Born of Cold and Winter Air

The Dreams of Children

Queen Idun of Arendelle pulled the blankets up around her wide eyed daughter, carefully tucking her in for the night.

"How's that, sweetie, nice and warm?" Her hands were busy creating a pocket of warmth around the restless five year old.

Elsa smiled at her mother's attempt to keep out the chill of the night. "It doesn't bother me, mama."

Her mother stilled her ministrations and looked up at her daughter, smiling and giving her small hand a gentle squeeze. "I know darling, I just want you to be cozy."

"Will you read to me?" Elsa slid her hand underneath her pillow to retrieve her favorite book of fairytales and lost myths. It was her most treasured possession, and while she never minded Anna playing with her things, this was kept safe out of reach.

"You never have to ask." The queen pulled up the rocking chair she used to nurse Elsa in when she was still a babe and opened up the book her daughter procured. "What will it be tonight?" Her fingers paged through the thick book, passing tales of knights slaying dragons and Norse gods of old; stilling on the story she was sure her daughter would ask for.

"Jack, mama. You know it's my favorite." She giggled pulling her stuffed white bunny to her chest and giving it a squeeze. Her mother smiled, blue eyes soft with knowing.

"Yes, I know."

Like every night Queen Idun read the story of Jack Frost, bringing to life a world where her daughter could find companionship in her powers and no longer feel alone. Elsa always listened closely as if it were her first time hearing the story. Her mother's heart squeezed at the way her daughter's eyes lit up in wonder at the notion of another with her abilities.

She spun and wove Jack's story with skill and ease, never once having to look at the words; she had committed the words to memory from repetition. The queen knew all too well that Elsa had too. With every close of the story, Elsa always had a thought provoking question for her mother, testing the queen's reaction and answer.

"Do you believe Jack Frost is real, Mama?"

The Queen set down the book and looked at her daughter, blue eyes like her own staring back with curiosity. The dreams of children were so important to their growth and self discovery that the queen hesitated to answer. She knew her daughter would hold on to the tale of Jack Frost as unquestionable truth, should she further encourage it. Deep down she feared that it would only cause tremendous disappointment in her daughter when she found out the truth; that he was only ever a myth and that Elsa was completely alone in her gifts. "Elsa, Jack Frost is just a legend past down from generation to generation. It's a beautiful story, my love, but it's only a story." Her mother slid the book into her daughter's lap and gently brushed her fingers through her soft blonde hair.

"If I can be real, then so can he." Elsa said defensively, the room began to grow cold as swirls of ice began to inch and dance across the windows. The fireplace in the room flickered and weakened at the change of climate. She tucked herself and the book underneath the protection of her covers, obscuring herself from her mother's view; book clutched to her breast.

The Queen knelt down by the bed, her voice hushed and kind against the blankets. "Oh my love, believe in whatever your heart tells you to. Sometimes mother's and father's forget what it is to believe in the impossible and it takes miracles like you to remind us that there is still magic in the world. Can you forgive me?"

Elsa slowly peered out from under the comforter and nodded her head slowly; the ice and cold receded and the room filled with warmth from the reviving fireplace. "Of course I do." She reached up then, arms open for her mother to embrace her tightly. The Queen snuggled her daughter close, her nose buried in the softness of Elsa's hair and inhaled deeply.

"I love you my little Snow Queen."

*****

Elsa pulled the book out from under the blankets and opened it to her favorite page; small fingers gently caressing the embellished paper. His hair was white like the sparkling snow his bare feet stood on and his eyes were a deeper, but more vibrant blue than her own. She wished with all her might that Jack Frost was real and that he would take her away. They could build snowmen together and grand castles made of ice. She wouldn't have to be so careful anymore or afraid to hurt someone. He could teach her everything he knew and show her how to control her powers, but more importantly, she wouldn't be alone.

The fireplace popped and crackled, radiating an uncomfortable heat. It bothered her when her room was kept warm at night. She preferred the cold; she slept easier that way. With one swipe through the air with her small hand the fire went out; a frost enveloping the once blazing logs.

Elsa snuggled deep into the comfort of her bed, hand resting on the picture of her fairytale friend.

"Goodnight, Jack."