AUTHOR'S NOTE: I LIVE! Thanks for bearing with me, everybody—this one took a while to write. For those of you unofficially signed up for what has apparently become NopeNotTelling's Excuse-Of-The-Month Club (HOORAY), this time around, it was because I was had a miscarriage. I was only eight and a half weeks pregnant, so as far as miscarriages go it wasn't that bad, but it was still a really awful few days, and then weeks, in there (and NO, my sweet adorable teenagers who don't have context, a miscarriage is NOT a one-night thing). Obviously, IA kind of slid down on the priorities list for a while. For those of you who are still here and reading this, thank you, THANK YOU for your patience!
Also, even though there was no way I could post about it on the last chapter's note without giving away spoilers: yeah, I was writing Bunny's accent on the assumption that MOST (much?) of my audience would be reading it with a middle-American accent. Sorry if this wasn't the case! The last chapter took FOREVER to figure out because I had to spend over a month analyzing Hugh Jackman interviews trying to get Bunny's voice right… or, as right as I could? (Hashtag, ITRIED) Also, because I HAVE to point it out: the ROTG nightmares? Night… mares? As in, a mare being a female horse? (It took me years to actually catch the fact that IT'S A PUN; THE ROTG NIGHTMARES ARE A FLIPPIN' PUN…!)
CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo
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Also: NOW OFFERING, for those of you who are legitimately being stressed out by the fact that we are currently slogging through The Angsty Awful Middle part of IA: For anybody who wants it, I am now offering a free QUASI-SPOILER, which is that I am willing to tell you the DAY on which Jack and Elsa officially figure it out, start communicating, and become boyfriend/girlfriend (Yes! It WILL happen!), and my best APPROXIMATION for how many chapters are left until we GET to that day. (Sometimes I have to split chapters in half or combine them due to length issues, so I can't tell you more accurately than that.) You can contact me either through a PM on here, or through that iceallianceauthorperson at gmail email I set up. Thanks for reading, and have a fantabulous day!
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75: A BROMANCE FROM THE ASHES
Elsa had barely even begun to come back into consciousness before she registered that soft, beautiful snowflakes were falling all around her in the silence. It took her another moment to realize that—even though she was sleeping in a pile of snow, atop an icy bed—she wasn't in the Forest. In fact, she was once again back in her old room in the castle, except that she was sleeping in the entryway leading to her art gallery, cuddled up next to a wall of ice that was stretched across the bottom half of its doorframe.
And she was being watched.
Leaning over the ledge of the ice-wall, the Spirit of Winter was staring down at her, clearly standing on his own bed on the other side of the doorframe. His gaze was piercing, his startlingly blue eyes fixed with determination on her own.
For a few moments, they stared at each other in silence.
"Hi," Jack blurted.
Suddenly shy, Elsa shifted her legs against each other in the snow, pulling the blanket up a little tighter to her neck.
"Hi?" she whispered.
His face didn't relax.
In fact, nothing about Jack's current posture and expression was relaxed at all—or even happy. His shoulders were tense, his jaw was set, and—if Elsa were seeing things correctly—his hand that was resting atop the half-wall's ledge was clenched into a fist. In his opposite hand, she could see through the ice that the Guardian was wielding his shepherd's crook, his entire stance on edge like he was ready to strike.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
"Um… Jack?" Elsa quavered, "Is everything—"
"—How did you sleep?"
She stopped talking, the question catching her off-guard.
"Did you sleep well?" Jack demanded again, "You had good dreams?"
Her previously startled expression morphing into confusion, Elsa's eyebrows drew together in befuddlement. "My dreams were fine," she stammered, "I mean, they were—dreams?"
"Just dreams?"
She pushed herself up onto her elbow in the snow, giving her head a little nod. "I… think so?" she quavered.
Still baffled, the Fifth Spirit shifted to sit up completely, drawing her knees in close to her chest under the ice blanket. Jack looked like he was restraining from actually squirming in his place.
"No—um," he asked, then dropping his voice to a whisper. "No nightmares?"
"I don't even remember what I dreamed about," Elsa lied, "It was probably something pointless."
Looking down to hide her expression and pretending that she was smoothing back a piece of her hair, Elsa bit her lip. In truth, she knew exactly what she'd dreamed about. On the current theme of most of her recent dreams, it had involved a certain beautiful, magical Spirit of Winter. Not that she had ANY intention of telling him this.
