Chapter Text

Act III: i

Written by @therentyoupay, Beta’d by @callimara

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was him. 

“Who are you?!” Elsa demanded, hands poised to strike. 

“You’re—you’re alive!” Jack stumbled back in shock. "That’s… different. But, you—you can see me?”

“Who—how did you get here?!” She stepped back, overwhelmed when he leaned closer, nearly nose to nose, and raised her arms to ward him off. “I—”

The man’s expression shuttered—the wide-eyed relief and recognition from just a moment before was gone. He visibly shook the shock from his face, his scar over his right eye twisting and crinkling as his brows furrowed, radiating anger and urgency.

“Look, we don’t have a lot of time—we’ll figure that out later.” His eyes darkened with some unknown fury, and Elsa clenched her fists as she struggled to steady her breathing. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done!”

“Who are you?” Elsa demanded, feeling her heels press into the ice beneath her, the glacial air fill her lungs. 

This tall man in strange clothing—with a shepherd's hook, with bare feet—was towering over her, eyes cold. Slowly, he turned his head, settling his gaze on a black, empty sinkhole beside them in the glacier’s deepest floor, a yawning black abyss into nothing. It hadn’t been there when Elsa had lowered itself into the depths of the glacier—at least, she didn’t think so. Near the sinkhole was a strange mass of broken blocks of ice, webbed with tiny black veins amidst the cracks. The sight of it made Elsa shudder.

“My name is Jack,” said the man in a tight voice, glaring at the yawning chasm in the floor. “For eleven thousand years, I Guarded this place, to keep the darkest, most dangerous creature inside this prison that I built for him, to keep him from doing any more harm.” Cold blue eyes pinned Elsa in place. He whispered, “And you just released him.”

Impossibly, chills broke out along Elsa’s skin.

“Who? How? For eleven thousand years—” Elsa swallowed down the familiar-and-forgotten sharpness of panic . “Look—I’m sorry for whatever it is you think that I’ve—that I’ve released, but the only thing I care about, right now, is finding my sister and—”

Jack’s gaze snapped back to hers, his staff swinging in a wide arc as he shifted into an offensive stance; heart pounding in her chest, she prepared herself for an attack, until, “Anna’s already taken care of the dam. We’ve got bigger problems now.”

Elsa blinked, startled into a fresh wave of renewed panic. “Where is she? How do you know—?”

“I know who you are, Elsa. I don’t know why you can suddenly see me—Manny sure has a hell of a sense of humor these days with his problem-solving tactics—but it’ll make things easier. You and I are gonna go out there and fix this, before Pitch can destroy anything else.”

“Pitch? ”

Jack’s jaw tightened. “He’s going after her. He’s going after all of them. And you’re gonna help me stop him.”

The ice was threatening to take hold of her—she could feel it creeping, its tiny branches crawling from her heart—but with the next inhale, she pushed it back, and forced it down. Jack—this stranger, this spirit? —watched on, eyes widening, as Elsa released her fear and anger in the next exhale, freeing herself from the claws of her powers, and took control once more. Chin lifted, shoulders back, Elsa slipped into herself; the bearing of a Queen, and the soul of the Spirit who was created to hold the world together.

Elsa stared at the man, and tightened her fist behind her back. 

“Well,” she glared, as the ice beneath her feet began to thrum… and crack. “You’re not the first strange creature to deliver a cryptic warning… and I’ve learned not to trust them. Sorry.”

Jack’s readied position did little to prepare him for the giant crevasse that cracked into the floor of Ahtohallan’s heart, creating another sinkhole beneath his feet. The sudden force caught him off guard, and he slid beneath the ice in the space of a single breath—by the time he tried to launch himself from the sinkhole the ice had fused back together, trapping him beneath the floors. 

A startled shout escaped him, but Elsa did not dare listen—with a burst of power at her feet, a pillar erupted from the icy floor beneath, and she launched herself higher, running up the stairs to the main cavern. Her lungs screamed in protest, and her legs refused to carry her faster, and her head pounded with the energy she had exhausted—you’re still wounded, she thought, slamming her shoulder into the edge of a wall in her haste to cut the corner. No—you’re fine, you’re fine. You just need time to recover from—from whatever that was!

The Nøkk was waiting for her when she arrived, panting and breathless, at the shoreline, but he was wailing his distress and urgency. 

“To Anna!” she cried, mounting the Nøkk, and urging him over the waves. “Hurry!”

Elsa allowed herself only one look back—not because of him, and the story he told—but because, at last, despite everything she had ever believed—she had found Home. And now, she was leaving it. 

“I’ll be back,” she promised, and glared against the wind, training her eyes forward.

Elsa urged her steed forward, the Nøkk's hooves barely touching the sea’s surface as they galloped with the speed of a tempest. The Nøkk shimmered with an ethereal blue light, its mane flowing like liquid sapphire. She could feel the force of the wind against her skin, but it was nothing compared to the icy dread that clutched her heart; whoever that man had been—that spirit, or jailer—he would fare on his own, once he escaped from the cage she’d sunk him into. She didn’t dare hope that he wouldn’t follow her, no doubt with vengeance fresh on his mind, but Elsa would deal with him later. Arendelle needed her now.

She didn’t know how—she was still not quite right since climbing into Ahtohallan’s depths, since whatever… happened down there—but Elsa knew that the moment she awoke was the exact moment, precisely, when Anna fulfilled her destiny, and answered Elsa’s desperate warning by freeing the Northuldra from the spell cast by the cruelty and greed of their grandfather.

