Frost

Epilogue: Duchess of Winter

Mari paced back and forth in the corridor leading to the closed doors of Father Winter’s great hall. She wore the dress she’d worn when she and Jack had had their own Midwinter Ball a year ago, only this time he’d helped her into it instead of out of it.

He’d handle that part, too, probably. Though it would be well after their daughter settled for the evening.

Her fingers played with the charms on her bracelet, and she smiled absently. Jack wore his own version, gifted to him by Father Winter to allow him to weather the warmth of her house – and her bed – without the necessity of frequent trips to the deck and yard to cool off. More often than not he spent her daylight hours at the workshop, and the evenings with his girls at home. The sight of Jack with their daughter cradled against his chest as he walked a circuit around the living room, talking to her softly in German was rapidly becoming one of her favorite sights.

Strong arms enfolded her from behind and a voice whispered in her ear, “Quarter for your thoughts, my love.”

“Penny, Jokul,” she said with long-suffering patience. He still mixed his metaphors, though she was beginning to suspect he did it on purpose. “It’s a penny for your thoughts.”

“Cheapskate.” He laughed softly, resting his cheek against hers. “Where is our little one?”

“With her Auntie Leanna.” She turned within his hold and pressed her palms against his chest. Her wedding ring caught the light of the torches and candles, allowing her to marvel at the fact that yes, she was indeed married. To a winter pixie.

To Jack Frost.

“Has anyone told you the opening of the ball is to go?” he asked, sliding closer to her as he settled a hand on her waist.

“No,” Mari said. “But I don’t doubt you’re going to inform me right now.”

A wide smile with a mouthful of pointed teeth shouldn’t have been as reassuring as it was. “Correct.” He stepped forward into the opening sequence of a dance they both knew as well as breathing. “Mother Summer and Father Winter will be waiting for us at the center of the hall. Together we will walk to them. I will first hand our little one to Mother Summer, and quietly introduce her. Mother will then hand her to you. You will then present her to Father Winter, who will present her to the winter pixies.” He twirled her slowly. “Father and Mother will then traditionally open the celebration with a dance, and the rest will simply follow suite.”

Her grip tightened on the black brocade waistcoat he wore. “I have to present her to Father Winter?”

“Yes.” Jack darted in and kissed her forehead. “You will do fine. Tell him her full name.”

They heard her before they saw her; Leanna walked calmly down the hallway with a screaming infant in her arms. Mari took her daughter from her sister-in-law, and winced as her cries seemed to increase.

“Daddy it is then,” she murmured, handing her off to Jack.

Jack positioned her against his shoulder; her little feet kicked at his chest though she quieted, her shuddering breaths hot against his neck. “There’s no need to cry, sweetling. There is nothing and no one here who will hurt you.”

Leanna ghosted a kiss over the back of her niece’s head before slipping down the corridor and into the hall. Mari returned the soft smile Jack gave her as the bells began to toll.

He held his daughter protectively with one hand and reached for Mari with the other. She interlaced their fingers, noting the scar on the inside of his wrist was the same bright white as the snowflake on his collarbone.

The winter pixies in their finery lined the edges of the hall, including the second floor balconies than ran around the edge of the room. In the center stood Father Winter and Mother Summer, and Mari felt the blush creep up her neck at being the focal point of attention. Jack squeezed her fingers reassuringly.

Mari curtsied deeply to the pair before her; Jack dipped his head respectfully.

“She is beautiful, Jokul,” Mother Summer said as Jack handed her the infant. “She has your eyes.”

“Her mother’s temperament, I hope,” he said with a sly smile.

“What is her name?”

“Ellienna.”

Mother Summer stiffened. “You – how did you - ?”

“It took a very long time and a lot of research,” Mari said. “We had to go back centuries to find any stories that might have even mentioned your name.”

She looked fondly down at the child in her arms. “You two honor me too much.”

“We pay homage to those who created us,” Jack intoned softly. “There is no such thing as honoring one such as you too much.”

“I adore you both,” she said. She transferred Ellienna to Mari and kissed the human’s forehead.

Mari took a deep, steadying breath, and faced Father Winter. He looked kindly at her, and she crossed the few feet to him, well aware every eye in the room was fixed on the pair of them.

“There is the little one,” he murmured. Ellienna looked tiny and fragile in his huge hands, though Mari knew there would be no one gentler with her than him.

She whispered a name to him, and then stepped back, hands folded in front of her.

“Our family has grown,” he said, voice carrying to the cracks and crannies of the hall. “Our Winter Prince has joined with Marianne Turner in a Celebration of Union, and gifted to the winter pixies a daughter, the first in thousands of years.”

Jack slid his arm around Mari’s waist, fingers digging reassuringly into her hip.

“She will be loved, protected, and cared for, as any child should be.” Father Winter looked down at the infant; Ellienna blinked steadily back at him, reaching for his beard with one tiny hand. He smiled indulgently, and held her up carefully. “She is ours, now and for eternity.”

The hall held its breath.

“Born of the Winter Prince and Princess,” he continued, “I proudly present to you Ellienna Nix Frost, Duchess of Winter.”

Mari smiled proudly as the cheers from the winter pixies shook the very foundations of the hall.