It involved music, and snow, and an ice palace filled with sparkling lights. And they had been dancing. And it was SO romantic…
If Elsa's brain was trying to torture her, it was working.
"Look—um—"
Jack's voice trailed off, and Elsa looked up to him again just as he broke off eye contact. Reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck, the Youngest Guardian then cleared his throat.
"Okay, so I know that you don't want me to use—magic—on you," he tried again, still not meeting her gaze, "Without permission, and—I get that. I do. But what if you're—asleep?"
Elsa's eyes bulged. "Asleep? How would—"
"—NOT CREEPY! I'd never—!"
Jack Frost abruptly stopped talking and squeezed his eyes shut, like he was in pain.
A moment later, the Spirit of Winter gave his head a vigorous shake. Jack then sucked in his breath.
"Can-I-use-magic-on-you-if-there's-a-nightmare?" he blurted.
Queen Elsa blinked.
"Pardon?" she asked.
"I wouldn't come over the wall, or anything," Jack stammered desperately, "I promise. But I wouldn't need to, and if I see that you're having a nightmare, I'd still be able to destroy it."
Her eyes widened slightly at the word destroy, but she decided not to press him on it. Elsa nodded.
"That's fine," she said. "I would—really appreciate that. Actually."
His face relaxed. Wordlessly, Jack Frost nodded, his entire body untensing as the statement hung on the air. If this were really so important to him…
Well.
"I mean—if I'm having a nightmare," Elsa admitted with a breathy laugh, "I know that body language is a thing, but can you really tell if—"
"—I can tell."
Elsa snapped her mouth shut. From where he was still standing on his bed, looking down at her from over the ledge, the Guardian's eyes were steely, his expression icily confident in the statement. The Fifth Spirit nodded, looking down as a tense quiet fell over the room.
A few moments passed by in silence.
The snow on his bed crunching beneath him, Elsa could hear Jack shifting on his feet again as he tossed his staff to himself. He let out his breath, looking back towards her, but without actually meeting her gaze.
"Can I come over the wall now?" he muttered sheepishly.
"Oh! Yes. Of course."
Shoving off the snowflake blanket, Elsa sat up completely, shifting around in the snow and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. As she got to her feet and started to walk away from the ice wall and into her room, she was abruptly cut off as he dropped into her path, a gust of freezing wind sweeping past her and making her nightgown flap against her legs.
Before Elsa knew how to respond, Jack suddenly grasped her shoulders with both hands, looking up and down the length of her body. Her muscles went rigid, her mouth falling open as he then spun her around to check her from the back.
"Hey!" Elsa stammered, her face going pale, "What the—"
"—No nightmares? You're sure?"
Turning her body back around to the front—more gently this time—the Youngest Guardian's intense gaze met hers for a moment before he looked down again, giving her entire form another once-over. Elsa cringed, wincing under the weight of his unabashed scrutiny. Her stomach flipping in confusion, Elsa's eyes narrowed as she studied him. Jack's gaze wasn't playful or flirtatious, like it normally was, but fierce with concern. In fact, as he glanced up and down the length of her body, he didn't look like he was meaning to be inappropriate or suggestive at all.
He looked like he was checking for damage.
"Um—Jack?" Elsa shook. "Are you alright?"
Looking back up into her eyes—his own wide—Jack pressed his lips together, still holding her at arm's length. A moment later, he nodded.
"I'm just really glad you slept well," he choked.
Moving before Elsa had the chance to react, the Guardian of Fun then suddenly embraced her, throwing his arms around her body and squeezing her like she was everything he valued in his life.
.
.
.
When she had asked if they could kiss, on the previous night, the Snow Queen wasn't thinking that they would do so, quite so—passionately. She was honestly just hoping for a sweet, tender sort of kiss that would lead to sweet, tender dreams, like ALL of the dreams she'd been having for the previous week. In truth, she'd never had such consistently lovely dreams. But as soon as their lips had touched, the kiss (as EVERYTHING apparently did, when Elsa was left alone in a room with Jack Frost) had abruptly escalated. He had initially just wrapped his arm around her waist and slipped his fingers into her hair, but hardly a moment later, the Spirit of Winter was suddenly yanking her body against his, and she was clinging onto him in return. All Elsa could remember was the rush of her own desperation as she had grabbed the Guardian by the front of his hood, holding him fast with her hands fisting in the fabric and kissing him with all of her strength, like she was trying to convey everything she'd ever felt for him through their touch.