High up in the mountains, the dam broke, unleashing a monstrous wave that roared down the canyons, threatening to engulf her beloved kingdom. As Elsa and the Nøkk broke into the fjord, she could hear it.

Desperation and determination drove her past exhaustion, past panic and terror, past the blood rushing through her ears or the horrible pounding that was hammering in her head. Elsa gasped as she pressed forward, filling up her aching lungs with ragged breath, realizing the speed with which the tidal wave was closing in. Faster! she begged. It’s too close!

The wave was almost upon them. The Nøkk swerved around just before reaching the edge of Arendelle’s castle, a few mere paces from the protecting wall, and sensed her intentions before she even fully understood them herself; he reared up on his hind legs with the force of Elsa’s summons—a great wave of energy pulsed outward as she raised her hands outward, calling her magic with a desperate, broken, Please!

Hooves thundered onto the waves below them with another pulse of energy, their bodies falling hard onto the surface, but Elsa gritted her teeth and bore through it, holding her arms out to conjure the wall—the only chance that Arendelle had for survival against the onslaught. 

In a blinding light, the water before them rose up before them, frozen in thick, monstrous, brilliantly bright fractals, reaching toward the sky and only just barely catching the first rolls of thunderous waves.

But the ice was growing too slowly—Elsa cried out as the tidal wave rammed into the shaky edges of the foundation, and the fury of the sea toppled over and around Elsa’s ice wall, catching rocks and windows around her as it flooded into the castle behind her, spilling onto shore. With a guttural roar, Elsa pushed her shield back against the wave. She spat away the salt and the pain as the sea sprayed into Elsa’s hair and face, but the wall, her ice, refused to grow, and the vastness of the wave was simply too much. 

Elsa’s entire frame shook with the weight placed against her, with the mass of energy lodged somewhere deep inside that she was begging to to answer her, but the wave was relentless—beneath her, the Nøkk let out a desperate wail. Elsa heeded the warning too late. 

She heard the cracks before she saw them; the eerie, otherworldly sound that only ice could make, a haunting melody of eerie twangs of bending ice and sharp cracks reverberating through physical tons of ice. 

Her final push was fruitless—the tension within the ice built to an unbearable crescendo, and the fractures in the frozen barrier thickened and multiplied, weakening it beyond repair. The wave smashed against it with unrelenting force, and the weakened ice wall shattered into countless shards, dissolving into the sea that subsumed them. 

The violent collision sent a shockwave through Elsa’s body, throwing her from the Nøkk’s back and pressing them harshly again the the rockface. Her head thudded against the stone wall, and the breath was knocked from her lungs. For a few moments, all she could hear was the thunder of water rushing to overtake her, but when she blinked her clouded gaze open, she saw that the Nøkk stood strong and tall before her, wrapping her safely in a tight bubble against the torrent that now surrounded them, rushing past and slamming slabs of rock from the mortar that binded them. 

“No!” Elsa begged through blurry vision. Her whole body ached , and she scrambled from the ground to her knees. She tried to stand, but the thunder in her ears, the shaky weakness in her limbs was too much. Elsa looked up through the protective cage the Nøkk had created for her: stones and masonry, centuries-old, crumbled under the relentless assault, swept away like driftwood; the great wall was nearly gone.

In its absence, Elsa watched through the Nøkk’s window, disbelieving as windows shattered, and the courtyard was reduced to a chaotic jumble of debris. Doors were torn from their hinges and flung into the maelstrom. Arendelle’s flag—flying into the abyss.

After an eternity, the wave receded; it dragged with it the remnants of Arendelle’s grandeur, pulling chunks of the castle into the fjord. The mighty structure sagged, weakened and fractured, its silhouette now jagged and broken against the bright, blue sky. Pools of seawater filled the courtyard, and the once-clear pathways were now treacherous streams of muddy water and rubble.

The thunderous rush of the sea still echoed in her ears, as if the wave had never stopped. Elsa, bruised and battered, looked upon the destruction, refusing to believe. 

She had given everything, and still, it had not been enough. 

Panting hard, Elsa stared incredulously as the Nøkk smoothly lowered the barrier protecting them, exposing her to cold, fresh air. The scent of the sea had always been strong in Arendelle, but now it was inescapable. She became aware of her clenched fists, squeezing so hard that little half-moon indentations were dark along her palms; she stared at her hands. Why? 

Elsa knew she had power enough to stop this wave; why had the ice not answered her call?

The spirits knew , she reminded herself, struggling to control her breathing. Elsa’s gaze darted around the broken castle, and her braid plastered itself to her back, as she frantically tried to piece it together. They knew this would happen—that’s why they forced us to flee. It was—it was an evacuation .

A realization cut through her shock and despair: this destruction, as painful and impossible as it was, had been inevitable. The spirits had known it, the trolls had even foreseen it, but more than any of that, Elsa knew this in her bones. 

This was retribution.

For the wrongs committed by their ancestors, for the years of harm against the Northuldra, against nature, that could never be undone. She had been a fool to think she could stop Fate. Or justice. 

But the heart of Arendelle was not its castle, or her villages; it was her people. It was her sister .

“Anna,” Elsa breathed, reaching out for the Nøkk, but he was already there, lowering himself to her so that she could climb onto his back. She did so against the stiffness of her muscles, squinting against the bright light of the sky. When had she last slept, she wondered, clinging onto the Nøkk’s mane to keep from falling. At last she was seated atop her steed, bracing herself against the inevitable; the castle may have fallen, but Arendelle’s spirit would endure as long as its people did. As she looked at the remnants of the castle, determination sparked within her.

