alien-looking jungle slugs you see on the Discovery Channel. Only recently, children had begun to believe in and see him. But adults? Jack had never even considered the possibility. Something was amiss, but the child in him was bursting with laughter. Mostly at the image of himself as a slug with a rogue stomach.

"So...you can see me," he said.

The guard began to grow impatient. "Sir, I'll have to turn you away unless you comply with our regulations and state your purpose."

On second thought, his visibility now was an annoyance. Jack had never been anything more than indifferent about his invisibility on his best days, but now he sort of wished for it if only to make things easier on himself. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Best not to chance that giant fire poker.

"Uh, I'm Jack. Purpose? I guess I'm looking for a...friend of mine. I heard he might be here visiting."

The guard hesitated, suspicious, and Jack considered just skating by.

"I'm just passing through," Jack added. "I don't plan to stay long or cause any trouble." Much.

He plastered his best (cheesiest) smile on his youthful face, the one that made him look fourteen instead of nineteen, and it worked. The guard lifted his spear and stepped aside.

"Welcome to Arendelle."

Jack skipped past the guard and saluted him. "Thanks, dude!"

Once inside, Jack slowed to a walk and ran a hand through his hair, reeling. He chanced a look around. The roads were all hand-laid cobblestone and the houses were made of stone bricks. Ships docked in the harbors and sailors loaded and unloaded crates of wares, probably for trade. Women and men shopped at the morning markets for produce and the day's catch. Jack even heard a blacksmith hammering away in a shop he passed. The people he walked by on the streets all shot him curious looks, perhaps because of his strange attire.

They can really see me, Jack marvelled. He could have cried in some weird outburst of joy and a little sadness and the irony of having to travel to another dimension to be noticed. In fact, he did.

"The hell...?"

Jack had never been able to cry since his rebirth as the spirit of winter. His tears froze on his cheeks like miniature pearls, hardened ice that reflected the sun. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

Absurd.

He laughed out loud.

The next person who walked by, an old lady, gave him an odd look. Jack waved and bid her 'good morning, ma'am,' and she returned the greeting with a shy smile. He laughed some more.

Jack walked through the town with a hand in his pocket, his eyes darting around and taking in the surroundings. Looking at Arendelle, Jack was nostalgic for his previous life as a colonist in fledgling America. He hadn't had much then, but it had been enough. It had been his to share with the sister he'd loved more than anything. He'd never dreamed that there might be other worlds, alternate timelines, and now he felt silly that he hadn't. If people like Santa Claus were real, then surely a place like Arendell was no further stretch of the imagination. Children ran up and down the street playing tag, and Jack stopped to watch them, smiling. It was still early in the fall and the leaves hadn't changed yet. Much too early for frost, though Jack was tempted to have a little fun and make the children laugh.

The children, two little boys and a girl, noticed Jack's approach and stood up straight. Jack faltered at their formality.

"Whoa, at ease, men," Jack said.

The little boys exchange wide-eyed looks, and Jack chuckled.

"I'm Jack. What're your names?"

They didn't answer, and the boys kept their heads down. The girl, a little redhead with dark eyes, peered up at Jack. Jack touched his face and his chest. Still solid, right?

"Hey, you guys wouldn't know anything about nightmares, wouldya? Have you been having any scary dreams lately?"

The little boys exchanged a look like they'd been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. "No, sir," they said in unison.

Jack got the strangest sensation that they were a little wary of him. It was not a happy feeling. Granted, his appearance was odd in this world and the next, but he meant no harm, especially not to children.

"You should see the queen, Mister," the little girl said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

One of the little boys perked up, apprehension forgotten. "Queen Elsa knows everything!"

Jack frowned. "The queen? Do you think she would know about any nightmares?"

The boys scrunched up their faces, confused. Jack decided he better try asking some adults, since they could see him. Perhaps this queen.

"You're sparkling, like her," the little girl said.

"Huh?"

