Rated M for Graphic Violence, Character Death and maybe a little smut depends on if you want it.
The first ten(?) or more chapters will be details to her immortal life before the main events, so I will come back to edit the prologue with the chapter title that jumps into the whole Guardian business if you want to skip them but I suggest not to or you will very confused on most things. If you're just looking for Jack, then I suggest waiting a little while or just jumping straight to the chapter he features in when it comes out. If you can find it.
Many folklore characters-what they do, what they look like, their mortal background, etc-are of my own invention and I'll list them at the end of every chapter so you can research them to your leisure. I will try and not use folklore like Yuki-onna that have been used in popular RotG fanfiction just in case I accidentally start something, so they may be mentioned in passing if it's relevant.
There were no Original Characters harmed by Mary-Sueitis in the making of this fanfiction.
Chapter One
December, 1849
The brush of a snowflake on her nose was the first thing she felt.
Her eyes snap open with a jolt of shock, and panic, and terror as a scream lodges itself in the back of her throat. She coughs, gulping down air as it fills her lungs. It was like a craving, like her and-what was her name?-addictions to chocolate.
The crackling, repressed noise that echos around the clearing surprises her for a moment, before she realises it came from her. Her throat is sore, and any sound that comes from her is croaky, like she sang too loud or screamed too high for her voice box to keep up.
She feels a burning pain in her left arm, feels something sticky plastered to her skin, and it takes every ounce of her not to scream again. It is not painful, the pain faded hours ago, but the throbbing kept reminding her that something was wrong with her arm.
With a grunt she pushes herself up with the arm that didn't feel like it had been run over by a dozen horses before being crushed by wheels on a carriage and shakingly stood up on her own two feet. She was scared, the trees which she used to climb and swing from even scared her.
She wrapped her good arm around herself and left the other-her dominant arm, yes, she remembered now-dangling at her side. The soft silk of her cream blouse reminded her of home, and she felt a quiver of calm fill her before everything around her flickers from a wooded, snowy area to a crowded street-
-She stared from her place in her mothers arm, blinking curiously at her father and eight year old sister as they cheered alongside the crowd of people watching their Princess, their future Queen, pass by in her rose gold carriage; "Wave your flag, Alice dear!"-
She blinks. It's gone, disappearing like a light flickering off in the distance.
'Oh my child. I had my eye on you for a long time, but I didn't suspect this to happen.'
She tenses, eyes looking around for the owner of the voice, before she feels a pull. A pull that makes her look up at the night sky and to the moon that she was pretty sure was not supposed to be that bright, or big. The face visible from the moon's surface makes the terror disappear, regardless of the fact that when she was younger it freaked her out a little. She wasn't scared anymore.
"Who are you?" she asks, and for a brief moment she believes that whoever was talking wouldn't be able to hear her, who would be able to hear something that sounded like a whisper in in the wind?
'I am the Man in the Moon.'
She arches a blood covered eyebrow.
"What are you doing in the moon? Your face is outside." for a moment, a small little second, she was certain that she heard him laugh, a quiet tinkling sound like a bell hanging in the doorway of a shop.
'So it seems.' he finally says into the cold night air.
-"Ladies don't wear trousers or throw themselves around like some sort of hooligan," her mother told her sister, although she knew that it was actually for her, currently rolling about the floor as she babbled about soaring through the clouds on the back of a dragon.-
"Do you know what happened?" she asks next.
'Yes, dear child, I do.'
All her memories went by in a blur, rushing by like a train speeding past then...
-"Can I come-you didn't even let me finish-with you? Or are you going out to get my gift for my birthday?! Oh please say it so my dear, golden, sister!" she clasps her arms around her neck, hanging from her. Lucy protests, trying to shake off her sister, lacing her fingers through hers to pry them from her neck but Alice makes her body go limp in response.
Lucy stumbles but luckily for both of them she is strong enough to hold them both up. She has to be, the amount of times she had to carry or pull or hold her weight throughout the years. " I am picking up a gift, yes, with the company of friends."
She lets go and lands on the balls of her feet, blowing up her cheeks and looking down at her sister-only three inches shorter-with a playful huff.
"Fine, I'm more interested in this book anyway." she turns, stomping dramatically back to her window seat and plopping herself down, picking up the book in question; Oliver Twist. "Go, walk about with your friends, giggling about your fiance, stuffing your face with chocolate you could have shared with your adoring little sister. I will stay right here!"
The look of sadness that appears on her sisters face is easily identified as fake, mocking actually, especially since the corners of her mouth kept twitching like she was trying to keep a smile off her face. "Alice..."
