The Smitten Thief

Summary: Jelsa Aladdin style! Jack the resident thief gets caught stealing a loaf of bread. Princess Elsa intervenes during his punishment. Will the thief steal the heart of the fair maiden?

Chapter One:

(A/N) Jelsa Aladdin style! Hey everyone! Hope you all had a fabulous Christmas and Happy New Year! This story is a prezzie for my wonderful friend starmageasuka. She's a wonder to behold and an absolute delight. She's always linking me to some amazing Stitch things (I absolutely adore Stitch to pieces!) She's also contributed amazingly to the jelsa fandom and I felt she deserves a little something just to say thanks for being so awesome! So here you are, mon ami :) xx

P.S This oneshot also serves as proof to my beloved jelsa fandom that I am alive and still kicking. Just been a little down lately after the referendum which took place here in Scotland. I lost my muse after that and I'm still trying to find her. If you see her post here to Scotland would ya. xx

Note: Sjanse-Norwegian for chance or opportunity. Or at least… thats what google translate says. If that isn't what it means then let me say in advance that… I AM SO SORRY! ;A; Google translate and me are on very… questionable terms at the moment. I don't trust a word it says. I tried to rely on it to write a Christmas card in Russian for a friend of mine and lets just say… it goosed up. And that's putting it politely. xx

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or Rise of The Guardians. If I did they would be married by now.

Sitting on the outskirts of Arendelle, nestled away between two imposing snow-capped mountains, rested the large village of Sjanse. The village was Arendelle's second largest trade market, serving primarily in soft commodities; such as produce from the near by farms, fish from the sea which was less than a miles walk away, and most famously its delectable baked goods. As the morning sun rose and glistened above the blanket of forests on the mountains, the village sparked to life like clogwork.

The butchers, barbers and seamstress flipped their shops signs to 'open,' beckoning forth eager customers. Many shopkeepers began hauling out their carts into the main street, filling them with products and neatly displaying them to draw in potential buyers. The baker fired up his oven, and soon enough the sweet aroma of freshly baked goods wafted between the dinky houses and shops, bewitching and enticing passerbyers into digging into their pockets to produce a few copper coins in exchange for Sjanse's famous pastry delights.

Some of the villagers opened their windows to allow sunlight to stream into their humble homes, waving farewell and casting warning out to their children as they hastily flew free from their homes to play outside. Taking advantage of the warm suns rays, the ladies of the village hung out their laundry on the washing lines that criss-crossed across the streets, each jabbering away to their husbands in the background, or their neighbours across the street who were also putting their washing out to dry.

Everyone bustled about, completely content in their own business. Shoppers chittered and chatted to one another, pointing to the goods on display that tickled their fancy. Traders drew up their carriages, readying to stock up before racing along to the near by villages to sell their newly bought goods. Children frolked around gleefully, chanting their songs and playing their games.

It was overall, a typical day in Sjanse, just a peaceful sunny day like any other… but alas... it was not too last.

A shrill scream cut through the air, snatching everyones attention. Heads turned in the direction of the bakers shop at the corner of the main street, everyone pausing in their activities to see what the commotion was about.

"THIEF!" The seamstress cried. She gripped tightly onto the hem of her dark blue skirt as she stormed out of her shop across the road, one long, wrinkled finger pointing accusingly at a wide-eyed hazelnut haired boy.

"I didn't do it!"

"Guards! I saw that no good, ruffian boy take the loaf of bread with my own eyes! I saw him as I sat by my window, waiting for the Milkman to arrive!" The seamstress's voice shrieked out to the guards who had casually been strolling down the road on their routine patrol of the village.

"I didn't take anything! I swear!" The boy interjected, his eyes pleading with the seamstress to be quiet. To show an inkling of mercy.

"My right hand to The Gods, he did!" The old crone of a women insisted, raising a hand to her heart and pulling her navy blue shawl around her tighter. She rushed over to the steadily approaching guards, all the while her finger trained on the boy by the bakers stall that sat just outside his shop, filled with breads and loafs and other freshly baked treats.

