Chapter Text
The wind howled across the North Mountain, but it was not a cruel sound.
It was ancient, knowing. Almost... curious.
Elsa stood at the edge of the frozen cliff, her breath curling in front of her like silver ribbon. The stars were faint pinpricks overhead, veiled by drifting snowflakes that never quite touched the ground—caught in some suspended dance, as though the air itself was hesitant to disturb the quiet.
She had come here to be alone.
And yet, as the wind shifted and the pine trees below shivered, Elsa felt it again.
That presence.
Like a heartbeat in the frost. Like someone watching.
She turned.
At first, she saw nothing—only snow-covered ridges and the familiar glitter of moonlight on ice. But then… movement. A blur of white and silver, like a comet skipping across the surface of a dream.
He stood a few feet away, his staff balanced against his shoulder, and that boyish grin playing on his lips. Mischievous. Gentle. Knowing.
"Didn’t mean to startle you," Jack said, his voice low and melodic, like wind through icicles.
"You didn’t," Elsa replied, though her pulse betrayed her.
Jack’s gaze swept the landscape, the endless expanse of moonlit snow and shadowed forest. "Still coming up here when you want to disappear?"
"It’s peaceful," she said. "The cold... keeps the world quiet."
Jack nodded. "Yeah. That’s the thing about snow. It covers everything, but it also... softens it. Hides the scars."
Elsa didn’t answer. She watched him instead, the way the moonlight kissed his pale skin and made his hair seem like spun starlight. He looked younger than her, and older all at once. There was something in his eyes—a thousand winters lived, a thousand nights alone.
She stepped closer. Not enough to close the space completely—just enough that the silence between them grew warmer, less like absence, more like waiting.
"You’re not supposed to be real," she murmured.
Jack shrugged. "Most people still think I’m not."
"And yet, you’re here."
He smiled. Not his usual smirk, not the teasing one he wore like armor. This one was quiet. Almost shy.
"I think... I came here because you believed in me."
Elsa looked away, unsure of what to do with the ache that rose in her chest. She had spent so long convincing herself she didn’t need anyone. That the cold was her only companion.
But Jack—
Jack felt like the first breath after drowning.
He didn’t speak again, not for a long while. The two of them stood together, letting the silence settle like snow over their shoulders. No need for words. Just the wind and the stars and the knowledge that—for tonight, at least—they weren’t alone.
And then, softly, he asked, "Do you ever wonder if there’s a reason for all this?"
"For what?" she asked.
"The frost. The magic. You and me." His voice cracked a little, almost imperceptibly. "If we’re here for more than just... surviving it."
Elsa didn’t respond right away. She felt the snowflakes melt on her cheeks—not from heat, but from the strange ache in her heart.
"I used to think I was a curse," she said. "Now I’m not sure what I am."
Jack stepped closer, until they were barely a breath apart. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to.
"You’re not a curse, Elsa."
The way he said her name—soft and reverent—almost undid her.
"I’ve seen so many winters," he continued, "but I never stayed. Never lingered. Until you."
And for the first time in years, Elsa let herself believe she might not be the only one who was made for winter.