She pointed somewhere behind Jack, and he looked around. Melting footprints followed him to his current position, frosted imprints on the stone that had birthed inverted icicles. They glittered in the morning sunlight. He let his jaw hang open. First the snowflake breath, now this. He hadn't even noticed he was conjuring. The thought was more than a little alarming. Jack had struggled to control his powers in the past, and only since Pitch's defeat had he mastered them. Now, all that hard work seemed to be going up in flames. This was potentially dangerous.

He turned back to the children, but they'd run off, probably to find their parents. Jack rose and tapped his staff on the ground. Frost fractals bloomed at its base without his consent, and he narrowed his eyes. This place was weird. People could see him as if he were real, and his cryokinetic powers had risen to new (uncontrollable) heights. He could almost smell the magic permeating this land. The fact that Pitch was out here somewhere alarmed Jack even more. It couldn't have been a coincidence that Pitch had chosen to come here.

"What are you up to, Pitch?"

Jack would find no answers merely standing here. Ahead, at the end of the promenade, stood Arendelle castle, tall and imposing. With nothing else to go on, Jack figured he might as well pay a visit to this Queen Elsa. Maybe she could explain the magic here, at the very least. Decided, Jack made his way to the castle. His footsteps glistened behind him like a trail of frozen morning dew.

The palace courtyard was open to the public, and families enjoyed activities such as kite flying and painting on this warm day. Jack walked among them, silent as he observed. Those who noticed him gave him odd looks, and he decided he should think about getting some more suitable clothing for his stay at some point. By now the sun had risen high enough to warm even Jack's frozen skin. He closed his eyes for a moment and drank it in.

The castle was removed from the city and sat on a lake, floating. Jack watched his reflection in the water as he walked by, rippling and warped. He made some faces and watched the water change, like a funhouse of mirrors at a carnival. A young couple passed him and raised their eyebrows at his antics, and Jack bit back a laugh. He'd been spending way too much time around only children to blend in easily among adults his own age, he supposed. Note to self.

Lost in thought, Jack wandered into the palace's receiving room only to encounter a long queue of people standing around talking. From the looks of them, they were ordinary citizens. One man, a farmer no doubt, carried a bushel of carrots under his arm, but they appeared rotten. A few children stood in line wiping tears from their dirty faces. More comfortable with children than with adults, Jack approached a little boy trying his hardest not to cry.

"Hey, what's wrong, kid?"

The little boy jumped at Jack's sudden proximity, and he shivered. Jack's expression fell, and he pulled back a bit. Even his mere presence brought a cold front here.

"You're so cold," the little boy said, his watering green eyes wide with wonder and a little fear.

"Ah, yeah, most kids think I'm pretty cool," Jack said, grinning. "So...why're you crying?"

At the mention of tears, the little boy remembered that he had, in fact, been crying, and his face fell. "It's my father. He's real sick."

"Oh man, that's awful."

"But the queen can help!" the little boy insisted. "She knows doctors who can make my father all better. I'm gonna ask her help."

"You mean Queen Elsa?"

The little boy nodded. "Yeah, she helps everyone. Princess Anna, too."

"So that's why you're waiting in line, then? To see them?"

"Yep. Are you sick, too, Mister? You look dead."

Jack frowned and felt his face. Cold to the touch, as always, though he was used to it. The way the kid said it, like death was part and parcel to his everyday existence, unsettled Jack. It was probably nothing, but...

"Well, I'm here talking to you, so I can't be dead, right?"

"Unless you're a ghost. Are you a ghost?" the little boy whispered, his eyes growing impossibly wider.

"Nah, but I can do this." Jack snapped his fingers and a few snowflakes materialized. One landed on the little boy's nose, and he sneezed.

"Wow!" The little boy tried to catch the falling flurries, his tears forgotten.

"Nick, c'mon, time to go in," an older girl said, tugging the young boy along.

"Didya see that?" the little boy asked his sister.

Jack waved, but the small family had disappeared inside the receiving chambers. Rising, Jack looked back at the rest of the line. It stretched all the way outside. He was going to be here for awhile if he wanted a chance to see the queen. Resigning himself to a boring morning, he dragged his feet and found a place at the back of the line. He pulled his hood over his head to avoid at least some attention. His clothes and bare feet were out of place enough as it were. No need to explain to curious civilians why his hair was as white as a corpse's.