In short: It was far too much. Queen Elsa wasn't supposed to be running around kissing random men like this. She was a member of the royal family—and, for now, she was once again on the throne, once again holding the scepter. She was supposed to be seeing Prince Frederik. Now that Anna had married Kristoff (who she adored! Really!), Elsa was the only one left in the family to make a politically-savvy match. Fantasizing about having a passionate, icy romance with the Spirit of Winter wasn't fair to Frederik… nor to Kingsley. Nor to all the people of Arendelle.
Nor to Jack.
Awash with guilt and shame as they had pulled away from each other in that moment, each gasping for breath, Elsa had decided there and then that she HAD to reign herself in. She had to be good. She had to, HAD to, force herself to stop toeing the line—because, even though they hadn't technically "done" anything, her emotions regarding a certain white-haired Guardian of Fun still felt far too strong. Everything did.
To make matters worse, as this had been going through her mind, Elsa had suddenly felt Jack Frost's teeth brush over the tip of her nose, jolting her back into the moment. As she looked up, he let out a satisfied sigh.
"So… uh," he whispered, his eyebrow twitching. "You're sure you don't prefer arctic foxes, Snowflake?"
Elsa's mouth fell open.
As she'd struggled to gather her thoughts, Jack Frost had gently reached up and started stroking back her hair, his incredibly, snowflake-marked eyes hardly more than a few inches from her own. A fluttery shock of awareness shot through her body as the Guardian then moved his hands down onto her hips, but before Elsa could register how light her stomach felt (or how all the muscles in her legs had suddenly gone tense), Jack had glanced down to her dress for a long moment, his thumbs tracing little circles on the icy fabric of her skirt. Looking up into her gaze again with a knowing, mischievous little smile, he had then sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, pressing his lips together and closing his eyes as if he were savoring the taste of having her mouth on his. It was absolutely indecent.
And Elsa had loved it.
She wanted to cry.
Awkwardly pulling out of his grasp, the Fifth Spirit nodded. She'd blushed furiously, suddenly feeling like she wanted to jump off a cliff sans Nokk, just to escape the shame. Saying nothing, she'd then folded her arms tightly over her chest and paced for the door, walking in flustered silence all the way back.
When they'd finally reached her room, a once again confused and heartbroken-looking Jack had frantically offered that she could sleep in her normal bed again—you know, if she wasn't comfortable sleeping next to him anymore. If he'd done something. For which he was sorry. Even though he'd still really like it if she'd sleep next to him, but she didn't have to! If she didn't want to. But she could, though!
Basically, Jack Frost was wonderful. And at his continued panicked questioning, Elsa had repeatedly reassured him that she was fine with it, and that she felt perfectly safe with him, and that it was okay anyway, because there was a wall. This seemed to calm him down, but what she hadn't told him was that what she REALLY wanted to do was to disintegrate the wall and snuggle up next to him in the snow, to fall asleep in his freezing arms underneath a blanket of ice.
But she had responsibilities. And resisting the urge to jump into the bed of one brilliant and adorable Jack Frost, so it seemed, was one of them.
So on the following morning, with fresh determination, the Snow Queen pulled herself up, adopting her regal, queenly stance as she strode into the Private Dining Room. She was going to have a polite, normal breakfast with her family, during which time there would be polite, normal conversation, just like on any other morning.
Just like. Every. Other. Morning.
"Well! If it isn't everybody's favorite blizzard bunnies!" Kristoff's voice exclaimed as they entered the room. "Morning, sleepyheads!"
Jack laughed, and Elsa smiled without prompting as she saw her family. Kristoff and Anna, the king and queen, were sitting next to each other in their standardly non-formal, non-traditional arrangement, while Rapunzel and Eugene were sitting across from where Elsa and Jack would be seated. Sven and Olaf were nowhere to be seen, which was a bit surprising, but not wholly unusual. Sometimes Sven preferred to eat in the stables, and Olaf, not technically needing to eat at all, would often just start his snowy days out playing with the children on The Hill.
