The Snow Queen

An Unwelcome Engagement

The door of his home crashed open and Jack was so out of breath that he couldn't even give any warning to his parents that had been waiting in the foyer.

Emily's eyes widened. "What happened to you?" He was absolutely drenched in snow, his hair even wilder from the gust of wind, his mantle draped crookedly off his body. She walked up and started pounding the snow off of him. "You were gone so long, and where's the bucket?" Jack lifted his hand as if to show her, but only then did he notice it wasn't with him.

He gulped the air, "I saw... there was..." He couldn't stop grinning. He could feel his pulse in his throat. Even Nicholas, who was stoking the fire, was baffled.

Emily moved his bangs out of the way and felt his forehead. "Well, you're not running a fever."

He pushed her hand away. "I'm fine."

"Well look, take what water we've got and have a hot bath. You'll freeze to death!"

"We were supposed to have enough to make soup tonight. You couldn't even do a simple task?" Nicholas chided. Jack started to lose his cheerful demeanor when he realized how stupid he'd been to think they'd ever believe his words.

"I'll run back out and get it." He tried to reach for the door, but Emily stopped him.

"No. I can see you shivering. Go on. The last thing we need is for you to get hypothermia." She pushed him towards the hallway. He wasn't shivering. It was pure adrenaline. And he wouldn't stop shaking, not even as he scrubbed his skin bright pink and rid himself of the cold of the outside. Soon the feeling of guilt for depriving his family of extra water passed. He'd wake up early and retrieve the bucket, he decided. That was if he slept at all.

He spent the rest of the evening in relative quietness, helping with the laundry to make up for his prior failure. "Make sure Mary's not up too late." Emily requested. That wouldn't be too difficult. The worst Mary could do was stay up late reading, which really wasn't a crime. Jack caught her doing just that when he poked his head into her room on his way to his home.

"Good night, Sis." He stressed each word to clue her in that their mother would be checking.

"Good night." She replied sarcastically, showing she didn't care.

"Whatcha reading?"

"My German book." She answered, deep in the throes of one of the stories. "The one I got for Yule last year."

Jack couldn't help but peer over to see what she was so invested in. "Little Snow White? Doesn't a little kid die in that one?"

"She doesn't die! The dwarves drop her casket and the apple that was in her throat falls out, so the Prince marries her! Then the evil Queen has to dance in burning hot shoes until she dies."

"...Ah, wholesome."

Mary then closed the book; she'd read it so many times that she wanted something new. "Jack, will you make up a story?"

He winced, "Um... I don't think you want me to."

"Yes, I do! You used to tell really good ones all the time." She hugged her arms around him. "Please?" Now how was he supposed to say no to that?

"Okay, but it'll have to be a quick one." He sat with her while she got snug in her blanket. "Uh... how do these start...?" He wracked his brain trying to think of anything decent. She was easy to impress when she was four or five, but he presumed Mary didn't care what he told her, so long as it was coming from him. Though awkward at first, he became more confident as he narrated in a soft voice, "A long, long time ago, in a cold, dark, but very gentle place there was a mysterious flower on the top of a mountain that only bloomed during the winter."