“Thank you,” she whispered to the Nøkk, her voice hoarse but steady. “We need to find her.”

The Nøkk, sensing her determination, nodded and shimmered brighter. With a final glance at the broken castle, Elsa set off, her heart heavy but her spirit unyielding. Arendelle would rise again, not from its stones, but from the resilience and unity of its people, and Elsa knew, in the deepest, most secret corner of her heart, that Anna—

Anna would be the one to lead them.

Elsa rode across the sea for what felt like ages, until, at last, there she was—on the rocks overlooking the sea, huddled in Kristoff’s arms. 

“Oh, thank you, ” Elsa whispered, as tears threatened to spill over, as the Nøkk’s strong legs carried her swiftly toward the person she cared more deeply about than anything else in the world. “Oh, thank goodness! ”

It was too far to make out all the details clearly, but Elsa could see well enough as Kristoff was summoned by a member of the Northuldra, reluctantly leaving Anna to wait along the shore as he returned to camp to aid with the final preparations. 

Elsa lowered herself in her seat, urging the Nøkk to ride faster, faster, faster. “Anna! ” she cried, but her sister remained curled in on herself, for Elsa’s voice was lost to the wind and waves.

As the Nøkk broke over the cresting surf and reached the shore at last, Anna’s tearstreaked face looked up in alarm from the curl of her arms. Elsa stumbled as she dismounted, tripping along the rocks as she scrambled to hold her sister, to apologize for leaving her behind. 

“Anna! You’re all right! ” Anna’s mournful eyes were glazed with shock and confusion as she took in the sight before her. Elsa’s exhausted laughter bubbled out of her as she took in the dirt and dust and bruises of her beautiful sister, safe, safe, safe.

Elsa ignored Anna’s outreached hand and lifted her arms to grab hold of her, to pull her close, to press her cheek to hers and promise to never, ever leave her again—

But a sickening lurch yanked her heart into her stomach, and then the sharp jut of rocks cut into her palms, her elbows, and her knees. Elsa gasped as the stinging pain cut into her flesh.

Blinking down in confusion at the gravel beneath her, Elsa caught her breath. A disturbing sensation was threatening to overwhelm her, some sick panic carving out her middle, but Elsa breathed it out, pushed it down .

Wincing against the pain in her hands and knees, Elsa lifted herself slightly up off the ground. “Anna?” she gasped.

Her sister was ignoring her—she’d wandered closer to the Nøkk, who was crying a mournful sound, stomping his hooves in the shallow waves against the shore. Elsa could only see her sister’s back, and the outstretched hand she raised to try to calm the Nøkk, who watched on in increasing agitation.

“Anna!” Elsa cried out, hurt. “ Anna, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have left you, but I—I—that’s no reason to ignore—Anna. Are you listening? ” As she slowly eased herself standing, all stiff muscles and stinging flesh, a sickening thought flipped her stomach. She strode to Anna’s back, reaching for her shoulder. Could Anna be pushing her away, as Elsa had done before, once upon a time? No. No, she wouldn’t… then why…?

“Anna, please, look at me—”

Impossibly, the hand that reached to grasp Anna’s shoulder never caught—and instead passed through. 

A light sheen of ethereal blue appeared at the space where hand and shoulder merged, as Elsa’s hand touched only air, touched nothing—as it passed through her sister’s body as if she were nothing more than a ghost.

A startled scream tore through her throat. Elsa pressed both hands forward but caught nothing. Fear had been a growing well inside her for hours, but now terror erupted forth, spilling out and trickling through her veins—but no ice crept from her skin, and no matter how many times Elsa tried to reach her sister, no touch ever made contact. Elsa called her sister’s name, but all that came from her throat was a disbelieving, animal-like howl. 

The Nøkk reared back on his hind legs, forcing Anna to step back—and step through Elsa, completely.

She stumbled back, the truth sinking in with horrifying clarity. Desperation clawed at her as she tried again and again to make contact, each failed attempt deepening the chasm of despair inside her.

“Anna!” she wailed, her voice cracking with the weight of her anguish. “Anna, please, see me! Hear me!” But Anna continued to move away from her, unaware of her sister’s presence, tears streaming down her face in grief as she tried to calm the distressed Nøkk.

“Shhh, shhhh,” she calmed the Nøkk, who at last let Anna hold her muzzle to her face, although his agitation did not quiet. “Hello there,” she soothed, clucking and humming even as she hiccuped through broken breaths, as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Where did you come from?”

Elsa fell to her knees, her shins landing hard on the cold, wet rocks. Her heart shattered, the pieces scattering like ice crystals. She had fought so hard, endured so much…  

Suddenly, Anna paused, a shiver running down her spine as if she sensed something. She turned, her eyes wide and searching, but they passed right over Elsa, unable to see the figure kneeling before her.

“Anna, please! ” Elsa whispered, her voice a fragile thread in the storm. “I’m here. I’m right here.” But the words were lost to the wind, carried away, falling deaf on her sister’s ears.

The Nøkk reared again, sensing Elsa’s distress, and Anna stepped back, her confusion turning to alarm as she looked around frantically. “Elsa? ” she called out, her voice trembling. “Elsa, where are you?”

Elsa’s heart leapt at the sound of her name, but the hope was fleeting. She reached out one last time, her fingers brushing through the air where Anna stood. “I’m here,” she sobbed. “I’m right here.”

