Father Winter, Snow Miser, Mr. Ten Below -- a lot of names, don't you think? I prefer Jack. Jack Frost. It's the one the Man in the Moon gave me. He also gave me purpose, so I think I'll trust his judgement.
☢- The apocalypse has broken out and your character is rescued by my character
{he’s still for a moment, panting harshly and recovering from the shock of having a clicker inches away from his face. but they can’t stay there long, and he has no choice but to accept the stranger’s help if he wants to make it out of the city with his little sister.}
♚- My character is a revolutionary that has now been captured by the king/ queen, your character
“You’re the Ice Queen? Nuh-uh. I don’t believe it.”
{he grunts as the tip of a sword is jabbed painfully into his back, luckily catching on the leather rather than impaling him. he’s not quite sure if that was the intention or not. still, he keeps a crooked smirk even when facing royalty, one that would be charming under normal circumstances but charming is not what he’s going for.}
Elsa’s brows creased in confusion as he spoke. Her stomach seemed to rumble as if it had heard what Jack said, and she looked away, embarrassed. She hadn’t realized it was noticeable. Just when was the last time she ate?
“Home?“ The young woman’s thoughts were interrupted with the simple sound of one word. Home. But there was none, anymore. "Home is… it’s gone. I… I’m a prisoner of war. My home has been destroyed.” She tried desperately to keep from thinking of her family; of her mother and father, and her younger sister - all dead. Tears built up in her eyes despite her best efforts. “I’m the only one left.” Her voice cracked, but she held back the tears, refusing to let them fall.
Blinking them away, Elsa turned her gaze up to him once more. “You were?” Once again, she was perplexed, unsure what he could possibly mean.
Jack respectfully averted his eyes downwards, gnawing on his lip as he tries to figure out what to say. It’s not like he’s ever been in this situation before anyways; it’s usually the others who handle speaking with the slaves they free. Something about her had caught his eye though, and he was the one who requested she be helped, but what was he supposed to say now? It’s not like he even remembered his own home.
"We’ll take you wherever you want to go, then,” he told her finally, holding onto the end of her chain with only one hand as the other came up to rub uncomfortably at his neck. “Or you could stay here with us. Who knows? You might like it here.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and noticed the tears about to fall, but she seemed to compose herself before he could say anything further.
“I was,” Jack confirmed, nodding his head slightly as he pushed through the crowd of people gathered near the more ethical market stalls. “Banged my head real bad or something, and woke up on the back of a slaver’s horse. It was a nightmare. But North – that big guy you saw call the final bid – he and his friends took me in. I didn’t really have anywhere to go, so I stayed with them.” He seemed matter of fact about the entire thing as if he’s told the story many, many times, but his smile doesn’t get less sad each time he does.
though he is careful, she does not trust the melting ice; she, of all, know just how quickly cracks can form. thus, her hand outstretches and her magic is tapped into, enough to solidify the ice as she walks, without the danger of accidentally striking him.
’slowly—- very, slowly. good; now come forward, you’re almost there.’
{a warning is on the tip of his tongue as she comes closer. after all, why should she put herself in danger for a little peasant trickster? but the ice only thickens beneath her step, almost by magic, and jack instinctively takes a step back.}
Meridan pushed forth several expensive looking bear pelts as well as a small pouch of gold, following the gesture by picking up the slight being and settling him onto his horse. He slipped on and rode out of the clearing, sighing. "Yeh dunnae belong there, lad. Ah'm taken yeh back ta where'er et es yeh belong, frostling."
Your muse sees mine being sold in a brutal slave market.
Jack was utterly silent the entire time. No wisecracking joke, arrogant taunt, or undefeated laugh escaped from his lips anymore, and he only watched as the pelts and gold were handed over in exchange for him. The man looked alright, he supposed. It could’ve been worse – a lot worse. He’d seen some of the nobles that had bought the others and he was possibly the luckiest one in the bunch if he was going home with him. He was quiet all the way through being led down and even lifted onto the man’s horse, only choosing to speak when they were far away from the crowds.
“I’m not worth that, y'know. Maybe…half that pouch, and no pelts. I broke china on my very first day.”
Elsa’s eyes widened as she was sold off, beginning to tremble slightly as she was moved towards her new owner. But she didn’t expect to be handed over to a young man, who didn’t look at her like an object, instead, like another human being. His touch was gentle, but still she flinched away slightly with a wince. “I was kidnapped,” she whispered, feeling a lump form in her throat. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked, terrified.
“What I’m going to do with you? Well,” Jack began, pretending to think even as he led her away from the crowds. He held the end of the chain loosely and was careful to slow down when needed instead of accidentally tugging on it. “I was thinking a hot meal first. You looked starved. Then maybe we could take you home if you’re feeling up for it?” He offered her another crooked grin, nearly-white hair messily falling in his face when he tilted his head. “Don’t worry. I was just like you a couple years ago.”