The minutes ticked by and the line moved slowly, but it did move. Jack watched the sun in rise higher in the sky from under his hood. Some of the palace guards gave him strange looks, and he did his best to look non-threatening. If people could see him here, he had to be on his best behavior. Having to stomp on his own icy footprints was less than subtle, but he focused on regulating his magic at least enough to stop leaving discernible traces.

After about three hours of waiting, Jack was at the front of the line. There weren't many people behind him now, and he wondered if the queen had a set time frame for meeting with complainants. Jack was about to sit on the floor to wait out his turn when he sensed a commotion from the palace gates.

"What do you mean, you lost him?" a woman's voice said.

"Hey now, lost is such a strong word. You know Olaf, he kinda blends in."

A sturdy blond man followed a pretty woman with braids in her auburn hair—a high born lady, judging from her attire—through the castle gates and past the line of complainants toward the inner palace. He was scratching his head and looking flustered. Jack watched them, curious.

"It's not even winter. There's no snow, so how could he blend in with anything?" The woman threw her hands up, exasperated. "Oh man. What if he's been run over by stampeding reindeer? What if some kids got the wrong idea about him? Oh Kristoff, this is terrible!"

"Anna, calm down. Sven'll find him."

"And how do you know that?"

"Well, Sven promised he would."

Anna sighed turned away from her companion. "You mean you promised while impersonating him. What am I going to tell Elsa? Remember the last time Olaf got lost?"

Kristoff bit his lip. "Yeah... That was bad."

"I'm just saying it's a good thing he's so malleable or Elsa would've had her hands full putting him back together after that freak dog sled incident."

Jack chuckled at their expense. It wasn't often that he saw such an imposing man cowed under a woman's sharp tongue. Children rarely had this type of interaction, so Jack had only ever watched it from afar. Adults, he supposed, had their shining moments, too.

"Come on, let's go talk to Elsa and get it over with. I'm sure she'll want to help look for Olaf."

Anna pulled Kristoff forward and they cut directly in front of Jack, disappearing into the receiving room where the queen supposedly awaited complainants. Jack thought about telling them they should take a number like everyone else, but thought better of it at the last second. No need to draw unwanted attention until he got what he came for.

The lacquered doubled doors to the receiving room opened and the group of townspeople that had been in line ahead of him brushed past Jack looking less anxious than they had when they'd gone in twenty minutes ago. Never one to wait around for things to come to him, Jack thought little of Anna and Kristoff being inside already. He'd waited all morning, damnit, and it was his turn to see the queen. So inside Jack went.

The room was wide and high-ceilinged. A thick, maroon rug stretched over black marble tiling from the doorway to the other end of the room where a lavish throne sat. It glistened in the sunlight diffusing through tall windows, almost translucent. Chandeliers hung from wooden rafters above. The plastered walls were painted green with gold ivy trimming. He walked along the rug toward the throne. Anna and Kristoff were there, and they were talking to someone Jack couldn't quite make out.

"So where was the last place you saw him, again?" came a woman's voice.

"Apparently, Kristoff took him to a pub and the natives got a bit restless," Anna said. "You know, and by natives I mean town drunks."

"Yes, I figured as much..."

"Whoa whoa, ladies, please. Olaf's a big boy. He'll be fine. Everyone knows him around here, too. I'm sure Sven'll find him and this'll all be a funny joke later tonight—" Kristoff began.

"You sent a reindeer to find Olaf? Why would you do such a thing?" the woman said.

"Uh, because Sven promised to find him."

"Aaaaand we're back to willful impersonation," Anna said.

"Halt," a guard said, stepping in front of Jack and blocking his path before Jack could hear the rest of the conversation. "Her Majesty is preoccupied. Complaints are over for the day. Please return to your home and come back tomorrow."

"Huh? But I just waited like three hours to see her, man!" Jack said. "My time is money, you know."