The boy watched fearfully, his heart thudding sorely against his chest, as the guards took one look at him, nodded to the women, then headed directly for him. With a shake of his head, and a curse under his breath, he bolted in the opposite direction.

No way am I getting caught this time. No. Way!

With little regard for anyone else, the boy burst through the crowd of customers who had been clustering around to buy from the baker. Some cried out in surprise and outrage at being so abruptly and rudely pushed. A few older men attempted to snare him, but the boy violently shrugged them off, ducking under their outstretched arms and used physical force when necessary; no antic was too dirty, he bite, spat, kicked and punched when necessary. He was like some deranged animal whose only thought was survival.

"Come back here, boy!" The guards called out, taking chase.

The boy fought his way through the crowd and then sprinted quickly round the corner, slipping into the alleyways and leaping over fences to put as much distance between him and his pursuers as possible.

Keep going! Don't stop! Don't you dare stop! You know what they'll do if they catch you again!

Leaping over the final fence, the boy found himself in the busy village square. All around Sellers tried to lure in customers, shouting out about their great deals while their potential buyers either giggled and came over indulgently, or dismissed them and carried on their way. Sitting in the center of the square was a magnificent fountain spewing water, it was made from marble stone and decorated with carvings of frightful water creatures; Mermaids, Nøkken with violins, kelpies and various other water creatures that were believed to lurk in the mysterious deep.

Behind the fountain and through the swarms of people, something caught the boys eyes. A smirk graced his lips. Over at the other end of the square was a trading carriage readying to leave for the next village.

If he could just slip into that carriage unnoticed it would take him out of the village and to safety. He would be scot free! Well... Hopefully. There was a chance they may have gotten a proper look at his face and knew who he was. If they hadn't though-and he prayed to all the deities of the world that they hadn't-then getting into the carriage would be his ticket to freedom! After a few days things would cool down and the guards would all but have forgotten about him. They would be too pre-occupied with ensuring that the village was safe for The King and Queen of Arendelle, whom would be arriving in a few days for their Summer Festival Tour.

Pushing himself off the fence he had just jumped over, the boy made a beeline for the carriage.

Yes! Better luck next time in catching-

A large pair of rough hands grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, yanking him backwards and into a bulky, armoured chest. Two long arms snaked their way across his chest, keeping him firmly in place despite his frantic thrashing.

"Jackson Overland Frost!" The guards croaky voice snapped. It sounded familiar. Jack winced. It was the guard who had captured him last time he had attempted to steal from the market. Aagard, if he remembered correctly. "This is the fourth time in the last month you've been caught red handed!

Jack's throat went dry when more guards emerged from the alleyways, weapons drawn. People were now stopping to stare, their gossiping whispers burning Jack's ears as his face flushed bright red. He could tell what they all thought of him...

Thief.

"Did you think you would get away this, boy? Huh?" Aagard growled, shaking him.

And he knew what was coming now...

More punishments.

"I-"

More suffering.

"Glutton for pain, you are."

More humilation.

"Thats another flogging, boy. Do you think your mother will be proud of you?"

More shame.

Jack hung his head, his vain attempts to wrench himself from the iron grip of the guard ceasing.

What was the point in fighting? They knew who he was. They knew where he lived. Might as well take the beating now, lest he receive it in front of his mother and younger sister later. He didn't want her to see him like this, her big brother whom she thought the world of, brought so low. She didn't deserve to see that, to have her illusion that he was the perfect role model, a saint, something to brag about, shattered. Truthfully, he didn't want her to stop thinking that either. Nor did he want his mother to see what he had become... to see how far down he had fallen in order to provide for them.

How ashamed would they be if they saw him now?

No. He could hardly bare the thought.