Even without everyone being present, Elsa had still come to feel that breakfast was about her favorite time of the day. It wasn't because of the food, nor the time, nor even having the chance to gather her thoughts before needing to Be The Queen again. It was because it seemed to be the only fraction of her schedule that couldn't be hijacked by royal responsibilities. And now that she was back in the castle with the Council simultaneously trying to run and ruin her life, it seemed to be the only guaranteed time that the Snow Queen was allowed to spend with her family.
Seeing that the table was still almost completely empty, except for the drinks and bare place settings, Elsa paused. "Um—"
"—There was a bit of an accident in the kitchen," Queen Anna explained.
Elsa's eyes widened. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed, "Are they alright? Do they need help?"
"Oh, they've got it under control. I already asked. But, breakfast will be about fifteen minutes late," the pregnant queen shrugged. "We have berries and drinks, though."
"That's absolutely fine."
Elsa looked to Jack, suddenly concerned. But he just shrugged.
"It's still better food than I've ever had before," he chuckled. Swinging his staff behind his back, he looked to her. "And better company."
Her heart swelling, Queen Elsa heard a breathy half-giggle escape her lips. Oh, goodness, Jack was charming. And adorable. She really wanted to take his hand again—actually, she wanted to embrace him and—
BEHAVE, she scolded herself.
She closed her eyes for a long moment, and then opened them again. The Fifth Spirit pulled in her breath, forcing the feelings back down.
"As long as we get on the road in about an hour or so, it should be fine," she stated emotionlessly, wrenching her gaze away from the Spirit of Winter's incredible eyes to look to the rest of the group. "And, Jack and I were already a little late, anyhow. We had to melt Jack's bed to get my room back to normal."
"Hold on," Eugene realized. "You guys are sharing rooms?"
Elsa's breath caught in her throat. It hadn't occurred to her that that would be improper, before. Or even strange.
Was it strange?
Huffing a laugh, Jack nodded. "Yeah," he confirmed. "Pretty much."
Eugene raised his eyebrows. "And, you're… not boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"Nope."
Elsa winced.
After a long and uncomfortable moment, Jack cleared his throat. "Apparently, we are… entirely uncommitted, right now," he sighed, an edge of frustration in his voice.
Elsa pressed her lips together and looked to her feet, struggling to conceal her disappointment. She knew that Jack wasn't interested in anything long-term, but—hearing him confirm it out loud, in front of her family, felt like a fresh stab.
As they walked over to the table to join the others, Jack Frost reached for Elsa's chair, pulling it out and looking to her as she followed. Clasping her hands together tightly in front of her skirt, the Snow Queen said nothing. Thanking him, she sat down, avoiding eye contact as Jack pulled out his own chair to do the same.
"The Snow Queen here," Jack started again with tension in his voice, "Has to obsessively look into every single possibility, before she can make a choice. So, no commitments yet, from her. You see?"
His eyebrows lifting, Eugene scoffed. He gestured to them in confusion. "So… what, then?" he pressed, "Are you guys just sleeping together, or something?"
"EUGENE!" Rapunzel gasped.
"NO!" Elsa blurted, "There's—we haven't DONE anything! We wouldn't—I'm not—!"
She abruptly cut herself off, glancing to Jack, and then back towards her family. Her cheeks burning, she snapped her mouth shut. They'd kissed, but—that was IT. She wasn't about to fling her self-control out the window, just for the chance to become her childhood hero's casual fling. Because, she WASN'T his fling. Or his TOY. And, Jack would never expect anything like that of her. She wasn't—she wouldn't—!
We haven't DONE anything!
A few snowflakes began to materialize over her head. Elsa looked down to her plate, hardly even seeing it.
We HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING!
Princess Rapunzel was blushing furiously as well, leaning in close to her husband. "You can't say things like that!" she choked.
"I was just asking!" Eugene protested, "And don't tell me that you don't want to know, too! I mean, what even IS this? Some kind of winter-themed 'friends-with-benefits' situation!?"
Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter, beating Elsa to the chance to deny it. The Guardian of Fun shook his head.
"I can PROMISE you," he drawled bitterly, looking first to Eugene and then to Kristoff. "It is—nothing—like that."
Struggling to breathe normally, Elsa anxiously twisted her fingers together in her lap. She wasn't—that kind of girl. And she KNEW this. EVERYONE knew this! Just because he was Jack Frost—!
