Hey guys! It's been forever since I made a fanfic, but I couldn't help but jump on the Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons bandwagon, but instead the so very popular Jack x Rapunzel or Hiccup x Merida, I decided for something different. I like the canon couples of Eugene x Rapunzel and Hiccup x Astrid, and while I also love Frostbite (Jack x Tooth) I felt that they should be left as friends (as least in my story). I decided to go for Jack x Merida, because if somehow all those fandoms really did get together, I think Jack and Merida would somehow find each other. I hope everyone likes it! :D

"You could still join me, you know?" Pitch questioned his voice barely above a whisper. Jack furrowed his brows, clenched his teeth, and gripped his staff in frustration, causing frost to cover the length of it.

Whipping his head around to glare at Pitch, Jack shouted, "Why would I ever want to be with you?! I will never join you." He pointed his staff at the Boogeyman, readying a blast of ice and wind to shoot at the Nightmare King, but stopped when he noticed Pitch's expression.

There was no malice, anger, or greed on his face, but pain. Raw pain and sorrow swam in Pitch's golden eyes, his mouth slightly agape, and he swayed back and forth like he might topple over at smallest touch. Jack's own ocean-colored orbs widened, because he realized those feelings were reflected in his own eyes. He would never admit it, but it was true.

"You would want to be with me because I understand what it's like not to be believed in. I know how it feels to be cast out, forgotten, ignored. I understand, Jack," Pitch sighed, his eyes darkening with sorrow. "I also understand that is not what you want."

Jack lowered his staff as Pitch turned and began strolling away. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized that he wanted to run after Pitch, to tell him "yes, I'll join you," because then, maybe, he would belong somewhere. Pitch was the only one who truly understood him, even though the Guardians cared, they didn't know him. Not really. A low growl scratched at his throat and he clutched his staff, shaking his head in frustration and disbelief. Why am I thinking like this? I would never join Pitch! He's the Boogeyman, Jack thought. He inhaled deeply to call the wind to him so he could leave when Pitch's voice rang in his ears. He looked up.

"You could join me because we're the same," Pitch turned his head slightly to offer Jack a sorrowful smile, and then continued to stroll away.

"We've always been the same, Jack."

Jack sat up; his ever-present blue hoodie clung to his sweat-drenched skin. After peeling the wet clothing over his head, Jack noticed that for the first time since becoming a Guardian, he was much too hot. The room North had built him at Santoff Claussen was kept at a permanent freezing temperature, but Jack always felt guilty when visitors could only stay a short while because of it. It was true, he liked being alone, and he often left the room, to instead venture to his many old places of rest and solitude. Yet, he always came back, much to the Guardian's delight. But now, even that constant temperature didn't seem enough the cool the winter spirit down. So Jack drew back the many blankets and pelts that North insisted on Jack sleeping with, and placed his bare feet on the floor.

Relief instantly flooded him, but it's not enough, Jack thought, so he opened a window, the refreshing, winter air blowing into the room.

"Why?" Jack wondered, as he fetched his staff from beside his bed and leaned on it. "Why now? Why do I still dream about…him?"

"You can't kill fear, Jack."

"Stop it," Jack whispered, even though he knew the voice was only in his head. It was like it was right in his ear. He could almost feel Pitch standing behind him, an evil smile on his lips. Jack shook his head. It wasn't real. Yet, it had been two years since he became a Guardian, two years since Pitch was defeated, and nightmares still plagued him.

Jack closed his eyes, inhaled slowly, and listened to the light, rustling of the wind. In the quiet he heard the padding of soft, rapid, footsteps down the hall, coming towards his room. It wasn't North, the steps we're too quiet. It wasn't Bunny; the steps weren't joined by his annoying Australian accent. It wasn't Tooth or Sandy, because there was no fluttering of wings or shifting of sand. It wasn't any of the Guardians.