Ignoring her amused big sister she opens the book with a flourish to the page she had been on and leans back against the window, placing her hand on her forehead for an added effect. "No, no, you made yourself perfectly clear! Bundle up tightly, Jack Frost visited this morning."
A laugh, then footsteps fading away as her sister leaves her bedroom. She opens one eye and sees her retreating back. "Be careful and come home safe." she says, a smirk on her face as she hears what she has just uttered.
Lucy turns her head and rolls her eyes, a smile on her face that screams 'I love you but do not pretend to be Mother'. "I will!"
Alice shakes her head, chuckling slightly as her sister vanishes from the room. Lucy shouting down the stairs and the front door opening and closing is heard, before it all goes silent. If she listened closely, she could hear the mumbles of the kitchen staff or the shifting of personal objects belonging to her parents and sibling being picked up so the furniture can be cleaned and dusted.
She turns back to her book, ignoring but appreciating her Siamese cat Victoria nuzzling her face against her feet which she had brought up to rest on the window-seat.
Oliver Twist had only been released ten years ago; a classic, a marvellous story of an orphan boy who was born in a workhouse and wanting something more, travelling to London-her home-and ends up tangled with a group of pickpockets. What an adventure!
Oh, she could picture it now, her in Oliver's shoes, running to her future and fighting against the people wanting to stop her. Her face covered in soot, a cap on her head and her bare feet free from confinements as she ran about the streets of London!
She doesn't realise she wasn't even paying attention to the words as she stares at her purring cat. "Can you imagine it, Victoria?" she sneaks a hand between her leg and the windowpane to scratch under her cat's ear. "Good little kitty, you can be my faithful sidekick. Hmm?"
Victoria's purring of content blocked out the noise of her bedroom door opening as her hand travels down to her cat's stomach to rub there. Why would she care who walked in? A servant, a parent, a sister who loved her too much to leave her by herself and ask her to join her and her friends on shoving their mouths with chocolate?
She doesn't have time to scream for help as the bullet pierces her arm and sends her body smashing against the windowpane. Her head smacking against the glass made her feel a little bit dazed, her vision blurring for a few moments.
What was happening?
Her grip on the book tightened out of instinct, the cold feeling of splattered blood that coated the pages seeping into her fingertips. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish as her brain tries to process what was going on before she slumps in the corner of the window-seat, her eyes staring in horror at the three men standing at the door, all holding guns, one man-blonde curly hair, light green eyes, a round face-holding the gun that had fired the first shot. It was still smoking at the barrel.
Her brain reaches up to her body as she opens her mouth again to scream. Mother! Father! Sister! Anyone!
Green eyes widen-round and huge-in absolute terror as the second of the three-another blonde, blue eyes this time, with a slightly more haughty face-takes a turn to fire. It hits her in the chest and the impact lurches her forward, her body falling to the floor below.
The book leaves her hand, clattering to the floor next to her. Victoria is hissing and spitting at the intruders shooting at her mistress, but they don't even pay attention to her pet, instead the last one-the third, she can see him now, greasy ginger hair, wild brown eyes and stumbling, most likely from the alcohol she knew they all had drank-walks towards her to check if she is still alive.
The groan she emits is absolutely primal as a spark travels through her. Adrenaline. The want to jump up, scoop up Victoria and run for her life until she disappeared into the warm December day appears in her mind. She can find Lucy and they can be together as they fled to safety.
She pulls herself onto her hands and knees, the sudden burst of energy fuelling her. Instead of taking one more shot, the butt of the gun is slammed down into the back of her head, sending her crumbling down into the violet floral rug, now turning a rusty dark purple from her blood.
The noises all around her-Victoria hissing and mewing, yelling and screaming from the servants and their murderers, her killers boots as they walk out of the room to hunt down their next victim-all fade away. Her heart which had been beating rapidly against her chest slowing down as she desperately clung to it, trying to pull the thumping back so she can live, hunt down those monsters and have them hang from the neck.
Lucy. Oh no. What if they hadn't got to her? Or, horrifyingly, what if they already had?
Her eyes flutter close. She's so tired. All right, just a quick nap, and then she'll find Lucy and they can go and get justice. I f she was already dead...
Well, at least she would see her again.-
A gasp for air as she staggers back. Her bare feet, stinging pain from the cold biting into the skin, pressing hard into the snow below her. There was not even a body shape from when she had been laid down, the falling snow slowly beginning to cover it up.
Oh god, the dried up blood was hers. The metallic, tangy blood covering her blouse and skirt, which had been a light pink but was now dark red, was her own. Her hand immediately went to her chest, her fingers feeling for the hole that confirmed that what she had remembered had actually happened.