Just because she'd been hero-worshipping this boy from the moment that she'd first heard his name, it DIDN'T mean that she was about to—
"You've GOT to admit, though," Jack started again suddenly, jerking her out of her downward spiral of thoughts. "That would kind of make sense—now, WOULDN'T IT."
He placed his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his fist while turning and giving her a pointed, piercing look. Under his intense gaze—and that of her family's—Elsa shrank.
She gulped.
"Jack and I are not sleeping together," she choked.
And she stared down into her lap.
"Well… just sleeping," Jack started quietly, pulling his lips to the side as his gaze softened, "We kind of are, though."
"But NOT like—heh," Elsa panicked, spinning around to him, "Not like that!"
"Oh—uh, no." Jack looked back to the rest of the group, his gaze primarily focused on King Kristoff once again. "I just meant that we sleep in the same room."
Elsa looked down to her hands. "Technically, we're staying in different rooms," she whispered.
"But we leave the door open."
"That's—true. And we make our beds next to each other."
"Together! Actually."
"But not TOGETHER, together," Elsa corrected, "But we put an ice wall between them."
"Well, a half-wall."
"Um, a half-wall. And we don't cross it."
"We cross it sometimes."
"I suppose we lean over it."
"To make out."
"We've—kissed. A few times."
"A lot of times."
"But only right before bed."
"Well, and in the morning."
"So, I suppose that we're technically sleeping together—"
"But not SLEEPING together."
"There's a wall."
As a stunned, disbelieving silence fell over the table, Jack Frost and Elsa simultaneously looked up to the rest of the group.
CLANK!
Queen Anna's fork dropped to her plate, making everyone startle. Elsa jumped to face her.
"What is even going on between you two?" Anna breathed.
Looking away from her sister, Elsa realized with dismay that everyone at the table was staring at them in horrified awe, their eyes wide as saucers, and filled with just as much comprehension.
Except for Eugene. Eugene looked positively giddy.
Without breaking the silence, Eugene slowly placed his elbows onto the tabletop, then interlacing his fingers and setting his chin on top of them. He beamed, blinking at the two winter spirits in disbelief.
"Now, this is just FACINATING," he breathed. "It's like… it's like watching a carriage collision… in slow motion."
The blush of mortification rising to her face again, Elsa cringed, the feeling of the intense, tight quiet ringing in her ears. They couldn't—she and Jack hadn't—surely, her own FAMILY didn't think—!
"If you can just imagine," Eugene whispered, turning to Rapunzel while excitedly motioning with his hands, "Two market carts, just—crashing into each other—and then falling off a cliff—"
"—We haven't done anything!" Elsa burst out, unable to stand it anymore, "I would never—! Jack and I haven't been—!"
She cut herself off, giving her head a frantic shake. As Jack turned to face her, raising his eyebrows, she painfully pulled in her breath, avoiding everyone's gaze.
"Intimate," Elsa choked weakly. "We haven't been intimate. At all. I mean, we've been emotionally intimate, but—nothing—nothing inappropriate."
Her hands trembling, she reached up and smoothed back a strand of her hair, her eyes darting between Anna's and Rapunzel's and Kristoff's and Eugene's. Next to her, the Spirit of Winter shifted in his seat.
"Emotionally intimate," Jack scoffed. "Yep. Allll emotions. No—actions. Just words."
His look of concern hardening into frustration once again, he then picked up his drink, raising it to his lips. He paused.
"No progress… no clarity," he gritted through his teeth, shooting a bitter grin at Eugene from over the top of his glass, "No. Action. What. So. Ever."
Eugene snorted, scooping up a forkful of berries as Jack took a gulp. "So… you're living your dream right now," he laughed.
"Yeah! Exactly. This is exactly how things should work. Everything is great."
Clunk. Jack slammed his glass back down onto the table. He huffed again.
"It's. Great," he added, throwing a frustrated glare at Elsa.
Elsa's stomach twisted. Not knowing what else to do, she stared down into her lap, twisting her fingers together and accidentally making a few snowflakes burst out of her skin to float onto her skirt.
From beside her, she could see Jack shift uncomfortably in his chair. His muscles relaxing slightly as he slumped into it, he then exhaled a sigh of defeat as the silence fell once again.
The temperature dropping by a few degrees, sparkling snowflakes began to softly fall around the two quiet winter spirits, glistening as they floated down onto the table to fall onto their plates and stick to the wood. After a few tense and uncomfortable moments, Elsa heard her cousin shift in her seat.