He could take the beating. He was use to it. He'd been caught so many times now it was laughable. Everytime he was caught, it was the same punishment. Flogging; a harsh lashing from a leather whip that tore the skin off his back with every slash. That was the penalty if you were caught thieving. But it was worth the risk if it meant there was a chance he could put food on the table back home.

What he couldn't take though, was the look of shame that would be etched upon his mother and sisters faces.

That… that was not something he could live with or ever get use to.

All it would take would be to see that look once, and it would bring his world crashing down.

With an unsteady breath, Jack swallowed down the painful urge to cry. He couldn't do that. He could not cry. He would not cry! Crying was for the weak. Crying got you no where. Crying… was pointless. A pathetic antic that served no purpose.

With no remorse Aagard unceremoniously shoved him to his knees. Jack grunted as his knees scraped against the pebbly road, tearing his already tattered and dirty mahogany shaded trousers.

Two other guards removed his cape and white blouse, leaving his back and chest bare. He didn't fight them on this, not wanting the rest of his clothes to get ruined anymore than they already had. The whipping would tear through them and he doubted he could fabricate a believable explanation to his mother as to why they had became ruined. He watched as the guards tossed his shirt and cape to the ground beside him.

He felt the all too familiar tightening of his chest as he anxiously awaited. His body tensed, bracing for the inevitable thrash of the whip.

This was the worst part. The waiting. The knowing that at any second a hot searing pain would erupt across his back as skin was ripped from his back with a sickening crack of a whip.

Flocks of people, curious of the commotion, had now began circling around him and the guards. Their shadows fell over him, draping him in darkness. From all sides their gossiping whispers echoed in his scarlet ears.

Then again, maybe this was worst part. Having to endure the spectators gaze. They were like vultures. Hungry for entertainment. Hungry for gossip that would eagerly retail as the highlight of their day. 'You'll never believe what we saw in town today!' They would whisper excitedly. 'That scoundrel Jackson was at it again! You'd think the horrid little street rat would know better by now!'

Jack ducked his head, his eyes focusing on a loose pebble before him.

He shouldn't care… he was use to this.

Yet deep down, a cold tormented rage stirred within him.

Who did they think they were? Who were they to play judge, jury and executioner? They branded him a thief, a useless, worthless riff raff. To them he was nothing but a common criminal, a burden on their perfect society. He was an eyesore. A nuisance. Pathetic.

They knew nothing about him.

"Five lashes, son," the guard spoke solemnly, the slightest trace of pity in his voice as he raised the whip into the air. "Perhaps this time you'll learn your lesson."

The only lesson Jack would take from this would be to be more wary of stealing anywhere near the seamstresses' shop. The old hag had eyes like a hawk, and squawked like one too.

Breathing in deeply, Jack slowly closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of the cracking whip, slashing through the air.

Just get it over with. Jack thought warily, his lip catching between his teeth.

A hush of fell over the crowd, all holding their breath in anticipation. No one dared make a sound. Even the birds had seemed to have ceased their chirping.

The sound of the whip broke the silence, crackling as it raced towards him. Jack braced himself, teeth clenched.

This is it. Jack felt the tears trimming his eyes threatening to spill. Don't you dare cry! Dont you dare give them that satisfaction!

Whack!

There was the sound of the leather smacking into flesh but... the leather slashing against his skin never came, nor did the sharp sting that would only worsen and grow in agony with every fresh flog.

But… why?

A wave of gasps and cries ushered through the shocked crowd.

Startled, Jack cautiously pried open his eyes.

From his line of vision all he could see was the bottom of the rich flowing fabric of a dark blue cape. His chocolate eyes traveled upwards, finding that someone was standing in front of him; a hooded figure with one arm held out to their side, shielding him from harm while the other was stretched out in front. It was that arm that had received the blow from the whip on his behalf, the long tassel coiling itself around their arm like a serpent, drawing blood.

"How dare you, stranger! You are interfering with business of The Royal Guards! If you think this will go unpunished then-"

Clear and sharp as ice, a commanding voice sliced through the air. "I can assure you that whatever punishment I receive, Sir, will be nothing compared to what a guard who struck one of The Princesses of Arendelle will receive."

