WINTER'S HEART

Jack hurried back up the mountain; he worried that the woman, apparently named 'Elsa', would reveal him to anyone. No streams of frost were left behind him; thank heaven, as he began to slow his steps, returning to his palace of ice. Even then, he couldn't stop thinking about Elsa, why would a woman be alone on a night as special as this? Especially when she looked so elegant… that wasn't the princess he'd stumbled upon, was it? Oh well, it didn't matter; she'd probably forget his face by dawn, probably even at that moment.

That was unfortunate for Jack; he had another curse aside from frigokinesis, he never forgot faces. He never forgot the faces of the horrified villagers that screamed out 'monster' when they saw his power, he never forgot the last glimpse of his family's heartbroken faces when they watched him sprint across the pond and away from home, he'd never forget the face of that beautiful young woman he'd seen.

But most of all… he'd never forget Sophie's face. His sister was white as paper thanks to him when he last saw her, trembling from the cold and sobbing hysterically. He tried to think of Sophie in present time. Jack couldn't believe it had already been three years since he last saw his family. He wondered if his mother still kept her hair short, or if Sophie's hair was still long. His father probably still had his thinning gray hair. At least he hoped. The years had gone by so quickly it seemed. If it hadn't been for his curse, there would be no ice castle on top of the northern mountains. The palace was centered on the hexagonal shape of a snowflake; Jack Frost truly lived up to his name. He walked up the staircase that leads to the double doors. With a wave of his staff, they opened by themselves and closed behind him. Jack never knew why he made it so exquisite if it were a home just for one, he'd modeled it after Arendelle, upon seeing the beautiful architecture of the castle down below.

It was when Pitch was helping Jack learn to control his powers and test his limits… there seemed to be none with his icy magic, as the castle stood high and proud. The bottom floor had the throne that he and Pitch created out of dark sand magic and ice and a frozen ice fountain. Jack ignored how they still sparkled so beautifully in the moonlight and walked up one of two curving staircases that joined together on a platform. Another curving staircase branched off the platform up to the small room Jack made for himself. It had a bed, supplied with sheets and a mattress Pitch had stolen for him, the base made completely of ice. Pitch had contributed much more than Jack gave him credit for, keeping Jack fed, and giving him a proper place to rest.

He was the only family he had now. They were both the only people who accepted each other. Jack couldn't help but feel twice as lonely in his dark room that night… He then did something he always did whenever he felt lonely. He began to create a gentle breeze of snowflakes fall around him. He twirled his staff, creating patterns of ice and snow until they formed the shape of a human face, three of them. Manipulating the frost to come alive with his powers, he created the faces of Sophie and his parents. They smiled, as if they'd missed him… They didn't care he had strange powers. Upon seeing them did Jack grow sadder; they weren't waiting for him to come home, but it was best.

He could never return to a place where he could hurt people. Jack watched as the faces distorted into the gentle winds and fell with the rest of the snowflakes. Jack looked up at the ceiling and continued to consciously make snow fall around him as he lied, uncovered on his bed and waited to fall asleep. Meanwhile, Pitch was in his caved sanctuary at the base of the mountain where he saw the dark trails of ash and sand across the walls slowly tearing and peeling off. His own worries were coming true, phobias and fears of people like him were decreasing.

"Damn it…" He pondered to himself, pacing back and forth, "No one believes in dark magic anymore." It was his only source of life, and it was draining, "I can't just reveal myself! They won't see me!" He yelled to himself, walking back and forth, driving himself mad, "There has to be someone to bring the fear of the unexplainable back, but who?!" The shadow had pointed out the painfully obvious, for reflecting off the full moon was Jack's ice palace. But the young boy—a young boy to him, he'd worked so hard to toughen him up and patch him back together. Jack Frost trusted him and had no fear of him… Pitch was growing more and more desperate by the hour, each waking moment growing closer to his last. Maybe he couldn't entice fear… but Jack could.

But all this time, Jack sought to isolate himself from hurting anyone; it was fear that kept him away. Jack's fear clearly wasn't enough; it had to grow stronger. If he could just get Jack to make one mistake, just one, and then isolate himself again, he'd have a chance of life again. And if the villagers came after Jack, Pitch could protect him. Jack Frost was powerful too; he knew how to defend himself fairly well thanks to his teachings. Nothing else went better together than cold and dark, right? Pitch had his doubts, how could he bring himself to betray the only companion he'd had?

But this was a life or death situation… And Pitch knew what he wanted.

Far down in Arendelle, the guests were leaving the castle, satisfied with the celebration and banquet. Erlend watched his subjects leave, bidding them goodbye until the next kingdom ceremony. Agnes still wouldn't say a word to him, and he hadn't seen Elsa since he'd called her a…

How could he have done that to his own daughter? What father had the nerve? From outside the castle, he looked up and thought he saw her face at her bedroom window. But he'd mistaken, her dark blue curtains were still drawn, like always. The memories of when he was close with his little girl were fading. He wished he'd had more time to spend with her when she was a child, to help prepare her to be the next ruler. Maybe then Elsa wouldn't be so hostile towards him. But Erlend knew he was to blame—there was no point in getting angry with her. His eighteen year old daughter was closed in her room, wiping her makeup off with a tissue. Her eyes were still wet from her tears, so getting the mascara off proved to be easier than she anticipated. She let down her long, wavy blonde hair and it hung loose just above her elbows. Elsa had been standing in front of the window, conflicted about opening the curtains to look out at her peers or not. She wondered for a while if she'd see that young man who was sneaking around the garden, but at the same time, Elsa didn't care.

