Chapter 50

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Jack's POV
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Don't get me wrong. I love a good snowball fight. And I mean a good, intense snowball fight. One where not one person isn't out of breath and covered in snow, laughing and having the time of their lives.

However, there's a point where even I don't enjoy a fight between ice anymore. It's when the snowball fight goes past that point.

In this case, that point for me is when Elsa, my currently controlled wife, Queen of Arendelle, decides to turn her ice against me. And not just in a friendly, snowball fight way. More like in a murderous rage kind of way.

I'm strong with my own ice, don't get me wrong. Being the Spirit of Winter means you have strength when it comes to this category. However, much of that power comes from my staff, the one anchor I️ have to my past life as a mortal. While I'm not completely powerless without it, I️ am very limited. On top of that, there's still the injury in my side, seeping black sand. While I️ was able to freeze it somewhat to try and keep it from opening further, moving quickly and smoothly still doesn't come comfortably.

In short, at this point, if I️ don't get some help soon, or if I️ can't fix my staff in time, I'm screwed.

I duck quickly behind a fountain as Elsa's ice shatters the ground I just vacated. I wince at the sight, relief sparking through my chest briefly.

And when I say briefly, I mean briefly. In the next moment, I'm diving out from behind the fountain I'd just taken refuge behind. I cover my head as the fountain just about explodes behind me, debris cascading down around me. Pitch laughs somewhere above me. My hands immediately clench, my face raising in a glare towards him. He only smirks in return, his smug expression spread hideously across his features.

Yea, well, then he better be ready for a world of disappointment.

Despite how much I would rather fly up to Pitch and punch that cocky smirk off of his face, I have a more pressing matter to attend to.

I scramble to my feet, turning and facing Elsa as she approaches me, her arms raised and her golden gaze narrowed. My throat tightens. I never thought I'd ever see her directing such an expression towards me.

I never thought that I'd have to deal with the pain that would come from it.

"Elsa..." I begin, tentatively broaching the waters of the severity of her current state. She could easily obliterate me right now. I don't have my staff. I don't have the Guardians. I'm alone, and I'm injured.

But I'm done running. I'm done giving Pitch that satisfaction.

I'm done being afraid.

"Elsa." I repeat her name, this time with more strength and confidence. She slows, coming to a stop. Her arms stay raised however, and my eyes take turns warily watching them and meeting her unusual golden gaze. I stare as deep into them as I can, pleading with her with only my eyes to snap out of it. Telling her that I need her to be strong, just for a little while. That, if she can't pull herself out of this, I'll find a way. Because I'm not going to lose her again. Not after everything.

"You're stronger than this," I continue, my eyes flashing quickly to my staff, lying broken only a few feet away.

If I can just get there fast enough that she can't react, then maybe...

Subtly, I shift my feet ever so slightly. I gauge the distance from me to my staff, try to decide whether I'll have the strength to get there in one dive. I probably do. But that's not my greatest threat here.

I return my attention back to Elsa. Yea, the distance of a dive to my staff is definitely not my greatest threat.

I swallow thickly. What can I say? What can I possibly do to make her snap out of it?

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