Who is it? Jack thought. Maybe it was one of his friends that he had met in the last year. Rapunzel was giddy, and light on her feet, but it wasn't her, because there were no bursts of laughter accompanying the footsteps. It wasn't her fiancé, Eugene, because his steps were heavy because of his boots, and these steps were too soft. Maybe it was Hiccup, but Jack knew it wasn't him, because there was no thud of where his prosthetic landed. Astrid, Hiccup's girlfriend, was always with Hiccup, and didn't have any reason to visit Jack by herself, so he knew it wasn't her.

That only left one option.

Jack glanced at the door just as it opened slightly; revealing wild curls of fire that was Merida's hair. He sighed. Although he loved his new friends, he was grateful it wasn't Hiccup, with his awkward stumbling of words. He was thankful that it wasn't Rapunzel, whose ramblings of happiness could last what seemed like hours, and were as boring as one of North's meetings. And even though Jack and Merida had a similar relationship to Jack and Bunny, with their many disagreements and fights, he felt he connected most with the Scottish girl. Maybe it was because of those fights that he connected with her the most, or maybe it was because she was a free-spirited as he was, and that she was the only one who took the time to understand him, to care about him.

"Jack?" Merida asked, fully entering the room and shutting the door. "Are ya alright? North said ya were sleeping, but it's not very late at night. Are ya sick?"

Jack fumbled with the window, shut it, and flopped onto the corner of his bed, clutching his staff. "I-I'm fine. I just had a nightmare," Jack stammered. "I'm fine."

"Ya don't look fine," Merida replied, lying down next to Jack, her red curls splaying out behind her like a fiery halo.

The Frost Prince gripped his staff, and glanced at Merida, blue eyes meeting green. He gave a humorless laugh. "Why is that?" he wondered.

"Because yer cryin'," Merida whispered. Jack flinched, as Merida placed her hand on his cheek. Wiping away some of the moisture with her thumb, she offered a small smile.

A light pink blush spread across Jack's face. "I didn't realize I was," he mumbled. He resisted the urge to turn away, to break their gaze, to rid himself of her touch. Her hand was on his cheek, and it felt like it was on fire, like a blue flame was etching into his skin. It surprised him that he didn't turn away, and it surprised him that her touch didn't hurt him, in fact, it was kind of nice.

Jack closed his eyes, no longer looking at her, only feeling her hand on his skin, her fingers tracing the streaks of tears that had slid down his face. With her touch, he felt the closest to normal temperature since he had become a Guardian, he almost felt human. He felt alive. He felt real. He felt believed in.

"Your greatest fear is that no one will ever believe in you."

He wiped his hand across his face, ridding his face of the remnants of tears, and forced himself not to brush his hand against Merida's, to feel her warmth spread through him. He blinked, opened his eyes, and looked at Merida. Her cheeks flashed red; she dropped her eyes, and slipped her hand away from his face. Jack had to clench his teeth as to not whine or cry out now that her touch – her fire – had left him. He was used to the cold, but since her warmth was gone, he suddenly felt uncomfortable with himself. It was strange.

Shaking off her shyness, Merida glanced at Jack and asked, "Do ya want ta talk about it? Yer nightmare?"

Jack was quiet, still trying to come to terms with the loss of her fire in his skin. Merida took his silence as the answer of "no, I don't want to talk about it," and moved to leave. Jack sat up, and lightly brushed his fingers against her arm. That was all he could do. She could touch him – his face, his hand, his arm – but he couldn't touch her, because he wasn't that brave. Not yet. She turned to look at him. He wasn't okay with talking about it, but she had told him her stories of woe about her mom, and her yearning for freedom. He had heard her pains, her fears, so he realized it was only fair to tell her his.

"I don't want to," Jack admitted, and Merida visually shrank back, thinking that she had upset him, "but I will," he finished. "I will tell you because I know you'll listen," he smiled, and slowly spread his fingers out to fully touch her arm.

Merida nodded. "I'll listen to ya, and I won't tell a soul."

Jack suppressed a laugh at her willingness to keep his nightmare a secret. As he began to take his hand away, Merida grabbed it, lacing their fingers together.

"I know it sounds silly," she paused, and squeezed his hand in earnestness, "but I really won't tell anyone," Merida confirmed.

