Phil the Yeti had been around for a long, long time.
He was one of the many yeti's that remembered Before North.
Before North, he and the other yeti's had wandered. They had no home, other than mountain emptiness, fleeing from children and adults alike. Nobody had come near- they were too big, too scary. They buyoed the belief in Bigfoot. They had been around from even before the humans, but they had originally liked the humans. Then Pitch had twisted the tales.
They were once loved, but now feared. The tales were of Yeti's attacking and killing humans. They were no longer the helpful creatures. They were the monsters.
Children fled crying, Adults took up arms- The Yeti's fled northwards in slowly dwindling numbers as hunger and starvation took its toll in desert wastelands of snow.
The Yeti's were alone.
North came bursting into their life with the stunning surprise, and flair. He was younger then, taller, darker- fierce and independent. He didn't exactly trust the Yeti's, and they didn't him. The only thing they had in common was the fight against Pitch- and even that had its problems.
North hadn't wanted too. As reluctant as Jack Frost had been, North had laughed at the mere idea- he was a thief, a bandit, all kings knew and feared his name, and they wanted him too fight against Nightmares? Hah! He'd far rather sneak into a tsars palace and steal their most prized possession.
But the Man in the Moon had been insistent- He saw what others didn't. North had good hands with which he created the most marvelous things with, he had a quick mind for magic, and he loved children. If there was ever a child that was hungry or cold in his eyesight, North would discreetly slip them something. He would never admit it- but he would.
The yeti's found that out in their own war against Pitch, as North earned their trust. His quick thinking and building skills soon created new, better weapons out of moonbeams and star dust. He organized them, kept them from wandering off or being killed by fearlings, and gathered them underneath his banner like he would his bandits. Except... he was drifting further away from the men he once led, and they were acting- reacting.
The Yeti's hadn't been there when one of the former men had stabbed North through the back. They hadn't been there when nearby children found him. They hadn't been there when Pitch had attacked- they had come to answer his call to protect the children, and found him dead.
(None of those bandits escaped alive, not with angry yeti's searching for them in revenge. being that lived more lifetimes then they ever had and were determined to destroy them.)
Petrov, North's most loyal companion and horse, waited by North's body as it cooled, froze in the wintery wastelands of his home. Night fell and the moon came up. The Yeti's were on the verge of loosing, circled around the children, holding the weapons North had created for them. They had expected to die, trying to protect what North had asked them to protect.
When the man, or spirit now, came charging over the hill bringing with him a giant djinn he had built with his own two hands, the Yeti's could only watch. Pitch had fled that battle, cursing bitterly and screaming revenge, destroying the djinn that North had brought with him.
Phil had expected North to turn them out on their ear. He had expected to be condemned forever more to wandering the wilderness, with no destination. None of them expected anything different. Why should they? They had failed.
They failed at protecting North, protecting the children, protecting what North had made.
But even as the sun rose slowly across the battlefield, shooing off the last of the nightmares, North had offered them a second chance. A chance, that considering his personality at the time, really shouldn't of happened but did. A miracle of wonder.
He told them about his plans to build a toy factory, and give it to the good children. How the djinn that was destroyed had actually been what was supposed to help him. How he needed workers.
All of the yeti's had volunteered in a heartbeat. They might not of been able to keep North the Human alive, but they could at least keep North the Spirit from being killed or taken over by a unfriendly spirit.
North didn't sleep without his weapons at his side. North had a scar in the shape of sharp teeth on his side. North was hunting down the spirit that had stolen from the small factory, with eyes full of fire.
Phil lay in bed, bitterly cursing his wounds that kept him from following his leader.
He didn't know where the spirit had slipped in from- Phil had just been working his shift at the toy creation, when a spirit had slipped in through the door. She hadn't even pretended to be there for anything- she simply stole every toy in her eyesight, and then took off into the wintery wilderness leaving behind injured Yeti's.
The yeti sighed as he adjusted painfully against the mattress, eyes closed.
This was the fifth time that a spirit had slipped in, and this was the fifth time that there had not only been a ruckus, but injured people/spirits/creatures. At the very least this time it had been him instead of North. North got attacked far too often for the yeti's peace of mind.
Many spirits hated the newbie, hated what he stood for, hated that already Children were believing in him, hated that he existed in the first place. They hated- and acted.
But... Phil's eyes fluttered shut, just for a moment, he promised himself.
When he opened them again, North was standing at his bedside, covered in blood and smiling. His smile grew a little wider as he saw Phil was awake. One blood drenched hand clapped the Yeti on the shoulder, as North laughed from his belly. "Ah, good! You awake! Good, good. I retrieved all presents, yes. And taught a lesson to bad spirits." The new spirit turned away, "Rest now, and recover!"
North vanished off to who knew where.
Phil closed his eyes to the bitter taste of failure.
The workshop expanded. Elves appeared, and North couldn't help but allow them in. He knew them from before the Yeti's, knew what they liked, what they could and couldn't do. Nobody complained about the elves to him, choosing to learn how to work around the elves.
A yeti knew what it was like to have no home.
Petrov passed away, and North overcompensated with eight reindeer to pull his ever changing sled. The reindeer listened to none but North, but the Yeti's figured that was normal. Who wouldn't listen to North? If they were not willing to listen to North- they were no ally. The elves, while underfoot, were allies. The Guardians were allies as they listened to North. Not that it mattered much to the yeti's. All that mattered was North.
Phil started on the guarding shifts- he was one of the few who actually wanted to be guarding the doors. It had the most straight-out suicidal attacks, even though North was one of the stronger spirits.
Of course, nobody told North of the many attempts to break in, the attempts to steal the presents. Nobody told North of the scars hidden beneath fluffy fur, or of aching wounds that never quite went away.
North had his own share after all, and he gave them their home, a job to do, and children to protect. The younger yeti's didn't understand why it was such a big deal to the older ones, didn't understand what it was like to wander thousands of years among mountains starving and hated- they just knew that North was Leader. So they too took up arms against anything that could harm North, and the elder taught the younger the stories and traditions.
Retribution was swift. It would be bloody when harm was brought upon either North or presents.
That was why Phil chased away the white-haired teen that appeared at the shop without ever telling North. It was just another person looking to either steal or attack. That's all they ever came for.
North still slept with his weapons nearby.
Phil accepted that it was quite probably never going to change, that the Spirit was never going to trust enough to leave himself unguarded during sleep. That he was too attuned to his life of before to allow himself that trust. And Sandman didn't count.
North would never quite trust anyone to guard him while he slept, but he could trust people to guard his back when he went to fight. The Guardians, he trusted with his life. The yeti's- they trusted that North knew what he was doing.
Phil didn't like the white-haired spirit that had attempted to break in for two-hundred years. But if North was willing to accept him, then the Yeti's would be willing to let him stay.
Their allegiance, first and last of all, was to North.
~fini~