"Are you guys okay?" Rapunzel breathed.
Neither Jack Frost nor Elsa responded.
"Elsa?" Princess Rapunzel asked again, directing the question, "How are you doing? Is everything alright?"
The Fifth Spirit squirmed.
"I'm fine," she whispered.
"Are you sure?" Queen Anna pressed, making Elsa look up to her. "I mean—we left you two alone yesterday, but—"
"—NOTHING HAPPENED! I'd NEVER—"
"—Not what I meant!" Anna corrected, holding up her hand, "But—Elsa, you seem—very stressed out. Do you need to take a break? Maybe some time back in the Forest?"
Eugene coughed into his fist. "A therapist…"
Kristoff abruptly choked on his drink, slamming his glass onto the table. As Rapunzel threw a sharp glare her husband, and the Commoner King then coughed twice into his own fist, like he was restraining from agreement.
"No, Anna, it's—I'm fine," Elsa blurted, nodding in the least-convincing manner possible, "This is fine. I'm not letting you go alone."
"She wouldn't be alone," Rapunzel offered. "I was planning on going, too. I mean…" Her voice trailed off for a moment. "If that's still okay?"
"Of course it's okay. I'm honored that you're willing to come with us," Elsa insisted, "And we need our—family—sisterhood—time."
She fell silent, chewing on her lip. As the tense quiet fell over the table once again, Rapunzel pulled in her breath.
"And—Jack?" she pressed quietly. "How about you?"
Jack's body tensed, his mouth fell open a half an inch. Looking up to her in surprise—not expecting to suddenly be the center of attention in the conversation—he then quickly snapped it shut, his cheeks and ears flushing pink.
"Fine," Jack choked.
He picked up his drink again, taking a gulp.
Another tight silence fell as Rapunzel and Anna exchanged glances, looking to each other in worry. Gripping her fork, Elsa awkwardly forced herself to eat a few berries, hardly even tasting them as she chewed and swallowed.
Queen Anna looked to Elsa for a moment, her eyes narrowing a bit as she tried to look for a possible reaction. After a moment, she then turned her attention back to Jack.
"Are you sure?" she asked him.
The Spirit of Winter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well—I'm not gonna pretend that I understand how you princess types approach this whole thing," Jack bristled, an edge of uncertainty on his voice, "Nothing ever seems to MEAN anything. Doesn't matter how much talking, doesn't matter how much time, doesn't matter how perfect—!"
He cut himself off again with a blush. His eyes glistening, Jack gave his head a shake, now gripping his glass like a vice. As a fine layer of ice started to fracture out from underneath his skin, spreading over it and catching the light as the edges of his drink started to freeze, a few snowflakes materializing above him.
Anna and Rapunzel looked to each other, their eyes wide. Sitting up slightly taller in her seat, Queen Anna glanced between Elsa and Jack. Pressing her hands together, she then pulled in her breath, her wide-eyed gaze shifting into an intense stare at the Guardian.
"Okay! So—JACK—you're frustrated," she enunciated carefully, "Because—to you—with all the time you've spent together—that would imply—?"
She separated her hands and rolled her right one through the air, indicating that he would finish the thought. His face red, the Spirit of Winter looked away from her, pressing his lips together in discomfort.
King Kristoff leaned towards Anna, shaking his head. "Anna—"
"Well," Jack huffed. "Doesn't it?"
Elsa's breath caught.
Shifting in his chair, Jack took an enormous swig of his drink, then putting it back down. Was Anna—was Anna siding with Jack? Did Anna think that she owed the boy something, just because he'd been nice to her for a week!? Elsa wasn't bending on this. She wasn't—she wouldn't—!
She gritted her teeth, anxiously fighting to conceal the storm of panic building up inside of her.
I don't OWE him anything! Elsa thought frantically, Just because he's spent some time with me, it DOESN'T mean I'm obligated to let him do whatever he wants!
By this point, everyone except Jack—who had now snatched up his fork, starting to anxiously twiddle it between his fingers—had moved their gazes onto her. Snow falling softly around her chair and onto the table, the Fifth Spirit blushed furiously, staring into her lap.
"What do I know, though?" Jack scoffed, shattering the silence. "I'm not royalty."