Smiling, Jack pulled his hand away. "I know." He rested his hand on his staff and resisted the notion of clutching it to his chest like some kind of safety blanket. Her fire was there again, spreading from his hand, up his arm, and across his chest. He blinked rapidly, and swallowed, suddenly nervous. He glanced at Merida.

"Go on," she encouraged, nodding her head.

"Don't be afraid, Jack." "Afraid? I'm not afraid of you." "Maybe not, but you are afraid of something."

"Well," Jack paused, and licked his lips, "it was – you remember Pitch?"

Merida turned her head to look at him, causing some of her curls to fall onto her face. She nodded, and pushed the hair out of her eyes.

"I dreamed – I had a nightmare," Jack corrected, "about him and it – it scared me."

Merida laughed softly, and shook her head at the ridiculousness of his statement. "Scared Jack Frost? What could possibly scare ya?" she wondered.

"It was what he said," Jack commented, his voice dropped and he shifted his gaze, not wanting to look at her, not wanting to look at anything. He didn't want her to see the fear painted on his face. He clutched his staff, his nails digging into the wood.

"What did he say?" Merida asked, her own voice lowered to almost a whisper, as if she was unsure to actually ask the question. She didn't want to upset him.

"He said we're the same, and that we've always been the same."

"All those years in the shadows I thought, 'no one else knows that this feels like,' and now I see I was wrong."

"Why did that scare ya?" Merida wondered.

Jack couldn't meet Merida's gaze, but he replied anyway. His face contorted in shame as scenes from his nightmare, scenes from his memories flashed before his eyes. His voice came out hoarse and so impossibly quiet that Merida had to strain to hear it.

"It didn't scare me that Pitch is the same as me," Jack paused, finally meeting Merida's eyes.

His eyes widened as he finished his thought, his voice grew louder as he realized the truth and the meaning behind his statement.

"What scared me is that I am the same as Pitch."

Merida moved to speak, but Jack cut her off. He gripped his staff hard, and pain and panic seized him. He began to shake and his hands trembled. It was like the aftershock of a tsunami, wave after wave crashed over him. He was drowning. He couldn't breathe.

"I-I mean what if it's true? Am I really like Pitch Black? Am I the same as him? Someone so dark, so dark-" Jack rambled, his voice getting lower and lower as he forgot about Merida. He forgot about himself. All he could think about, all he could see were those golden eyes, filled with the same sorrow and shame that were in his own. Those golden eyes… They were the same…

"What goes together better than cold and dark?"

"No!" Merida shouted, pulling Jack out of his nightmare, his memories, and his fears. She sat up and pulled Jack up with her and shook him a little.

"Don't ye know who yer are?" she asked. "Yer Jack Frost! Yer not Pitch Black, yer not the same as him, and ya never will be."

"Never?" Jack wondered.

"Never," Merida replied.

Before Jack could think, Merida had her arms around him, in a tight embrace.

Her voice was quieter, softer, as she whispered in his ear. "Yer not the same as Pitch. I don't like Pitch. But I like you."

Jack stiffened.

"I may not be ready for marriage, and it would be kinda strange to being askin' for a weddin' to someone my parents can't see, but I like you. I like you a lot, Jack."

Jack's hands were shaking, and as Merida began to pull away, Jack did the only thing he could think of: he hugged her back. He was hesitant at first, but as he got used to her fire and she got used to his ice, her held her tighter. He held her like he never wanted to let her go.

He bit his lip and inhaled deeply, and then he whispered in her ear, "I like you too, Merida."

Merida began to pull away again, and Jack let her go. They both smiled and laughed softly at each other's reddened cheeks. Merida blushed deeper and scurried off the bed and headed to the door. She opened it and began to walk out, but paused and turned around.

Jack looked at her and smiled. "Thank you," he stated, knowing that he didn't have to elaborate further.

Merida smiled. "Yer welcome, Jack," she replied and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Jack placed his staff on the floor beside his bed and fell back into the blankets and pillows. It was like the aftershock of a tsunami, her hand on his cheek, her voice in his ear, her arms around him, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep that night. Not because of any nightmares, though. He wouldn't be able to sleep because of a free-spirited girl who listened, who cared, who liked him.