He'd probably just call her a whiny princess—a girl with such a good life crying for 'no good reason.' There was a knock at her door, "Who is it?" She moaned.

"It's Gerda, I just wanted to say goodnight."

"Goodnight." Elsa replied, not in the mood to see anyone. She just wanted to forget all about that night, maybe she could hide in her room for a few days and it would all pass over. Gerda huffed and pushed the door open.

"I don't get a hug?" She knew Elsa too well—that she needed one. Elsa sniffled and turned around, trying to smile.

"Okay, Gerda." She opened her arms and let the short elderly woman embrace her.

"Oh, honey." She comforted the princess, "It's alright…" Elsa began to sob more, trying to suck it in and be a woman, "I'll have a stern word with your father."

"No, don't." She pushed her away, "It doesn't matter who tells him what, it's always the same. The King has his word and I go back to being the 'perfect Princess of Arendelle.'" She took off the tight dress, her undergarments covering her. Elsa began to switch into a baby blue nightgown, "Nothing changes."

Gerda grimaced, "But Elsa, if you don't tell him how you feel, he'll never know."

The blonde woman scoffed, "He knows. It's that he doesn't care, all that's important is how he looks in front of everyone."

"Now Elsa, how you act doesn't reflect off him, it reflects off you." Elsa was ready for bed, exhausted, but this was still fresh in her mind, picking at her conscience.

"Nobody even knows who I really am. They never see me walk around the towns or get to know me. They only know the Princess Elsa." She emphasized, "Not just… Elsa." Sometimes Elsa felt like only she knew the Princess Elsa; she'd never had a chance to discover who she really was… and heaven forbid she did. Her father made it feel illegal to have that sort of epiphany. Gerda knew her point, but she had nothing more to say. The gray-haired woman smiled.

"Well, what matters is that you know Elsa in the end." Her words would be keeping Elsa up all night, in the end? She'd be lucky if she even figured out her true passion in the end. When the woman bid her goodnight and closed the door behind her, Elsa sat awake on her bed, thinking heavily with a heavy heart. All night she'd be obsessing over the events of her eighteenth birthday. Nothing went right. Nothing for her ever went right. She lied sleepless until Elsa decided it was time for her to figure out what it was really like out of the castle gates, what the people of Arendelle would treat her like if they got to know the true Elsa and not their Princess. She knew they'd recognize her instantly, but it was worth a try—it would be sneaking out the gates that would be difficult. Elsa was growing far too exhausted to plan her actions and drifted to sleep, an idea in mind, a resolution of some sort.

Jack stepped out of his palace only to be blinded by the dawn that was creeping over the horizon. Facing his castle east wasn't the best idea, but it occasionally gave him a grand morning view every day, if he were awake early enough. The pale, tall young man looked down at the kingdom to see that no one was up and about yet, probably due to the late night festivities. His fantasy (hardly) came true the night before, and now he could look on with satisfaction—at least he pretended. With his staff in hand, Jack created one, single snowflake large enough to cover his view of the moon if it were out. He decided to experiment and he slowly brought his hands together to a close, then spread them apart, creating a bursted flurry of multiple snowflakes.

Jack Frost chuckled to himself as the little droplets of snow gently floated down to the surface; his powers could be so beautiful, it could cause great joy to anyone who might desire an eternal world of fluffy snow and frothing plumes. Smiling at his work, he felt something emerge behind him, "Playing with the snow, Jack?" He smirked and turned around.

"Hey, if you can lurk in the dark all day, I can play with snow." He delightedly told Pitch, who grinned.

"It's too bad no one else has gotten to enjoy it." The smile didn't leave his face; Jack winced, not understanding his comment.

"What?" Pitch approached him and turned Jack's body towards Arendelle, still lifeless in the morning sun.

"Think about it, Jack." He licked his lips, dry from the cold air, "Your powers provide great beauty." He alluded to the snowflakes he'd just created, as well as the extravagant castle the two had created, "All I can do is bring darkness." Jack was confused by his sudden praise, "It's a shame no one else gets to appreciate the beauty you bring, except for you and I."

"Wait a minute, Pitch, why are you-"

"Last night I got to thinking, why shouldn't Jack get to live freely with people? After all, come winter time, no one will know the difference."

Did he know he snuck away? That didn't matter, all he cared about was why Pitch was suddenly so eager, "But Pitch, you know what could happen if something goes wrong!" He held up his hands, "I touch something and it turns to ice."

"Everyone is capable of tripping, falling, or hurting themselves." Pitch reminded him, "All they have to do is be careful." He smiled, almost eerily—but that was Pitch's casual look. Jack looked at his bare hands, a blizzard howled through his body… Maybe Pitch really did want him to get his chance to be a member of society again. Like everyone else, he just had to approach everything with caution, stay safe. Jack held his staff, how would he explain it?

"Alright…" He looked down at Arendelle; a few people were beginning to enter the town square. This was his chance to feel human again, to fill that hole that had been growing for three years, "Pitch, will you watch my staff?" He handed it to his trusted companion, who grabbed it with relish.

"Absolutely." He'd successfully persuaded the seventeen year old man, who breathed in deeply.

"If something goes wrong though…" He hesitated, "I…"

"Jack…" Pitch patted his shoulder, "You can always start over." He looked at Pitch with his striking blue eyes… He was right; only this time, rejoining society, that was his starting over.

"Okay…" He took a few steps down the steep mountain—he had a long path ahead of him, but the farther he got down the mountain, the lighter his steps got as he grew more and more excited. All this time he was capable of being a member of society again. But Jack reminded himself the golden rule of his family look-don't-touch and the golden rule of everyone else, be careful.

This was it, he thought, this was finally it.

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