He dropped the fork onto his plate with a clatter, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. From where he was seated down the table, Kristoff looked at him in confusion.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
Jack huffed again, a bitter grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. "Well—for contrast, Elsa's been on—what? Two dates with Freddie?" he enunciated, his eyes narrowing as his lip curled around the name. "But—he's a PRINCE! So—they're probably going to be pregnant by the end of the month."
WHAM.
Elsa slammed her hand down onto the table, making him startle. Jack whipped around to face her.
She sucked in her breath.
"At—the table," Elsa whimpered.
Jack's eyes widened with confusion.
"Huh?" he asked.
"Could we stop? Could everybody just—stop discussing who I should be sleeping with? For TWO SECONDS?" Elsa whispered intensely, her voice breaking with desperation as she grew louder, "WHY can't a woman just be single?! Does everybody on Earth have to think my relationship status some kind of big DEAL!?"
Jack's face went pale. "Elsa, I wasn't meaning tha—"
"—Has it ever OCCURRED to anyone that I've had a little more on my PLATE than most people?" she stammered, "A few more things to worry about? Things that would make it kind of DIFFICULT to have a normal courtship, with anyone, ever? Especially NOW that I keep having to be SET UP all the time, breakfast is pretty much the ONLY TIME OF THE DAY that I'm allowed to spend any time with my family!" she sobbed, growing more and more passionate as a brisk wind started to pick up, swirling around them in the room, "So, SO help me, if we're going to all insist on wasting our precious days together by endlessly having this HUMILIATING DISCUSSION, I would request that we have the self-restraint and basic decency to not do so AT THE TABLE!"
And the wind abruptly ceased.
The snowflakes that had frozen in the air silently began to move again, floating down onto the table and the carpet around where Elsa was sitting, her chest rising up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. From beside her, the Spirit of Winter turned slightly in his seat.
"Wait…" Jack realized. "Elsa, are you saying… that what's making you upset right now… is the fact that we're talking about this… at a table?"
She swallowed.
Feeling her heart stop beating in her chest under the intensity of everyone's collective gaze, the Fifth Spirit froze, her head spinning with all the things that she actually wanted to say.
I'm upset because my family thinks I've become an infatuated weakling for you, and because they're only sort of wrong.
I'm upset because I'm the only one left to make a political marriage for this family, and that I'm the only MEMBER of this family who seems to be at all aware of that.
And, MOST OF ALL, Mister GUARDIAN—I'm upset about the fact that you have the ability to somehow make me feel so special, and so COMPLETELY WORTHLESS, ALL AT THE SAME TIME.
"Of EVERYTHING going on here—of—this," Jack Frost repeated, gesturing between them with disbelief, "What strikes YOU as being offensive about this situation, is the fact that we are discussing it—while sitting—at a table!?"
Blushing furiously, the Snow Queen clenched her hands into fists. Stretching out her fingers—and fighting back the heartbroken, frustrated stinging in her eyes—she then hesitantly looked up into his.
"Is NOTHING sacred?" Elsa choked.
Jack's eyes widened.
Sitting back, reeling away from her, he exhaled sharply. Letting out a breathy laugh of disbelief, he then looked to everyone else at the table before glancing back to her.
"Well! I am so SORRY, your majestic proper-ness!" Jack balked in frustration, "What topics would you deem appropriate for us to discuss, then? At this very, extremely, SO special TABLE?"
Paralyzed with shock at the sudden anger in his tone, Elsa opened her mouth to speak, then snapping it shut again. The words catching in her throat, she blushed even harder.
From across the table, Eugene leaned forward an inch in his seat.
"Might I suggest… a rousting discussion of croquet?" he stage-whispered.
Rapunzel looked to him with worry. "Eugene—"
Jack snapped his head up. "Yes! But not TOO rousting," he scoffed, throwing another glare at Elsa, "I'm afraid that I forgot my strand of pearls to clutch in horror."
"That's true," Eugene conceded, "One might faint. Smelling salts?"
"Haven't any."
"Tragic!"
And they fell silent, staring each other down from across the table.
Their eyebrows lifting, Jack Frost and Eugene Fitzherbert then simultaneously leaned back in their chairs, sizing each other up like a pair of chess players each carefully contemplating their next move. Seeing the competitive spark lighting up in Jack's eyes—and the mischievous glee in Eugene's—Queen Elsa then anxiously glanced to her cousin, realizing with dismay that Rapunzel's eyes were bulging as well, the visible discomfort in them confirming that the two women were thinking the same thing at the same time:
Oh, no.