But no connection came. No recognition sparkled in Anna’s eyes. She remained alone in her spectral plane, unseen and untouched. The Nøkk, sensing the depth of Elsa’s pain, lowered its head, its form shimmering and fading back into the waves.

As the Nøkk dissolved, Elsa felt an overwhelming wave of loneliness and despair wash over her. She watched helplessly as Anna tried to call back the agitated spirit.

“Anna,” Elsa cried out one last time, her voice barely more than a whisper. “ I’m so sorry. ”

The sound of footsteps approaching broke through her despair. Elsa twisted her body toward the figure bursting through the woods, her shaking arms raised halfway ready to fight— but then Kristoff appeared, his face a mix of relief and urgency. 

“Anna! I heard yelling—what happened?!”

But Anna said nothing. She rushed into Kristoff’s arms, yanking one last mournful cry from Elsa as she passed through Elsa’s body on the ground. Anna sobbed into Kristoff’s chest, and he murmured empty reassurances back at her, cradling the crown of her head. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Kristoff promised her. “We’ll find her. She’s probably back in Arendelle—she’ll come back.”

“No,” Anna wailed, clutching his coat. “She’s gone. Kristoff—she’s gone .”

Elsa watched as Kristoff led Anna away from the coast. She had failed to save her kingdom, and now… she was impossibly, inconceivably invisible to the one person she cared about most. 

The weight of her isolation pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. She stayed there, crying softly, her sobs blending with the sound of the waves. 

Am I being punished? she wondered. By whom?

What was she supposed to do now?

Anna would be on the move soon—she would need her sister, even if she could not hear her, feel her, see her. Elsa knew she should get up; she had left Anna alone, again, and broken her promise. No matter what had happened to Elsa—no matter what would happen to her—she could not leave her sister unprotected again. 

Something in Elsa’s memory clicked. Her eyes narrowed in recognition. 

“He’s going after her,” the man had said. “He’s going after all of them. And you’re gonna help me stop him.”

Elsa stilled where she sat on the rocks, hugging her bloodied knees to her chest, feeling the heavy weight of something sink into her skin; it felt suspiciously like inevitability.

Jack found her this way, curled into herself on the shore. The Nøkk was standing guard over her, nudging her shoulder insistently with his muzzle, his hooves in a nearby tidal basin.

Elsa didn’t look up as Jack floated himself down to the ground just a few paces behind her and the Nøkk, nor did she make any movements as the wind and the leaves curled about his face, whispering to him that the people of Arendelle were safe—but devastated, and banding together against the pain. Anna and Kristoff were with the Northuldra, making preparations to embark on their journey back to rejoin their refugee kingdom and find whatever remained of Arendelle. Anna’s abject misery and Kristoff’s soul-deep worry were stark contrasts to the relieved and bittersweet moods of the lost Arendellian contingent and the Northuldran tribe… both freed at last, and knowing the full cost of that recompense.

Jack chewed on his cheek as he took in the harsh line of her bare shoulders, and the defeated curve of her spine; the fury and outrage that had driven him from the depths of Ahtohallan in search of this stubborn creature slowly dissipated, cooling into something beneath his skin instead of burning throughout. Jack swallowed down the pain and resentment—and, dare he say it, fear –-of being trapped, however briefly, in that place, where Pitch’s dark Shadows still clung to every inch.

“I can probably forgive you for that,” Jack dryly called out to her back, noting with mild surprise that she didn’t flinch at the sound of his voice. “You know. Eventually.”

She didn’t turn around to face him; taking that as a sign that she no longer considered him a threat, Jack strode around the Nøkk to stand in front of her. He dropped down to get closer to her eye level, but even crouched on the ground, she would still need to look up at him… 

“How did you find me?” she whispered. 

As if in answer, a gust of wind brushed along her cheek, sending leaves dancing about her shoulders. Jack watched her expression as she looked up at him, at last. Visible trails lined her cheeks, even though they were mostly dried. Jack pushed down uncomfortable, unwanted feelings.

“A little leafy told me,” he answered dryly. 

“A what?” Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Do you mean—are you Gale?”

Despite himself, Jack scoffed out a chuckle. “Not exactly.” Jack eyed her cheeks, the too-bright shine of her eyes. Elsa looked away. “So… you’ve been busy, after dunking your would-be partner in a hole and running off on your own.” Jack chewed his cheek, letting his cold eyes bore into her. “What happened?”

“Arendelle has fallen.”

Jack kept his face blank. “Your subjects are safe, at least. For now.”

Elsa nodded. Jack waited. And waited.

“What else?”

“Anna can’t see me or hear me,” Elsa choked out, fresh tears threatening to spill over, but she held them back. “I’m… invisible, somehow.”

Jack’s eyes widened. Shit.

“Well… that’s unexpected.” Elsa snapped her gaze back to his. Relenting, Jack shrugged, trying to soften his expression and awkwardly offering, “I… know a thing or two about being invisible. She can’t see me, either. None of you could, until whatever happened to you in Ahtohallan. But whatever is happening to you is just the aftereffects of that—you’re still recovering from your little nap, aren’tcha?”

“Nap—what—what are you talking about?” Elsa demanded, exasperated, hurt, exhausted.

Jack tried to push down the fire that suddenly flared inside of him again, an anger that returned with a vengeance. He felt his patience wearing thin, fraying at the edges like the seams of his clothes. We don’t have time for this!

He clasped his hand over his mouth, lest he say something he regretted later, and then ran it over his face and through his hair. Muttering beneath his breath, he paced up and down the small stretch of beach under Elsa’s harsh, scrutinizing, suspicious gaze, when he caught a glimpse of himself in the small pools of water that had been caught on the shore. 