"It matters not. Please leave immediately or I will forcibly escort you out."

Jack was ready to give this guy a mouthful of snow when the doors behind him burst open with a loud crash. A giant reindeer galloped through the hall at top speed, and Jack and the guard had to skid out of the way to avoid a head-on collision. As the animal passed, Jack got a glimpse of a limp, pink tongue slobbering all over its face and ear.

"Honey, I'm hoooome!"

"Olaf!" Anna called.

"Sven!" Kristoff said, running to meet the charging reindeer like it was no risk to his person.

The reindeer tackled Kristoff to the floor and licked his face with the very tongue that had loosed a hurricane of slobber in its wake. Jack would have cringed if not for the very distracting, sentient snowman skipping toward the throne singing the words, 'How do you like me now?' over and over to a tune in his head.

"Olaf, you're alive!" Anna said, pulling the lump of snow into a hug.

Olaf smiled and hugged her back with his stick-like arms. Jack nearly fell over in shock at the sight. A talking snowman.

Well, to be fair, Jack was friends with a six-foot tall talking rabbit that ran around the world leaving smelly eggs on people's doorsteps. Maybe Olaf wasn't such a shock in comparison.

"Dorothy babe, we're really not in Kansas anymore," Jack said aloud.

In the commotion, Jack's hood fell back and exposed him to scrutinizing eyes. Anna had heard his little comment and focused on him.

"Who're you?" she asked.

Kristoff, Olaf, and the queen turned their gazes on Jack, who could only stare back. When he locked eyes with the queen, Jack forgot how to breathe.

"My sister asked you a question," she said, stepping forward. "Who are you?"

She was swathed in ice crystals. He could tell them a mile away. Her throne, too, was crafted of ice upon closer inspection. The air around her was chilly despite the warm, autumn day. He saw it in the way the others' breath steamed if they got too close to her.

"I... Queen Elsa?" Jack stammered.

Elsa frowned. Her blue eyes gave him a once-over, and when she took notice of his feet something shifted in her. She put a protective hand in front of Anna.

"Stand back."

"Elsa—" Anna said.

"I said get back. All of you."

Kristoff took Anna's hand and scooped up Olaf with his free arm, retreating behind Elsa. The queen advanced on Jack. In her wake, the marble floor misted with frost. Elsa raised a hand toward Jack, and it glowed with the makings of a miniature tempest. The threat was clear.

"You have one last chance to speak before I relieve you of the ability forever," Elsa said.

Jack blinked and stared between her eyes and her glowing hand. Perhaps anyone else would have been afraid in his situation. Perhaps he should have been, too. But seeing the world as he did, its beauty frozen in time and reflecting the timeless sun, he could only laugh. So laugh he did.

Elsa faltered and lowered her hand just a bit. The front had cracked, and with it any hope of cowing Jack into submission. Didn't she know? Not knowing was half the fun.

Like he'd done with countless children before, Jack reached out and took her hand in his before she could pull away. As soon as they made contact, the magic Elsa had conjured burst like it was on fire. The temperature in the room plummeted and frost snaked about their entwined hands. A cold mist swirled around them, dusting every available surface with winter's velvet breath. Breath that she'd stolen from him when he'd first laid eyes on her. It was all around them, among them, part of them. And it was gone just as soon as it had appeared.

Elsa yanked her hand back, eyes wide like a caged animal. Her repeated question still hung in the air around them as Anna and the others looked on, huddled for warmth.

Jack swept his staff to the side and bowed low before Elsa. "Jack Frost, at your service."

Elsa could hardly believe her eyes. She'd sensed something strange about Jack when she'd first laid eyes on him, and her thoughts immediately went to Pitch. First him, and now this? She couldn't take any chances with Anna and Kristoff in the room, so she'd neutralized the threat before it could manifest, just in case.

And the threat had laughed in her face.

Elsa composed herself. The hand he'd stolen, the one she now held close to her heart, still tingled with the effects of his magic and hers. So cold, and so familiar.

