4Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or Rise of the Guardians
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From a cold, hard bench, Elson sits and watches as a small boy with pale blond hair skates unsteadily on the lake's ice. The child is an uncontrollable but well-meaning bundle of energy, still so young in years that it almost makes Elson weep to think of it. He had offered to help the little one out, but the boy was stubborn and so he had simply resigned himself to sitting on the sideline, making sure nothing terrible happened.
So much has changed, so much done during this handful of decades since Elson had escaped from his own prison, that he's afraid none of it is true. That he'll wake up one day still in a hollow palace. But every morning, he rises with the sun and discovers again that this is true, that this is real.
He feels a familiar, thrilling brush against his magic and he knows.
"It's been a long time," he says without turning around, without even looking away from his son.
"What are you doing here?"
It's not as hostile as he expected it to be. Interestingly, her voice is … tired. Resigned. Curious, he turns around and locks eyes with Jack Frost. She looks older, more world-weary – worn down, almost.
"You look awful," he remarks lightly before adding, "Would you like to sit down?"
She hesitates, her emotions conflicting in her eyes, before she floats towards Elson in a manner that seems almost … ghostlike. Not that he's seen ghosts – not actual apparitions, anyway – but her awkwardly slumped stature and flight reminds him of them.
For long while, neither of them say anything, simply watching the children scream and play atop the ice. Finally, Elson's son turns back to him and, unaware of the newly arrived winter spirit, breathlessly waves to his father.
Elson smiles and waves back.
"So you don't hate children now," Jack says with a raised eyebrow. There's a question in it, one that he can't help but grin at.
"No." He pauses. "Not this one, anyway."
"Oh?"
"He's mine," Elson admits, feeling sheepish and absurdly proud at the same time.
Jack blinks. "Ah."
The silence becomes awkward then, and Elson elaborates, "He turns six in two months."
"That's … nice."
He knows she's thinking of Henrik, still frozen in the ice palace. Knows, because talking with her now reminds him of the child, too. Guilt isn't pleasant but it is a large part of being human, and though he winces, he does not push down the emotion.
He want to apologize, to tell Jack he's sorry and really mean it this time. But a lump forms in his throat and he can't gather the right words.
She leans back on the bench, unaware of his quite struggle. "So, you're married."
Elson glances at her bemusedly, unsure if he should feel affronted by the implication. "Of course." He hesitates for another moment before saying, "Her name is Maggie. We met at a fair. She's a lovely girl, lively." Like you, he almost adds but catches himself just in time. Somehow, the two little words seem ominous put together in this conversation.
"And you had a son."
"There's another on the way."
"Congratulations."
And somehow, despite how dead on her feet Jack looks, she seems sincere. Even somewhat cheered by the news, and he takes heart in it. A tension he had no idea was there falls off his shoulders.
Odd – he never realized how much he wanted her to accept the changes in his life.
He remembers the little moments he and Jack had shared before, the promises made. It strikes him as ironic that for all his mania in keeping Jack before – and his hatred of everything else – he's now the one with a family of his own. Jack, on the other hand … she looks like she's been put through a meat grinder.
"Were you there for the war?" she asks suddenly.
He glances at her, pushing down all the hellish memories that her question stirs up. "Dear one, I even fought in it." He cards a hand through his hair, feeling the uncomfortable weight of her gaze on him. He can't read her emotions like he used to; it's as if a veil has fallen over her normally expressive face.
"You're … full of surprises."
And Elson probably is. If anyone had told him back then that he would one day be part of a happy family, he would have laughed – or blasted the jester with a face full of ice for his poor choice for a joke.
"His name is Jack."
She stares at him.
"You … named your firstborn son … after your old girlfriend?" she asks, almost choking on her own words.
"Well, anything sounds terrible if you say it like that." And yes, Elson did know even back then that it was a ridiculous idea. "But you've always been important to me," he explains earnestly. "Maybe not in the same way anymore – especially not after meeting Maggie – but you are important."
If he hadn't met Jack … would he still be in his ice palace? Passing the days on one project after another?
Elson shivers.
"You've changed," she murmurs, as if to herself. Then, she looked up at him, and, even somewhat dimmed over the course of the years, Elson recognizes the old fire that once drew him in. He'd been addicted to that fire, desperately craving what he lacked. But he has one of his own now, one that Maggie and his son – and soon his newborn – nurtures and keeps alive even in the coldest of winters. "I'm happy for you," she says with a soft, beautiful smile.
"Thank you. And..." He hesitates before finally saying, "I'm sorry. For everything."
She nods once with a thoughtful expression. It's not enough - he doesn't think anything will ever be enough - but it's a start down a better road.
There are a lot of questions between the two of them; Elson particularly wants to know what exactly has happened to Jack for her to look so much older. He's curious as well as hopeful that she, too, might have found a companion of her own, someone who makes life wonderful and worth everything. He wonders how much she still resents him. He also knows the questions that she likely has for him, knows the inevitable end of this small breath of peace that Elson has fought for will come in just a few unbearably short decades. He knows this, accepts that things cannot last forever. And yet he decided that evening he met Maggie, while his wife and children draw breath, he will live. He will live with and for them as best as he can.
And so he sits on the bench with Jack and they watch his son skate on the ice with his friends. There will be time to talk in the future. All the time in the world.
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Author's Note: And that's the last chapter. As far as I've planned, this is pretty much it for Elson's character arc (and yeah, he's still a bit strange; my beta reader found it odd that he would name his son after Jack...). I might make a sequel for this in the future, this time mainly concerning Jack, but for now, I'm going to end the story here.
I apologize for any mistakes that managed to slip through the editing. Feedback is greatly appreciated, and if you spotted some errors, feel free to point them out to me so I can fix them.
Thank you so much for reading 'Once Upon A Time'!