With his furrowed brow and deep frown… for a moment, he thought his bitterness could have rivaled Bunnymund’s. He quickly swiped his hand over his face, loosening his jaw. I have got to stop pulling that mean eyebrow thing. I refuse to become that kangaroo, I refuse. 

Letting out the deepest breath, he glanced back to Elsa at last, meeting her pale gaze—Had they always been that pale? Like lilacs?—and suddenly, all of their shared confusion, apprehension, and fear brought him back to the days of his youth, shortly after his rebirth as a spirit... Stumbling around the pond where he had once spent his childhood, just an unremarkable village boy who shirked his chores and joked around too much and only thought of how he could make his sister laugh.

How lost he had been, all alone in that new world he never thought could be so vast?  

Jack watched as Elsa fidgeted with her hands under his thoughtful gaze. He looked into pale lilacs, and realized… that was Elsa now, having lost everything she had ever known. Thrust into a world beyond her understanding. 

But at least, she would not be completely alone. 

“Your Majesty,” he tried again, with a softer tone. He debated calling her by her name again, like he had in the depths of Ahtohallan, but maybe that had also thrown her off; he wasn’t an expert on royal etiquette, but… calling her by her first name was probably too familiar too soon, right? “You froze in there. In Ahtohallan. Did you… realize?”

If what he said had shaken Elsa in any way, she did not show it. Instead, she raised her chin. “I’m aware.”

“Ok, uh… good. I guess. So, I hope you’re also aware that turning into a solid ice sculpture would take a lot out of anyone. Ahtohallan powers or not,” he pressed, daring to take a step closer, and then crouching down to her eye-level. “I know you’re used to running the show, and you’re not gonna like what I’m about to say, but you shouldn’t go running off by yourself like you usually do, and you most definitely can’t afford to push help away when it’s generously—and very patiently —being offered to you. You need it. At least, until you’re back to yourself again.”

Elsa's gaze hardened. “What are you?” she glared. “Really?”

Jack sighed deeply. It’d been a long time since he’d really talked to someone. Easy, Frost, he reminded himself. She doesn’t understand. Help her see. And don’t make her run away again, you idiot!

“Look—it’s… a long story.”

Elsa waited. Jack knew she wasn’t going to let this go. And she deserved some explanation.

“Okay. Fine. I’m a spirit called a Guardian. Eleven thousand… ish, years ago, I was tasked with the responsibility of bringing down one of the most powerful and darkest creatures in the world: Pitch Black. He traveled from my future to a time before this one, and in the battle—well, he and I got trapped here for millennia. The magic he used to travel and the magic I used to follow him are both gone now, but I was able to imprison him, here, in the ice and the new magic that Ahtohallan is made of. The magic you have.” 

Elsa blinked. “You can’t possibly mean…”

“Ahtohallan was created out of whatever happened that night,” Jack pressed, ignoring the confused—and perhaps alarmed—expression on her face. “I’ve spent that last several thousand years making sure that nothing got out—or into—Ahtohallan… until last night.”

Elsa’s eyes widened. “What I did in Ahtohallan… you said it freed this—this Pitch Black creature? You’re saying that when I sent my signal to Anna… I freed this Pitch?”

Jack nodded, then sighed with his whole body. “Unfortunately for us—yes.” 

“But… how could I free something supposedly so powerful?”

“I arrived here too late, and considering you were already a block of ice when I showed up—I don’t know exactly what happened yet, but whatever you did… the point is, I need your help to drag him back and lock him back in there. Preferably before Mother Nature decides she’s not in the mood to be patient anymore and takes it out on us, and ends up being the one to clean up the mess—which will just piss her off more—because then we’re both in even more trouble.”

“Mother Nature is real? ”

“Very real, and you do not want to meet her when she’s angry. Trust me.”

Jack stood and held out a hand to help her, but Elsa did not take his hand or move to get up off the ground. She was struggling with the weight of the revelations—half of which she still did not understand. “How can I possibly trust you?” she asked quietly, desperately.

Jack met her gaze, his eyes intense and sincere. “I don’t know. But can’t you feel it?”

Instead of answering him, she swept her gaze down his body, taking in the sight of his staff, his cloak, his… bare feet. He forced himself not to shift in place. 

“So, what are your powers then?” Elsa asked, skeptical curiosity edging into her voice. “You… you can fight?”

Jack allowed a smirk—an expression he had not worn for a long, long time. Chuckling dryly, “Yeah, I can fight.”

Elsa noted his grin with no small measure of impatience... or mistrust.

“With… your shepherd’s staff?”

Jack took in the sight of her dubious expression and let out another perplexed, exasperated scoff-laugh. “It’s—it’s not just a staff! It transforms! And excuse me, Your Majesty, but in case you didn’t realize, I managed to track you down with nothing but the leaves and the wind.” Feeling particularly emboldened and defiant—and, if he was honest, an urge to showboat, at least a little, “And I can also do this,” he rose up into the air, and perched himself effortlessly atop the crook of his still-upright-on-its-own-staff. “And a dozen other things, but we’d be here all day, and we really don’t have the time.”

Elsa’s wide-eyed, disbelieving look was a sweet reward for banter-deprived Jack, but before he pushed any further, he caught himself.

Slow down, Jack. She’s not them.

Jack sighed. “Sorry. I should show you something.”

