Frozen Apart // Frozen/RotG // Jelsa

Chapter 1: The Boy

Elsa

The door creaked open softly, the moonlight seeping through the window behind her casting a long shadow across the dimly lit hallway.

Her bare feet padded against the rug in a near silent rhythm as she all but raced to the servant's quarters at the back of the castle, her ten year old heart beating erratically, echoing in her ears.

The cool metallic knob turned softly in her hand, granting her a small sense of relief at the realization that it was unlocked. She slipped into the stairwell and made her way down the stairs, all the while hoping that nobody would hear her.

Several doors and a kitchen later she was outside. It was cooler than she remembered, the last time she'd been out being nearly a year ago, but not enough to truly bother her. Standing there with her feet in the thin layer of snow on the back steps of the pantry entrance, she could almost feel like it was all a bad dream— that maybe that night one year ago had never actually happened, and that she hadn't lost her sister.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew lost wasn't exactly the right word for what had happened. Ana hadn't died or gone away, in fact she was always there, just a door away. But to Elsa, there was no other word to describe it. In their game of playing with fire, or ice, technically, she'd lost both her freedom and sister in one turn.

She shook her head, clearing away the cobwebs of memories. This wasn't what she was here for. She wasn't here to mourn over her loses and lick her wounds, rather to pick up the shards of whatever was left and attempt to piece them together into some semblance of a happy ending.

She shifted onto the balls of her feet, bouncing softly, her breath catching the cool air in a cloud of warmth and cold before she closed her eyes and inhaled one last time.

Then she flew.

She ran like a caged gazelle, crazed for freedom and running from a predator, her form surely a blur in the darkness to any who were there to bear witness to her act of minute defiance. If this was freedom, she never wanted to be chained down again.

The world was spinning and her legs seemed to pull her through the night, leaving behind a shadow of her past and bringing her closer to the light of something that may even resemble hope. Eventually she slowed to a stop, finding herself in a small, moonlit clearing, surrounded by tall trees on all sides. She spun around slowly, her gaze catching on the lightly blowing branches of the pines towering over her.

If she closed her eyes, it was like nothing else in the world mattered. It was just her, the wind, and moon whose light illuminated the back of her eyelids.

Something snapped then, a branch or a thin layer of ice, and Elsa spun around so fast that she fell to the ground, her nightgown becoming soaked through by the soft snow nearly immediately.

She scowled down at the now frozen folds of the dress, her momentary lapse in focus causing the dress to freeze to the contours of her fall. She struggled to stand up, but instead found herself back on the ground, now covered in even more snow.

There was a burst of laughter just at the edge of the tree line, and Elsa's head snapped up so fast that her braid whipped up and down and caught the space between her shoulder blades in a harsh flick.

A boy stood next to one of the trees, his laughter starting up again once he glimpsed a look of her glaring expression. He moved to hold onto the tree next to him, instead missing and falling into the bank of snow. He sat up abruptly with a befuddled look on his face which sent Elsa into her own fit of laughter.

Once their laughter had died down, the boy attempted to stand up, using the tree as support. Elsa instead focused on breaking the small ice crystals which were caught in the frozen folds of her dress.

Once they were both standing and facing each other, there was a silence. Not awkward, just observant.

He looked about her age, maybe leaning toward being eleven or so, with a mess of brown hair dripping with snowflakes, and a pair of bark brown eyes that practically screamed mischief. His tunic was a light tan color, his pants and short cloak like attire a couple shades darker to matching the darker shadows of his hair.

All in all, he was refreshing, so far unlike the castle staff and her parents that he could've come from a different world.

Becoming aware of her own clothing, Elsa tugged at the hem of her dress and tried to smooth out the wrinkles caused by the trodden ground. She felt her braid, and sighed when she realized that it had lost it's tie, and was now unraveling. She ran her fingers through her hair with a grimace as she caught on some of its tangles.

The boy who now stood a few paces away from her seemed to be rummaging through his pant pockets, before giving up and looking up to the fading moon with a scowl on his face.

He said something under his breath, before proceeding to check the small satchel that hung at his waist.

He sighed and looked up, gaze locking on her eyes, something lighting in the irises in a way that caused her breath to catch.

He smiled, a welcoming one that tilted up at the right, before stepping forward and holding out his hand and stating calmly, "Jack. Jack Overland."

Holding out her own hand to grasp his, she all but whispered, "Elsa, Princess of Arendelle."

***

Last Edited: 2.7.17