Frost

II. THE BRINGER OF WINTER

Back at the great tree with Father Time, Mother Nature paced again on the floor. She took no mind of her marvelous surroundings; paid no notice to the tapestries where sunlight had been captured, didn't so much as risk a second glance at the beautiful arches and carved images in the ceiling. She instead stared at the floor as she walked, eyes riveted to the smooth wood in the most intense of focus.

"There's only one person who can bring about wintertime," she eventually said, her voice now rough yet precise, reminding Father of the tree itself, "and it isn't Santa Claus."

Mother paused then, her dress billowing around her for a moment as she faced Father, her hands linking together in the fabric before her. Though her expression was now stern, there was a flicker of excitement in her eyes -- the likes of which, he knew, dared not to grow.

"I think it's about time Jacqueline Frost got involved in this preposterous fairy business," Mother Nature proclaimed, tipping her chin up slightly and retaining a regal manner, the gesture further enunciating the floral crown she wore.

Father Time merely smiled, a slight tug of his lips. He canted his head as he considered her for a long moment. "You realize that Miss Frost has not been involved with fairies in so long that a new generation is in charge."

"Which makes this the perfect time for her involvement," Mother smiled confidently. For Jack Frost was a legendary being who tended to her business, yet in most other situations, strayed from external contact. It wasn't that she was an antisocial creature -- goodness knows she wasn't -- but rather that she was quite mischievous and prone to trouble. Though brilliant at her job, with flawless work none could deny, Jack Frost was not fond of rules.

There still was no doubt in Mother Nature's mind that involving Frost was the best solution. After all, at the moment, the only cold places on the planet were the Arctic and Antarctic! And surely Frost was not enjoying that . . .

"I told you, Mother, I have every good faith in you," Father Time nodded, his smile serene. He knew this woman better than time itself -- better, he sometimes thought, than she knew herself.

Mother Nature paused, her once great smile now fading to a smaller, more amused one. "You anticipated this, didn't you?"

Father Time stood, and in rising to his full height, now towered a whole head over her. "I did, darling," he agreed, a charming smile lighting his face. He strode past her, the cane in hand more for illustration than assisting with walking, "And I am, as usual, not disappointed. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to go to the books." For the books were where he recorded every event that came to pass; the most accurate telling of all of history. "Tell Jack I say hello, though," he said, pausing beside Mother to press a chaste kiss to her forehead.

She smiled a heart-fluttering smile at him before he headed for the winding staircase. "Of course I will," she promised. "And I shall see you soon, when this ordeal has seen its end!"

"Absolutely," he called after her, before he was gone.

Leaving Mother to pace all of two minutes longer before again coming to her firm conclusion. Jack Frost was needed. It was with the barest hint of a smile on her lips that she vanished from the great tree, and headed off to speak to Jack.

The result of her travels was a gust of cold northern air that in any other situation would've left her recipient shaking and seeking warmth. Not so with Jacqueline Frost, who stood proudly in the cold, and made sure eye contact with Mother Nature at the moment of her arrival.

Though Mother rules the fairies, the same cannot be said of Frost. The girl frozen in time was no subject to be ordered about, but rather a free spirit of her own. It was out of respect that Frost stayed within her boundaries, and both she and Mother Nature knew it.

Mother gazed upon Jack with warm affection in her eyes, though her expression remained neutral.

With her pale skin and snow-white hair, she perfectly embodied winter itself. Her eyes shone like blue ice in the sun's cold winter glow, her gaze at all times piercing. Though most anticipated the young legend would wear shades of pale blue and white, perhaps even silver, Jack went against all that.

She wore black that faded to dark shades of blue, in the rebellious type of clothing that teenagers had worn for the past several decades. Standing with her eyes set and the tips of her frosty hair brushing against her jawline, she seemed to embody teenage rebellion and all of winter simultaneously. A strange being indeed.

"I have a problem," Mother Nature spoke first, and she chose her words carefully. To say that the world had a problem would not sway Jack; the world had problems regularly.

"I've noticed," Jack said calmly, sliding one hand into a jacket pocket and leaning her weight to one side. Her head canted slightly. "Vermont can hardly be considered the winter wonderland it ought to, and Alaska can now be described as chilly at best." She scoffed then, shaking her head, her jaw flexing slightly. "Don't even get me started on Russia, much less Finland, Sweden--"

"I see your point," Mother interrupted, knowing full well Jack could list countless snowless places.

Jack's pale lips quirked into a mirthless smile before she uttered: "Greenland. You know," she gave a huff of a laugh, "I always held a grudge against the Vikings for naming those islands as they did. An imbecilic idea -- even worse is that it worked." She laughed again, this time like ice chiming against itself.

"I sometimes forget," Mother Nature sighed, "how old you actually are." She shook her head at that, fondness claiming her features for a moment as she watched Jack carefully. "But that isn't why I'm here."

"Just remember, Mum, that when you ask for my help you also get my winning personality," she said with a dazzling smile.

"The fairies are having a dispute," Mother said, returning Jack's smile with a modest one of her own. "It is, at this point, preposterous immaturity. Poorly thought out rebellion, though I'd hardly call it maliciously directed at me." She sighed heartily, and this time the air shifted, and the humidity rose, the air growing as heavy as her heart felt.

Jack watched Mother Nature critically. She recognized the weariness, and the weight that seemed palpable in those golden, glowing eyes.

"I have told them several times to cease and let order fall back into place," Mother proceeded. "They refuse every time. Though at this point, it would appear to be more out of proving a point with each other--"

"Rather than fighting you," Jack finished with a knowledgable nod. "The fairies respect you, Mum. At least, the last batch did. Can't speak for this one yet--" her smile grew devious, "--haven't met them."

Though typically Mother Nature would've had many a response for Jack's wit and sass, at the moment, she was too weary. This battle was getting the best of her. "Jack," Mother said, stepping toward the girl, her entire being radiating sobriety, "I need you to bring winter."

Jack was silent and still for a fraction of a second, and though her pause lasted so short a time, Mother did not miss the contemplation. It was quickly replaced by a burst of a smile, as unexpected as a blizzard after a day of stagnation.

"Mum," Jack chuckled, "all you had to do was ask."