Without warning, Jack extended his arm, and opened his palm, revealing the smooth, pale skin of his hand. A chill emanated from his fingertips, and the air around him began to shimmer with an icy mist. Elsa’s eyes widened as a soft blue light pulsed from the center of his palm, growing brighter. The temperature around his hand dropped rapidly, and tiny ice crystals formed in the air, swirling around his hand in an intricate dance. The ice magic coalesced into a brilliant, glowing sphere, hovering just above his palm. It radiated a cold so intense it seemed to burn, the raw power of winter condensed into a tangible form. Jack’s gaze was unwavering, his connection to the magic absolute. Elsa’s whole face was slack with shock.

Just because he’d almost forgotten his center did not mean that he hadn’t improved his skills over the past eleven thousand years or so; you don’t play jailor to the Big Bad without learning a thing or two along the way.

“Are you—you’re like me?” Elsa whispered. 

“Well… sorta,” Jack tilted his head to the side, releasing the orb, allowing the molecules to resume their original form. He was amused to see the slightly crestfallen look on Elsa’s face when it finally disappeared. Jack nearly lost his train of thought. “Uh. Well, you already know that your powers probably come from Ahtohallan and nature. We figured out that much, at least, from all this mess. I’m known as Jack Frost. Mine comes from the Man in the Moon.”

Elsa lifted herself off the ground—wincing at the bloodied scrapes on her hands and knees and ignoring his outstretched hand, in favor of staring at him in alarm. “There is a Man in the Moon ?”

“Uh. Kind of? He lives on the Moon, but that story is really more complicated than what we have time for right now. The important bit is that each of the Guardians was appointed by Manny, the Moon guy, and we each have different centers that power our magic.”

“And yours is… ice?”

“Technically, it’s fun.”

Elsa’s confused stare and arched brow did not help his confidence.

“Okay, okay, so, I know it doesn’t really sound like much help right now, but that’s not the point! To help fulfill my Guardian duties, I can control and manipulate snow, ice, frost, the cold—“

Elsa’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you say you came from?”

“Logistically speaking, I got here eleven or so thousand years ago, and to be honest, I sorta slept through a couple thousand of those, but originally, I’m from, like, the future.”

“You’re a spirit Guardian from… deep in the future, who was trapped here for millennia, whose magic is to create… fun? And… you were tasked with capturing the core of Darkness? ” 

“You know what?” Jack scoffed, very close to snapping. “Forget the fun, okay, it’s not even relevant right now!”

“You’re the one who broached the issue! And quite frankly, do you even hear yourself right now? Just tell me about this Pitch and how you propose we stop him!”

“Fine!” 

In their frustration, their faces had gotten much closer; too close. Jack stepped back when Elsa’s suspicious glare lingered too long on the scar over his eye. He took a deep breath and leveled his tone.

“Pitch has had millennia to plan his escape. He’s been luring spirits and mortals—including you—to his prison for ages. Including himself. His Past self, I mean. Originally, he was using the voice of someone… he knew. Whoever’s voice he was using this time was clearly targeting you.”

Elsa physically recoiled. “You can’t seriously be implying that the siren call I heard was his doing!”

“Uh… sorry. Probably shouldn’t have dropped another bomb like that.”

“A what? ”

“Anyway! That’s not the point. Whatever happened to you in there was meant to happen. We know that. At this point, it doesn’t matter that he was the one calling you, because you had a Destiny to fulfill, and you fulfilled it, and now he’s escaped. We need to spend our very limited time figuring  out what his next steps are.”

“You don’t already know?” Elsa blinked.

“Just because I fought him a bunch and was his jailer for a couple thousand years doesn’t mean I can read his mind.”

“No, I mean—isn’t it obvious?”

Now, Jack did snap. “Okay, Prodigal Shadow Hunter, fill in the blanks for the simpleton Fun Guy, will you?”

“He wants an army,” Elsa insisted, as cold dread sank down his spine. “Right? To enact his revenge for his imprisonment? And wouldn’t he still want to return to your proper time?”

Jack shook his head, tightening his jaw. “That second bit’s impossible. The magic that brought us here was… definitely, irrevocably lost. We’re stuck here until we die—or catch up to our future selves.” It was a thought he tried not to dwell on.

From the look on Elsa’s face, he could tell that it wasn’t nice for her to think about, either. Her eyes were so bright and clear. He turned his gaze to the sky, running a hand through his windswept hair.

“So… if he cannot rule in his own time, he of course would want to take control of this one. At least, in the meantime.”

Jack sighed. “Alright, so… if you’re a pissed-off spirit of Nightmares and Darkness who’s been imprisoned in magical ice for eleven millennia and you wanted to recruit an army fast…. what would you do?”

“If you mean corrupt an army… then where better to start than with the four core elemental spirits responsible for the well-being of nature?”

Jack slapped his palm to his forehead. “And sweep them right out underneath Mother Nature, leaving her no choice but to go after him, leading her straight to him. Damn.” Jack glared at her. “You’re clever. I’d usually appreciate that, but right now, it’s just really, really bad news bears.”

“What do bears have to do with this?”

“Forget it. Come on—do you prefer bridal style or piggyback?”

“I—I beg your pardon?”

“Did you develop flying abilities after you turned into an icicle?”

For a brief, strangely adorable moment, Elsa appeared as if she weren’t sure.

“No?”

“Alright, then. We gotta move fast, and Jack Frost Airways is open for business: should I carry you at my chest, or would you rather ride on my back?”

Elsa’s delightful, indignant blush was an unexpected balm to eleven thousand years of mere Memories to sustain him. It even helped quiet the little, insistent, nagging voice that warned him that he was stretching Elsa’s trust; she didn’t know, after all, that he could easily have flown her alongside him with the simple act of holding her hand.