"You're definitely not Jack Frost," Kristoff said, stepping forward.

Elsa lost her train of thought and peered at Kristoff, who had decided the situation was no danger. She was about to tell him to stand back again, but Jack's voice stopped her.

"So you've heard of me, eh? Guess my reputation precedes me."

"Yeah. Jack Frost, spirit of winter, duh. I know my ice, okay. And you're definitely not him."

Elsa caught Anna's eye, but Anna gave her a blank look.

"Uh, dude, I kind of am. You got something to say to me?"

Kristoff shrugged. "Jack Frost's a wrinkled old fart. You know, Old Man Winter." He gave Jack a noticeable once-over and shook his head in mock disappointment.

Jack smirked, and Elsa decided she did not like the look in his eyes. It spelled trouble, and normal people like Kristoff were not equipped to handle trouble like this.

"Old man? Listen, bro. I've been doing this job going on three hundred years now. Not my problem I age well."

"Three hundred years? But you can't be more than fifteen years old!" Anna said, stepping forward and making to poke Jack in the face to make sure he was real.

Kristoff grabbed her before she could make it. "Fifteen's pushing it, I'd say."

Jack's amusement faded at their teasing. "Nineteen, actually. You got a problem with that?"

In his carelessness, Jack's hands began to glow with winter magic, and Elsa found herself once more. She stamped a heeled foot on the floor, and a wave of ice rushed Jack, knocking him backward. He landed with a thud on his rear, conjuring more frost around the vicinity.

"Ow."

"Is he okay?" Olaf asked, scuttling forward.

Elsa put an arm out to stop him. "Everyone out. The guards, too. I want to speak to our guest alone."

It was too risky to have any normal people in the same room, even trained palace guards, should things take a turn for the worst. Jack winced as he pulled himself up off the floor, making a big show of it, but Elsa was not known for her patience when irritated.

"What are you doing here? Did someone send you here? State your purpose," she demanded.

Jack straightened to his full height, but he leaned on his staff for support as though he might fall asleep at any moment. "Why's everyone here want me to state my purpose? Do you people go around stating purposes on a daily basis? Doesn't that get old?"

Elsa did not appreciate his cheek, and it showed. "Mr. Frost, you—"

"Oh, god, just Jack. Please. I know I'm technically ancient, but give me a break."

Elsa frowned, her determination faltering. It was the second time he'd done that to her today. "...Fine, Jack. Who sent you? If this is supposed to be another of Weselton's assassination attempts, I'm sorry to say it's their most pathetic yet."

Jack perked up. "Assassination? No, you've got the wrong idea. Why would I want to assassinate anyone?"

She studied him for signs of duplicity but found none.

"Hold up, are you saying people've tried to assassinate you before?"

Elsa did not flinch. "Yes. And if you're not here for that, then I can only assume you're here to cause trouble for my people. Leave Arendelle at once."

Jack caught her wrist before she had a chance to pull away, and Elsa reacted on instinct with frozen fire. He caught her offending hand in his, keeping her storm at bay with his own magic. They were at a stalemate, and he wasn't playing around anymore.

"Why can you do that?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

"Why can you?"

"I told you. I'm Jack Frost, the spirit of winter."

Elsa had heard the tale as a child, a silly fairy tale her mother sometimes warned Anna about when Anna wanted to rush outside into the snow without her mittens.

"You don't want Jack Frost nipping at your nose!"

To think that he was real... Elsa had witnessed far stranger phenomena in her life, she supposed.

"...I was born this way. Now release me."

Jack still had one of her wrists and her other hand locked within his larger one as their magic sparked between them. "Promise you won't knock me down again?"

Elsa glared at him. "If you promise not to attack anyone."

"I thought we already established that I'm not some black-ops snow sniper."

"Black what?"

"Uh, never mind. I'm not here to hurt anyone, okay? I just have some questions for you."

Slowly, Jack loosened his grip and released her. She stepped back far enough to put some distance between them, though he didn't bother moving. A quick glance around the room showed that the whole place had frozen over, like a storm had blown through this part of the castle. The ivy on the walls glittered like real gold under the afternoon sunlight, almost too bright. It was like being in a house of glass. Elsa exhaled a shaky breath and produced a few snowflakes that fluttered to the ground, silent.