With one swift movement, the figure pulled down her hood. A wave of horrified gasps and murmurs washed through the crowd, many going wide-eyed, covering their mouths in aghast. Some shook their heads in disbelief. Others adverted their eyes fearfully to the trembling guard.

Jack glanced up through wide eyes.

Princess of Arendelle? Impossible. It couldn't be.

Yet one scrutinizing glance over the jaw-slacked crowd and frozen guards only seemed to add merit to her declaration. His gaze turned up to the stranger who stood before him.

She stood proud and tall with a regal and elegant air. Her starlight kissed hair was tied back into an intricate bun at the back of her head, light blue ribbons of fine silks intertwining like vines through it. Her dark midnight cape draped over her shoulders and cascaded down her back, billowing lightly around her ankles in the breeze, teasingly feathering against Jack's skin. The sweet smell of lavender drifted from her.

Jack heard the guard drop his whip, falling to his knees, sputtering grovelling pleas for forgiveness. The other guards immediately stepped forward, anxious to make sure their Princes was not harmed. Elsa quickly turned her cold stare on them, stopping them dead in their tracks.

"Why were you about to strike this boy?" The Princess-for any doubt that she was a royal had now evaporated in Jack's mind-demanned to know in outrage.

"He-he is a thief, your highness!" Aagard explained, pointing a finger at Jack. He dared not look up at the Princess, shame smearing his face in a scarlet hue across his wrinkled cheeks and nose.

"He is a repeat offender, Milady. We were simply setting an example," another guard defended his colleague, stepping forward. "We must make it clear that Arendelle's laws will be obeyed and will not be broken without repercussions."

Elsa fell silent, pausing a moment before finally turning around, allowing Jack to see her.

His breath escaped him.

She was everything he imagined a Princess to look like. Beautiful, soft and graceful features. A tender, comforting smile gracing her light pink lips. Veiled by dark lashes, vibrant against her ghostly pale skin, tranquil blue eyes as blue as Blåveis petals that grew near his home softly meet his.

Jack swallowed, blinking rapidly before looking away, unable to hold her gaze.

She looked like an angel. A merciful angel who has just spared him a harsh whipping.

He winced, suddenly very conscious of his own poorly appearance. Ripped and torn brown trousers. Dirt and heavens only knows what else smeared across his naked skin. His hair was disheveled and windswept. Hardly a sight worthy of being before a princess. He wished he had taken his mothers advice and cleaned up a little before going out. She had said to him that she had a feeling something special would happen today and it wouldn't hurt him to put a little effort into his appearance. As usual he had ignored her.

Mother always knows best, he thought with a roll of his eyes.

Jack cringed. Now that the princesses' cool, assessing gaze was upon him, he didn't want to know what she thought of him. She probably regretted stepping in and would now join the crowd to watch him receive his punishment. Afterall, he was only a pathetic, petty criminal. Why would someone like her, care about him?

"Please look at me," Elsa asked, softly.

Jack shook his head, eyes focusing on the ground.

Elsa knelt down beside him, gently lifting his head with her hands to make him meet her eyes. Her touch was ice cold.

Jack felt uncomfortable being so close to the princess. He had only ever seen the princess once, back when he was seven years old and she had been six. At the time the royal family had been on an outing to show the kingdom their newborn daughter, Princess Anna.

Back then had been times when the royal family had still went on royal family outings to the villages to meet their people and join in on festivals. For whatever reason, the royals never did that anymore, or at least, the princesses never. So it was curious indeed to find Princess Elsa out and about the village, after so many years of being isolated within the castle.

Reluctantly, Jack opened his eyes. Intionally he had wanted to meet her eyes with defiance, to show no sign of weakness. He didn't know why she had stopped the guard from striking him. Wherever the pity had came from though, he wanted none of it.