I need to have both of my hands free, anyway, he reasoned. We’ll both be safer, this way.

Besides, Jack smirked, extending his arm in invitation, as Elsa warily looked on. She’ll be back to her old life soon, and I’ll be back, alone… 

“Consider it a trust-building exercise,” he offered. For a long moment, Elsa simply looked at him, reading whatever it was that she saw on his face. 

He ignored the thrill in his blood when she slowly nodded her cautious acceptance, and reached for his hand.

Sincerely uncomfortable with the thought of allowing him any further opportunity to see the expressions on her face, Elsa opted for holding onto his back. 

All in all, she thought she was doing a remarkable job of hiding the fact that she had never been in such a vulnerable position—not even as a child. But if they were going to reluctantly work together, and chase after this night demon… and if Elsa was going to have any chance at collecting her thoughts against the onslaught of all that she had learned and seen and suffered in the past few day alone, then she couldn’t allow him to see her face. 

At first, Elsa tried not to cling too tightly to his back, or shift her weight. She tried to stay a respectful distance, but it was impossible with all of the twists and turns he was doing as he led them over the vast forest and into the open countryside.

“Is that really necessary?” she hissed into the air beside his ear, tightening her hold around his broad shoulders because he left her no choice.

She could feel his smirk, even if she couldn’t see it. “Sorry, your Majesty—we’re in a bit of a hurry, and a storm is brewing, if you didn’t notice.”

Unfortunately, she had; the sky was gray with looming, ominous clouds.

“Is that him?”

“Maybe. A little ballsy for him to be out already since it’s not even close to sunset and it’s only his first day out, but maybe he got impatient.”

Elsa’s brow furrowed. “Or maybe he saw an opportunity and he took it. That’s where the dam is supposed to be.”

“Shit. That’s where the Earth giants are. Your sister already took down the dam—in fact, that might have been what woke you up, since Runeard’s wrong against the Northuldra and Enchanted Forest was righted.”

Elsa leaned forward, peering down at his profile. “How do you know these things?”

Unable to help himself, Jack smirked. “Well, I’m something of a King myself, you know.”

Elsa raised a dubious brow. “Is that so? Over what, exactly?”

“The leaves,” he said plainly, “and the wind, too, but she doesn’t like it when I say that.”

“Is this one of those jokes you told me you like to do? As the Guardian of Fun?”

“Ha! Please, my jokes are way better than that.” Jack shook his head with a mischievous smile he hadn’t worn for a while. “No, Gale really doesn’t like being reminded that I’m the boss, but it’s true. That’s a cute name for her, by the way.”

“Jack.”

“Elsa,” he dared.

After a moment of relishing in her icy stare, he finally continued, “I am being serious, though. The wind tells me—well. The leaves, too. They’re like my helpers. It’s complicated. But it’s a bit like a—uh, man, what were those things called again… anyway, it doesn’t matter, they haven’t been invented yet. The point is that whenever something happens, they report to me, and they can send messages for me, too. They let me keep track of what’s going on.” 

Elsa’s eyes narrowed. “How long, exactly, have you been watching over me?”

“Hey. Save the suspicion for the Nightmare King. I only found out about you, actually, when you passed through the Enchanted Forest mist. You weren’t supposed to be able to do that, by the way—or so Mother Nature and I thought, anyway.”

Elsa pondered his words. “But I was able to? Because I’m connected to Ahtohallan?”

“Yeah, probably, but that’s a mystery for later. Preferably when there’s not a nightmare demon on the loose.”

“Jack Frost… Guardian of Fun, Jailor of Fear, King of Leaves,” she said witheringly. “Anything else?”

“Mysterious hunter, charming prankster, devilishly handsome winter spirit… but that’ll do for now. Look,” Jack instructed, grim-faced, and hoisting Elsa higher on his hips. Elsa did not shriek. “We’ve got incoming.”

There, at the trailhead by the dam, was the Arendelliean contingent and a small group of Northuldran people, in their sleigh and with their many reindeer, preparing to head toward the ruins of Arendelle and the refugee camp—and crying out in fear at the three towering Earth Giants, their rocks blackened. 

Dark shadows clung to the Giants’ every agitated movement. Their warbling cries were broken with eerie, haunting suffering. Elsa’s heart clenched in her chest at their pain. “We’re too late!” she whispered, clutching his shoulders more tightly, fear gripping her heart.

“Not yet!”Jack sent a burst of power, sending the Giants staggering back, toppling onto the trees from the force of the wind. “You’re gonna have to call to them! They need to recognize you as somehow connected to Ahtohallan!”

“Wait! What about Anna?”

“She’ll be safe for now! I’ll hold them off while you send up an ice wall behind us to block them from going after them—shoot it up once they get far enough along the trail!”

Fear crept into Elsa’s veins—the memory of Arendelle’s destruction was too fresh, too raw. “I—I will!”

“Keep an eye on them—and hang on!”

Elsa desperately clutched her arms around his chest and wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him full control of both of his arms as he flung them through the sky. Elsa’s unbound hair whipped around her face, obscuring her vision, but she didn’t dare let Anna and Kristoff out of her sight for a mere moment. Olaf—where is Olaf?

Jack thrashed in the air. If Elsa slowed him down, he didn’t show it. But just as quickly as they began, Elsa realized that the Giants would not respond to her the way the Nøkkhad the night before.