"Wow," he said, watching her snowflakes fall.

Elsa shot him a suspicious look, and he shook his head.

"Sorry, it's just that I've never met anyone like me. I thought I was the only one for so long."

Elsa had not been expecting such an admission, and it showed. He looked so candid, like he was speaking directly to her. No smirks or sarcasm or parlor tricks.

"...If it's any consolation, I could say the same," she said. It was as sincere as she was willing to get with this man, whose purpose was still a mystery.

He stared at her, suddenly appearing older than he looked. Tired. But it was gone in a flash, and he smiled wide and bright.

"Well, to be honest, I'm here looking for someone. He's hard to miss, so I thought you might have seen or heard of him."

Elsa relaxed a little now that the focus had shifted away from personal matters. "There are many men in my kingdom and those beyond. You'll have to be more specific."

Jack paced the room toward the windows, which were dusted with frost. Elsa watched him trace patterns, fernlings that grew under his guidance. They were more beautiful than any natural leaves.

"Try tall, dark, and shadowy. I mean literal shadows, not the metaphor. Although, he's pretty shady, too." He caught her eye over his shoulder. "Pitch Black's his name, and he has this nasty habit of scaring the crap outta people."

Elsa remained still and impassive as Jack spoke the name of her recent midnight visitor. She should have guessed that things would not end with his departure. Pitch had mentioned the possibility of his future death, and Jack's appearance now was no coincidence. What was going on? Elsa was sure she did not want to be in the middle of it, for Arendelle's sake.

"I know him," she said. "He was here not long ago."

Jack spun around and kicked up a snow flurry. "Wait, seriously? Like, in this castle, here? Where'd he go?"

"He's not here now. This was several days ago." She paused, thinking. "I got the impression that the didn't intend to return."

"I have to find him. I have to bring him back."

"Back?"

"Yeah, back to my world." He shook his head. "I mean, I'm not from around here, obviously. Neither is Pitch. Long story short, I have to bring him back before he does something terrible."

"Something terrible?"

"Yeah, he's no hero, and that's me being nice about it." Jack's gaze was far away and clouded with old memories. "I have to stop him."

Elsa remained silent. From what she had seen of Pitch Black, he was not a force to be reckoned with. He was possessed of a dark power, something ancient and cold, and Elsa had no intention of involving herself or her kingdom with him. But she hadn't thought him evil or nefarious. Perhaps he had an agenda, but everyone did.

"Just because your magic and mine can kill, doesn't mean we must."

Jack didn't strike Elsa as the killing type, contrary to her initial fears over his appearance. Looking at him now, she could see what folly that idea had been. But Anna's safety was Elsa's priority. Better to be safe than sorry.

"Well, I wish you luck with that. But Pitch Black is not here, and he hasn't been for days."

Jack caught Elsa's wrist again as she made to leave, but this time she forced herself not to retaliate. His grip was firm but not painful. She turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"What was he doing here?" Pausing, Jack added, "Did you ask him to state his purpose, too?"

There was something naturally irritating about Jack. It wasn't offensive. It was more like an itch that wasn't bad enough to merit a scratch, but it was still felt. It lingered the way his hand lingered on her wrist, and she debated yanking it free.

"His business was with me. It's not your concern."

Jack stepped closer and pulled her wrist. "It's my concern if he plans on hurting anyone. If he said something to you, I need you to tell me what."

He was too close, and Elsa did not appreciate the violation of her personal space. "I don't have to tell you something that doesn't concern you. Nothing about his visit was hostile in any way. He simply wanted to speak with me, and then he left. I haven't heard from him since. Now, I've been more than gracious with your questions, so take your hand off me."

Jack complied without a fuss. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, just..."

Elsa paused, waiting for him to finish.

"Never mind. He's just bad news, okay? If you hear from him again, tell me. You don't want to get involved with him, trust me."