She was probably just bored of her lavish life, had came out to explore and grew curious of all the ruckus that he had caused. Thats all he was to her. An idle curiosity. Something to pass the time with. He was a whim. A fleeting moment of entertainment.

Curious. Spoiled. Brat, he muttered to himself bitterly.

When he looked into her eyes, indeed he saw pity, but there was more than that. Concern?

The hatred boiling in him sizzled down a little, and he softened his gaze. His anger no longer clouding him, Jack couldn't help but blush with embarrassment.

"Is what he said true?" her voice was like a melody, soft and soothing.

"Y-Yes."

"What did you steal?"

"A-a loaf of bread," Jack stuttered, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounded.

"Why?"

"Does it matter why?" An old, hunched over man in the crowds scoffed, his ancient, amber, eclipse like eyes flashing dangerously. "He's a thief! The law is the law and he broke it! Punish him! Punish him!"

Elsa's eyes narrowed as the restless crowd joined in with the wrinkly elders chant. Now they were all clamouring for action to be taken. Their chant and jeers of 'Punish him! Punish him! Punish him!' echoing around the square. The Princess scowled, returning her attention to the poor boy before her, her features remaining calm.

"Please, tell me why you-"

"Why do you think!" Jack hissed, his anger returning.

Did she want him to say it? To admit that he was so poor that he had to resort to stealing. That he would happily pick up scraps from the grounds like some wild beast? He did what he had to do in order to survive! His pride was wounded enough as it was, he wouldn't indulge answering her stupid questions when the answer was - should be - so obvious.

Elsa was taken aback by the growl in his voice.

Jack winced as the crowds jeers grew louder, almost fully drowning out the Princesses words. Jack glared seethingly at the crowd. He just wanted to curl up into a ball and seep into the ground, never to be seen or heard of again. He was so mortified.

Just make it stop! Please-

"Enough!" Elsa shouted.

The crowd didn't listen, instead starting to clap and stomp their feet as their voices grew and they reached a steady rhythm, spurred on by the old, grey man who had first shouted out. Punish him! Punish him! Punish him!

Elsa looked around desperately.

A shiver ran down Jack's spin. It was suddenly feeling a lot colder, like the temperature had just dropped. Jack's eyes grew wide when his breath left him in a puff of condensation.

What the… but… its summer… how can it be getting so cold?

That was when he noticed it. Small, barely visible traces of ice spiraling out from under Elsa's shoes, barely hidden underneath her cape.

Ice? But… how can that be?

Jack looked up at Elsa. She was looking at him, a look in her eyes that could only be described as pure terror. He glanced down at the ice, then back up to her. It couldn't be...

"Are you… are you doing that?" he mouthed, scarcely believing he was asking something so preposterous.

"Punish him! Punish him! Pun-"

"I said," Elsa growled, turning away from Jack. "ENOUGH!"

A freak gust of incredibly strong and biting cold wind ruptured through the square. Doors and windows slammed shut, carts fell over spilling their goods, peoples hats and hoods blew off their heads as their hair lashed around them. Cries filled the air, then quickly descended into silence as the wind died down, disappearing as quickly as it had came.

Everyone glanced around, murmuring of the unusual occurrence and the mess it had left surrounding them. Food and products were now strewed across the square, washing lines had broke, clothes now lay mucky and dirty everywhere. One poor man by the fountain started cursing obscenities as he had even been slapped in the face with a pair of underwear!

Jack gasped, starring in a horrid fascination at the girl standing in front of him.

She had done that. The Princess...she… she had done that! She had conjured the wind! It had too have been her! It was as if the winds and cold had responded to her panic at being unable to control her people.

Thankfully the villagers hadn't seemed to join the dots. Jack saw Elsa let out a breath of relief, clutching her hands close to her chest. In that moment Jack saw the vulnerable, scared girl hiding inside the noble, proud Princess.

"Guards," Elsa spoke, raising her voice as best she could. It wavered a little, her nervousness flashing like a twinkle of starlight before she smouldered it. "I want this boy released. Now."