“They can’t sense me,” she said close to his ear. “Whatever Pitch is doing to corrupt them—they’re losing their connection to nature! He’s—he’s Darkened their powers and silenced the bond!”

“Figures,” Jack muttered. “He’s really good at that, unfortunately. Okay, Plan B—focus on the wall! We’ll figure out how to heal them later, but right now, we need to trap them from going any further—in any direction!”

“Alright!”

Just a bit more, Elsa begged, watching the travelers escape closer and closer to safety. Elsa couldn’t even see Anna’s hair—she must have been wearing a cloak. Elsa pushed down her fear and focused.

As soon as the contingent cleared the Enchanted Forest and out into the open, Elsa cried out, “They’re clear! They’ve made it out of the forest!” She yelped as he dropped twenty feet in the air, clutching him tighter. “Face the trail so I can build the wall!”

“Okay, but be quick—I don’t wanna leave my back to them for any longer than I have to!”

With one final wave of wind, Jack twisted midair to allow Elsa an unrestricted view of the clearing. 

Elsa focused, one of her hands outstretched as she tried to summon her ice magic. She could feel the familiar cold energy gathering in her palm, but when she tried to release it, nothing happened. Panic began to rise in her chest as she tried again, willing the ice to form, but her powers remained dormant.

“Come on,” she whispered desperately, thrusting her hand forward. “Please, work!”

Jack glanced back at her, his expression strained. “What’s wrong?”

“I... I can’t,” Elsa stammered, her voice shaking. “My powers aren’t working!”

“What do you mean they’re not working?!”

“I don’t know! They’re just— Jack, look out!”

Elsa cried out as Jack swerved to the side just in time; her hand had been outstretched in a futile attempt to use her powers, so her legs painfully clenched around his waist, forcing herself to remain connected, and when she urgently latched her arms around his neck and chest, her face ended up pressed into his neck and shoulder, braced against the wind left behind by the force of the Darkened giant’s mighty paw. She willfully ignored the impropriety— Be offended later! Just survive! What is wrong with you?

“Damn it!” Jack hissed. “We don’t have time for this! Try again!”

Elsa nodded, her heart pounding. She focused harder, trying to push past the block in her magic. She reached deep within herself, searching for the source of her power. She could feel it, buried beneath layers of fear and doubt. With a final, desperate effort, she pulled at it, willing the ice to come forth. She could feel some energy swirling inside her, but something was wrong; only a few sputtering sparks of snowflakes took shape. 

Not only was it as if something was preventing it from escaping… but the strength of it, too… where once she had caged a tempest… she now only felt the gentlest of drops…

“Jack! It’s not working!”

A frustrated snarl escaped him. “New plan!” 

Jack landed on the ground, setting Elsa down gently, shouting, “ Focus!” before flying back into the fray. He summoned powerful gusts of wind, creating a barrier of his own to slow the Giants’ advance. The effort was immense, and Elsa could see the strain on his face.

“Come on, Elsa,” she whispered to herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “You can do this. You have to do this.”

She concentrated on the feeling of the ice, the way it used to flow effortlessly from her hands. She pictured the ice wall in her mind, strong and unyielding, protecting her people— and, a tiny voice whispered— protecting her Giants, too. 

“Please,” Elsa begged, as the magic stuttered into nothing. She was losing the thread, and the giants were nearing the edge of the treeline—

With a fierce cry, Jack thrust his staff forward, glowing with energy. A massive wall of ice erupted from the ground, easing upward in a solid block of white—extending for miles in both directions, towering over the Giants who roared in fury at being thwarted from their path, until the ice expanded around them in a complete circle, caging them inside.

The Giants slammed into the ice wall, but it held firm, the shimmering surface resisting their force. Elsa watched in awe as Jack’s power surged, thickening the barrier, strong enough to hold back the corrupted Giants, even at the cost of the nature it overtook as it grew and grew. The giants roared in frustration, their dark forms battering against the ice. 

Jack gritted his teeth, his arms trembling with the effort. “Elsa! Any time now would be great! ”

Sudden recognition and understanding roiled through her—followed quickly by terror, and the urge to be sick.

“Jack!” she called, eyes wide. “Something’s wrong! I think—I think he weakened my powers!”

Jack’s eyes widened—so much that she could see the whites completely surrounding the blue—and then launched himself toward her just in time to narrowly miss the kick of a Giant’s foot. In a blink, he’d lifted her into his arms and sprang into the air, swerving left and right to avoid the onslaught of Darkened Giants who had given up slamming into the wall and were doing their best to knock them from the sky. Elsa held onto Jack’s neck and curled in on herself, making herself as small a target as possible as Jack rose ever higher. 

When at last they had slipped past the extent of the Giants’ reach, Jack took his staff in one hand and sent a surge of magic down toward the barrier, gritting his teeth as he urged the ice to grow and grow, shifting upward and inward into a domed enclosure well out of the Giants’ wingspan, trapping them inside entirely. 

Elsa stared in shock and awe at the speed and strength of Jack’s creation. He—he really is like me!

The muffled roars of the corrupted Giants reverberated through the thick ice, but the barrier was so thick it was hard to hear them. Instead, the only sounds were Jack and Elsa’s harsh breaths, intermingling with the cold autumn air above the Enchanted Forest; they stared down at the dome, at the stark white prison against the golds and coppers and earthy tones of the mountain.

And in the next breath, Jack’s face snapped towards hers—startling her into clutching more tightly to his neck. 

Still panting, clearly drained, Jack’s eyes narrowed, his scar slanting with the furious furrow of his brows. 

“Clearly… we have a problem.”