"Are we done here?" Elsa asked, looking around and assessing the damage they'd done to the receiving room. It was nothing she couldn't handle.

Jack watched her a moment, his expression unreadable. There was that itch again.

"...Sure, if you want. I'll be searching Arendelle until I find Pitch, though. So I'll see you around, I guess."

This time, when Jack tried to leave Elsa snatched his wrist to stop him.

"You're not searching anywhere. You have to leave."

He frowned. "Listen, Elsa. Er, Your Highness. This is Mission: Impossible and I'm Tom Cruise. I can't go back empty-handed or a lot of innocent people will suffer. I don't expect you to get involved or help me, but I have to find Pitch, and I'm not leaving until I do."

Insufferable man. Elsa had no idea who Tom Cruise was or what his connection to all this was, but she knew the look in Jack's eyes. He would not budge on this. It was the same look Anna got when she put her mind to something. "Then if you must stay, you'll stay here."

"What? Like, here here?"

"Obviously. I can't have you running around my kingdom freezing people."

"Hey, I thought I told you that's not my style."

"You did, but accidents happen. One bad one and people could get hurt."

Elsa heard Pitch's voice in her head speaking for her. She believed his words more than ever. For herself, there was no choice in the matter. But for another? Elsa could control Jack's exposure at least so he wouldn't end up killing anyone.

"Actually, I was gonna ask you about that, too. This place... It's like my magic's on speed."

Elsa gave him a blank look. For the life of her, she could not understand his most peculiar dialect. She believed that he was not from around here. He picked up on her confusion and smiled.

"I mean, it's haywire. Look." He pointed to his feet, which left icy footprints in their wake. "It's okay if I concentrate, but this shouldn't be happening at all."

"All the more reason for you to stay where I can keep can eye on you," Elsa said. "Come with me."

She walked toward the door to the inner castle where Anna and Kristoff had disappeared earlier, expecting Jack to follow, but he hung back. Elsa was fast losing her patience with him. It was like he didn't know how to take anything seriously.

"Excuse me. I said, come with me."

Jack ignored her and touched a hand to a frosted wall. "You just gonna leave this place frozen? I kinda feel bad about wrecking your throne room."

Elsa resisted the urge to sigh. "No, of course not." She touched a hand to the wall and leaned into it. Veins of magic snaked along the room's frozen surfaces from her fingertips, thawing the frost as they went. Moisture dripped to the floor, soaking the maroon rug leading to the throne. In a matter of minutes, the walls were back to normal, if not a bit damp.

Jack peered at Elsa's handiwork, thoughtful. "Huh, I've never been able to melt ice, just create it. How'd you do it?"

Elsa ignored his question. "I'll show you to your room. Please don't fall behind." She exited the receiving room without waiting.

Jack, sensing that he'd be left behind, jogged after her. "Hey, wait up!"

They passed some guards standing watch at the doors, and when the guards heard Jack's manner of speaking to their queen, they tightened their grips around their spears. Jack winced.

"I mean, please slow your progress, Your Highness."

His correction did not seem to appease the guards, and Elsa rolled her eyes. "Just Elsa is fine. You don't strike me as one for formalities, and I doubt you have the desire to learn."

She led him up a grand staircase two floors to a corridor with sleeping quarters. Jack hung back a little to admire the lavish interior. He'd spent time in medieval castles in his trips bringing winter to the world over the years. Despite his manner, he could appreciate a piece of history when he saw it, fantasy or not. When he commented on the gothic dragestil architecture he'd noticed examining the castle's impressive exterior, Elsa peered at him, curious.

"The architectural design is native to this land. How do you know so much about it?"

Jack shrugged. "I've seen the style before. Lucky guess."

He smiled, and Elsa looked away. Obviously, it had been more than a lucky guess, yet he insisted on making light of everything. What a strange man. If he truly had been around for as long as he had, she supposed he would have had ample to time to educate himself. She would never guess from the impression he'd made earlier.

"Here we are," she said, arriving at a green-painted wooden door garnished with gold ivy. She opened it and they stepped inside.