"But you're Majesty-"

"That is an order!" The Princess hissed, eyes flaring.

The crowd murmured their discontent, reluctantly conceding the Princess's demand. The weathered man who had first initiated their protests at the princesses intervention was now gone, so no one else dared speak out against the monarch. They seemed more distracted with wanting to fix everything that the wind had messed up, Jack's punishment now completely out of their minds.

"He is exonerated of any crime, as ordered by the eldest Princess of Arendelle. Is that understood?" Elsa challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-Yes your highness," The Guard who had struck her mumbled, bowing his head respectfully. "However, may I ask what your doing out of the palace. You are not suppose to be-"

"I will say nothing about this whole affair," Elsa cut the guard off, gesturing to her arm that had been struck and the whip on the ground. "And this incident will be forgotten so long as you do not mention to anyone else that you have seen me today. Is that understood?"

The three guards look at each other, nodding.

Arendelle guards were much like brothers, they looked out for each other and were loyal to the end. What Elsa had offered their fellow guard was a free pass. The penalty for striking a monarch was severe, regardless of the circumstances that had brought about the action. The guard would be lucky to escape with his life.

"Now, leave," Elsa ordered.

They wasted no time, helping their fellow guard to his feet before scampering away.

"Are you hurt?" Elsa asked.

Jack stood up, brushing off his trousers before reaching for his shirt and cape. "I don't think that will do you much good."

Elsa frowned. "Pardon?"

"Ordering them not to say that they saw you," Jack explained, scoffing as he shrugged himself into his shirt. "The entire village saw you! You really think something like this will be kept quiet?"

Elsa rubbed her arm nervously. "I… I suppose not."

She seemed dispassionate now, the consequences of her spontaneous actions bare for her to see now that she had a moment to think. Anxiously, her hands started to fidget with her gloves. Her parents would be furious with her. Beyond furious!

"I… I acted on impulse," Elsa conceded. "When I saw what they were about to do to you I-"

Elsa jumped when she realised Jack was no longer beside her. He was was walking off towards the gates that lead out of the village, completely ignoring her!

"W-Wait! Come back here!"

Jack glanced over his shoulders, turning around but now walking backwards. "Look, I appreciate you stepping in like that, but I don't need your pity. Now if you'll excuse me, your highness, I have somewhere else to be."

Elsa stared after him. He was just… he was just going to walk away? After she had just saved him from a cruel punishment? She couldn't believe it!

That ungrateful little-Ughh!

Elsa felt angry, her hands clutching onto her cape and bunching it up. Ice slipped from under her fingers, frosting over the fabric of her cape bundled in her hands.

She suppose she shouldn't have expected a conversation with him, but at the least he could have given her a proper thank you! She had received a painful lash to the arm for him! Not only that but now she was in tremendous trouble when her father and mother found out that she had run away, even if it was only temporarily. She had blew her cover for him! She would never get the chance to explore The village of Sjanse again!

Tears threatening to spill, Elsa turned on her heels in the oppsite direction and marched away.

"He-he is a thief, your highness!"

The Guards words echoed in her head, causing her to pause.

"Is what he said true?"

"Y-Yes."

"What did you steal?"

"A-a loaf of bread."

"Why?"

Why? Why steal a loaf of bread?

"Why do you think?"

He had sounded so irritated, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. Now thinking about it, she guessed it was. She winced, sorrow clouding her crystal orbs.

Elsa had always lived a life of luxury, never having to want for anything. If she wanted something, she was given it. There was always food on the table, and plenty more should she get hungry, again, all she had to do was ask and the maids would bring her it. She always took it for granted that she would always have everything she wanted and needed.

But others didn't have that.

It had been a silly thing to ask. Why would you steal a loaf of bread? After all stealing was wrong… but you would steal if you were starving.

She had just been so caught up in the rush of everything she hadn't been thinking straight.

