”No…… You can’t be Jack Frost— he’s… he’s just a myth, a piece of fiction used to explain the weather, like Zeus.”
[But even as she spoke, Riley found herself not believing her own words, staring at him with a shocked expression on her face.]
❝Would any old myth be able to do this?❞
[—-And just like that, he’s off. Taking the girl along with him, of course. Any ordinary idiot can play a magic trick to wow an audience. The thing is, Jack’s much greater than a man who pulls a rabbit from his hat. He’s Old Man Winter, himself; a legend who wields frost at his finger tips and bends the wind to his will. The only way for her to believe is by experiencing. Skating by his side upon a lake that’s surface solidifies at his touch, breathing in the whipping slap of brisk air which can only be generated by his currents, and cling to his frigid wrist that could easily be mistaken as a cold-blooded animal’s.]
❝Woo hoo!❞
[He cheers, continuing to slide patterns of zig-zags and swirls across his brand new ice rink.]
{Elsa was taken aback. She had never seen Jack’s demeanor so serious. It was almost as if his face could do nothing but smirk mischievously or, so she thought.}
”Jack, it’s nothing you can fix or make better. I’ll be fine tomorrow, I promise.”
{The anniversary of her parents’ death. It wasn’t something Elsa liked to think about, but it poked and jabbed at her mind all day. Usually, she could get through it, but today, it was much more difficult. The memories of her parents were so vivid, and it was days like this when she missed them the most. She didn’t know if Jack could understand.}
[Weirdly enough, her vague answers light a flame in the pit of his stomach. It’s not like Jack isn’t capable of getting angry – oh, no. In troubling times when those he cares for are in danger’s reach, he’s cold – so cold he burns. Logic is scorched to a crisp and forgotten in the heat of battle. But never does he ever get upset over something so..–human. The past was cruel, no doubt. With all those times his presence was brushed off as nothing more than a brisk wind or when his name is spoken as if he was a mere fairytale. Still, ignorance is bliss, and possibly his only friend. Lack of interaction excused Jack from normal relationships. A life lived unloved, yes, but also devoid of the feeling that is clouding his brain right now. Whatever it is, all he knows is he doesn’t like it.]
❝Is it me? I mean..–I mean, did I upset you? Are you tired of me?❞
[It comes out harsher than it sounded in his head, but he doesn’t apologize.]
[ she doesn’t even look up to greet the stranger; she’s too busy intently trying to extricate herself from the snow. she’s having very little luck, but no matter — she’ll get herself out eventually, just give her a mo— ooph. ]
[ crap. ]
❝Need a little help?❞
[With a flick of his wrist, the snow parts from the trapped girl to construct a narrow path. Of course, the edges represent Jack’s handiwork – eloquent frost that trail across the snow like the grape vine trellis in Italy.]
It’s not that she was forced to, it’s just that she prefers it.
Some people just don’t understand. ]
“Why would you say that?”
❝– !❞
[His proclaimed mistake, Arendelle’s boundless snowfall, actually leads him to believe that isolation would be possible. That in the midst of his own failure, he can relish in self-pity like his cold spirit was always meant to do.
—-But no. Somehow, someway, the world has managed to find him once again, and he couldn’t be more sick of it.]