The room was a standard guest room for visiting emissaries. A four-poster bed sat against the left wall, its curtains pulled back to air out its ten-too-many pillows. The furniture was tasteful mahogany, including a wardrobe, a desk, and a recess with a small sitting area for tea. Elsa stepped aside so Jack could look around. He whistled and plopped down on a couch under the room's lone triangular window.

"Nice digs," he said, resting his head on his folded arms.

Elsa did not even bother to ask the meaning of that. He looked pleased with his accommodations, and that was all she cared about. Perhaps it would be enough to keep him well behaved while she figured out what to do about his apparent adamancy on finding Pitch Black.

"Stay here," she said. "I'll fetch you once I've attended to some important business matters. Do not leave this room under any circumstances. Do I make myself clear?"

Jack grinned. "You'll fetch me? Doesn't a queen have better things to do than worry about little old me? You know, this could all go a lot smoother if you just let me search on my own. I'd be out of your super-styled hair like that."

He snapped his fingers and a bunch of snowflakes burst from his fingers. He shook his hand to swat them away.

Elsa advanced on him and grabbed his offending fingers. "None of that. You said yourself that you've had difficulties controlling your powers here. Take it as a warning not to engage in whatever tomfoolery you're used to indulging in wherever you came from."

Jack didn't take offense at her harsh demeanor, and Elsa wondered if any of this was registering for him at all. Didn't he understand how dangerous their magic could be to others? Didn't he care?

"You're really paranoid about your magic, huh. Something bad happen in the past?"

Elsa released him as though he'd burned her and stepped back. "That is not your concern. Heed my warning about your magic, Jack Frost, or you'll answer to me."

He watched her a moment, and once again Elsa had the distinct impression that he was truly a soul centuries old and centuries wise despite appearances. A ghost given life and laughter. Perhaps he was who he said he was, a spirit born of ice and snow. It mattered little. He was a potential threat to Arendelle whether he meant to be or not. Elsa had seen the hell her ice powers could wreak upon others, and she had vowed never to allow such a crisis to happen again, by her hand or another's.

"You don't have to worry about me, okay?" He rose and looked her square in the eye. "I would never cause anyone harm with my magic. I promise you that. Whatever this rough patch is... I'll get over it. You obviously have, so it's not like it's impossible."

Elsa said nothing to that. What could she say? That she was just as much of a risk as he was? Pitch had helped get her emotions under control, and she felt the effects every day. No longer did she tread in fear of freezing an unassuming passerby's blood with an inadvertent flick of the wrist. Just when Elsa thought she might relax a little, Jack had to show up and reopen that wound afresh. The irony was not lost on her.

"...I believe you," she said, meaning it. "But all the same, I'd like to keep an eye on you."

He put up his hands in a placating gesture. "Be my guest. Between you and me, you're not the first girl to say that to me."

Elsa pursed her lips, but she declined to rise to the bait. "I'll return as soon as I can and we can discuss this search you seem so determined to pursue. Until then—"

"—stay here, I got it already," Jack interrupted.

An awkward silence descended between them, and Elsa took that as her cue to leave. There was much to do after today's complaints from the townsfolk. Of utmost importance on her to-do list was securing a royal physician for the ailing head of production of Arendelle's prosperous barley trade. The farmer's aggrieved family had pleaded with Elsa to help them, and she'd promised to do everything in her power.

"I'll be going then," she said, her mind already elsewhere.

"Yeah, run along now, Queenie."

Elsa shot him a dirty look over her shoulder and he shrugged like he didn't know what had bothered her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Willing herself not to react to his petty teasing, she closed the door behind her and stomped down the hall, leaving a trail of angry inverted icicles in her wake.

When Olaf happened to wander into her path and point out that she was doing the Stomping Dance again, Elsa waved her hand sent him skating down the opposite hallway with a frosty gale.

"Woohoo!" Olaf whooped as he twirled in midair, riding the currents.

Somewhere inside, the child in Elsa blamed her outburst on Jack.

Insufferable man.