Before she had intervened she had been weaving her way through the crowd, basking in the beauty of the small village and enjoying a small shopping spree. She could only spare a few hours here before having to return home or risk detection that she was gone, so had wanted to take pleasure in as much of the village as she could.

It was then she had seen all the commotion, crowds gathering around, whispering excitedly to one another. Curiosity had gotten the better of her and she had went to investigate.

When she saw what the guards, her father guards, were about to do to that boy, a boy who looked barely older than she, her stomach had churned. She acted instinctively. She had pushed her way through the crowd, ran across the remaining distance and whipped out her hand to receive the blow.

It was the most painful thing she had ever felt, the feeling of the heavy, solid whip slashing brutally across her arm, ripping through the sleeve her gown and tearing her flesh. There would be a nasty mark there now, and a worse bruise still to come.

When she realised what she had done, stepping in to save the boy, fear had almost consumed her. The spotlight had been on her, along with dozens upon dozens of judging eye, watching her like hawks. She wasn't use to attention, much less being the center of attention! Especially not when she was suppose to have remained hidden and unseen by all. No one was meant to know she was there, that she had even left her room much less her castle!

To her credit, she had managed to keep on a masquerade of calm for the most part. But even though on the outside she had looked calm, collected and proud, inside she had been squirming, desperately wanting to run and hide and pretend none of this had happened. She hadn't been thinking straight.

Maybe I should just go home. I'm in enough trouble as it is. He most likely thinks I'm some spoiled brat anyway.

With a sigh, she looked heavenward. Small flurries of snow glided to the ground around her.

"What did you steal?"

"A-a loaf of bread."

"Why?"

Why… because he was hungry and probably.. still… is. Elsa frowned, biting her lip at the thought. With one glance behind her she reached a decision, and raced off to the bakers.

"And there you go, my sweet deary. A basket of bread and a few pastries. Hope ye enjoy." The baker beamed as Elsa handed him some coins.

Elsa smiled, taking the basket.

"Excuse me, Sir," Elsa asked, timidly. "But that boy from earlier. The one who stole the loaf of bread from your stall outside, do you… do you know who he is?"

The baker continued kneading the dough behind the counter, sprinkling some flour over it.

"Uh, huh. That be Overland's son, Jackson," The baker explained, shaking his head. "Nuthin but trouble, that one."

"Trouble? He… he steals often?" Elsa inquired lightly.

The guard has said he was a repeat offender. How bad must his financial situation be to be forced into stealing so often that he would carve himself out a reputation as a thief?

"Every week. more or less."

Every week! He risked a severe lashing on a weekly basis! Elsa could hardly stand one blow of that horrendous whip! How many lashings had the thief received in his life time?

Steal or go hungry... which would you chose? Morals and consequences be damned, you'd do what you had to survive.

Elsa felt her heart go out to him.

"Do you umm… do you know where I could find him?"

The baker stopped his kneading and looked at her curiously, quirking an eyebrow. He lifted his flour covered rolling pin and pointed it at her scolding. "Now listen here, missy. You seem like a nice girl. Too nice to be tangling up with a scoundrel like of him. Stay clear from him. Thats my advice."

"Please, sir," Elsa pleaded, eyes shining. "Its... its important to me."

The baker blew a bang of grey hair from his face, muttering under his breath about being a softie and always falling for women's charms with a mere flutter of eye lashes. "Learn the hard way then. Ye may find him at lake in the forest. Just follow the path out the village and take the third left, alright. You'll find it along the path. I've ran into him a few times up there. He seems fond of that place."

"Thank you."

And so off The Princess went to find the thief.

(A/N) Nyaaa so what do you think? :3 I'm still a tad rusty tbh. xx Anyone notice the other character who made a brief, if somewhat disguised, cameo? :P xx

For any readers of my other jelsa stories, or other stories in general, I am working on them. Just seriously struggling finding inspiration and motivation to do them. I'll try and update them when I can and I'm sorry for how long its taken. xx

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed. xx