"We could start a book group," Jack offered suddenly, shattering the silence as he fired the first comment at his opponent, "But we'll ONLY read hymnals. Lots of words, but nothing that everybody doesn't already know. THAT should keep things from getting out of hand—at a table!"
Eugene drew himself up again as well. "Or," he offered, accepting the challenge with a twinkle in his eye, "Skip all other subjects entirely. We should only discuss the table itself."
Jack snorted. "Great idea. I'm already bored."
"Board, you say?"
"Ahhhh—"
"Ah-hah!"
Eugene waggled his finger in the air, beaming victoriously. He leaned back in his seat, and Jack schooled his expression, clearly restraining from a grin.
"A perfect topic, then," the Guardian conceded, his chin lifting an inch, "Do you know anything about woodworking?"
"Depends on the context," Eugene chuckled, "And that kind of joke is—"
"—NOT for Elsa."
"I see."
"But still amazing."
Kristoff snorted, clapping his hand over his mouth. As everyone turned to him, he then picked up his drink.
"You could talk about foot size," he offered.
Queen Anna whacked him.
A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face, and Jack—smiling in spite of himself—turned back to Eugene. "For those of us who don't want to be murdered by Elsa today, though," he chuckled, "I don't actually know anything about—ah, carpentry."
"Me neither."
"Are you proposing we make something up?"
"I usually do!"
"That tracks."
"OH!"
"But, it could still be too exciting," Jack countered. "For the table. We could talk about paint."
Rapunzel's eyes lit up. "You mean, like painting?" she asked hopefully.
"No. I mean, like paint." Jack moved his gaze back to Eugene's. "Like watching it dry."
"Scandalous! Is that as reckless as that startling new fashion of watching grass grow?"
"True, true. Paint dries too quickly, to be proper."
"Yes, indeed."
"Too much action."
"Very offensive."
"Quite."
"But, what if we started in winter?"
"Start in winter?" Eugene asked, "What do you mean?"
"Exactly that!" Jack stood up, knocking back his chair in the process. "We'll move everybody outside, wait for the snow to melt, and then watch the grass grow! It will take MONTHS! And NOTHING INTERESTING WILL EVER HAPPEN! And if we just don't say anything between now and summer, then no one's precious table will be damaged in the process!"
"Stay until the summer?"
"Why not!" Jack balked, "I hear that things are LOVELY around here, when everybody sits in a castle and pretends that ice powers don't exist!"
As Eugene shoved back his chair to get onto his feet, Jack was already snatching up his staff, flipping over the table to him and sweeping into a deep, sarcastic curtsy. Beaming and holding out imaginary skirts, Eugene then did the same, offering the Spirit of Winter his hand.
"And, what shall we do in that time?" Eugene squeaked eagerly, suddenly speaking in a shrill falsetto, "I'm afraid that I left my cross-stitching at home! Perhaps we should decorate the castle with ribbons? Or bake a few thousand crumpets, to pass the time?"
"OH, I daresay we shan't do anything!" Jack falsetto-giggled in response, his voice cracking as delicately placed his two longest fingers onto Eugene's outstretched hand, "We'll just talk! Endlessly! Because no matter how amazing, or PERFECT, anything could be, NOTHING SHOULD ACTUALLY MOVE FORWARD FOR ANY REASON EVER!"
"So, we shall WAIT until summertime, then?"
"Until the ice is gone!"
"When we shall make flower crowns in the meadow—"
"—And embroider a lovely set of matching doilies!"
"How completely delightful!"
"Indeed!"
Sarcastically giggling together in the manic falsetto, Jack Frost and Eugene then linked arms, skipping all the way around the table and to the door of the room. Eugene grabbed the handle, flinging it open, and the two then went skipping out again, their shrieking giggles fading as they disappeared into the hallway beyond.
The door closed behind them.
Ch-CHUNK.
The remainder of the group sat for a moment in stunned silence. Rapunzel sucked in her breath.
"I, Princess Rapunzel of Corona, wish to take this opportunity to issue a formal apology on behalf of the Kingdom of Corona to Queen Elsa of Arendelle for—"
"—Accepted!" blurted Anna and Elsa in unison.
Kristoff was too busy laughing.