There. A hole ripped into her blouse, dry blood surrounding the ruined fabric. Another hole in the sleeve of her left arm. She knew that her hair on the back of her head was mattered and covered in blood, but a quick feel around her injuries revealed that there were no bullet wounds or a split skull. Her surprise and confusion must have still been on her face as he answers;
'I healed them, closed your wounds so they would not bother you, but they may scar. However, there is a matter of concern regarding your arm. There is no exit wound, the bullet may be still lodged in there. I did not realise when I healed you, I am sorry, I can only do so much.'
The bullet was still in her arm. She lifts it just to make sure, and felt a flash of pain course through to her temple. Yes, definitely still in there. She lets out a small cry of discomfort, clutching her arm to her body, and she knew if the Moon could cringe he would be doing just that.
"I...Why am I still alive?" she asks.
Her saviour (her friend, perhaps?) answers with a hint of pride in his voice. 'You are to be one of the many spirits that roam this Earth.'
"Spirits? As in ghosts?" she can't help but widen her eyes. The voice chuckles.
'Not exactly. You see, there are some spirits that have died and were brought back to contribute to this planet like Cupid or the Leprechaun and some were chosen during their mortal lives to continue living. People like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, who were given the ability to help protect the children of the Earth.'
"They're real? All of them?" she knew it! Someone had to have taken her tooth or left her gifts under the Christmas tree that she had wanted without her parents or sister knowing! It could have been the servants, but why would they collect her tooth and what for? Disgusting, if you ask her.
The smile on the face of the moon really matched his tone of voice as he answered; 'Why of course! Where did you think their holidays and legends came from? Someone must have been telling the truth at some point. But that's not all, Mother Nature and her spirits were also made to help transition the many places of the world into each season. Some are even mundane things like the wind or the trees. Everything and anything.'
"And who will I be?" she asks, surprisingly calm. She was, however, itching to get this over with so she can find Lucy. The sisterly feeling in her gut was telling her that she was alive, she could feel it.
'Just like Cupid is the Spirit of Love and the Leprechaun is the Spirit of Luck, you will be the Spirit of Imagination. Remember, I had my eye on you for quite some time, I know about all the vivid things you come up with. Your mind is whirling with such creativity that I am certain you can share your gift to the children of the world. When they are struggling, help them create what their heart is telling them too, even if they are new little games. Inspire them, and by doing that you will be doing your job. But also, inspire yourself. Keep using your brain to create new things that help you or the immortal friends you make. Anything is possible if you use a little imagination."
"And my name?" she asks. Of course it could just be her birth name, but she doubted the Tooth Fairy's name was actually, well, the Tooth Fairy. Also, it never hurt to ask.
'Alice. Use your mortal surname if you choose, but your name is just Alice, the Spirit of Imagination. Now, go. Go and spread creativity across the globe, my child.' and just like that, the voice faded away, leaving her standing in a snowy clearing, her mind whirling with all the information she had just received.
She was dead and was now continuing to live? How long will she live for? Will she ever see Lucy-
Oh no, Lucy!
She doesn't recognise where she has, there were so many trees and it was so dark, but damn if that is going to stop her from getting home.
Anything direction was fine, so arm close to her chest she ran, stumbling to and fro, trying to find something familiar until her feet began to slowly rise from the ground. Like a baby bird trying to escape it's nest, she flew up into the air shakingly, wobbling about as she tried to get her bearings. She could fly. She could fly!
'Hello...' something whispers and she steadies herself to listen. The wind was blowing all around her, but the voice was as clear as day. "Hello, little spirit?"
"Moon, is that you?" she glances up at the Moon, but it's not as big or bright anymore. Then who-?
'You can...hear me.' she nods, hoping that the voice also had eyes, and the wind responded with a howl of excitement that nearly flung her away. 'I apologise! No spirit has ever been able to hear me in centuries. Hello!'
"Hello...? I'm sorry, who are you?" she was still trying to wrap her head around everything. First she dies, then she is brought back to life as a spirit, the moon is actually a man and now the wind can speak?
'I am the North wind that guides the spirits that possess flight through Winter, but the Grecian people called me Boreas.' the wind-no, Boreas-calmed down enough so she could float, although wobbling to and fro. 'I will show you how to properly guide yourself, if you prefer.'
"Yes please! I need to get to London to find my sister! To see if she's all right!" she didn't even realise she was shouting, but Boreas didn't seem to care, instead the wind slowly enveloped her like a warm blanket.
'Then that shall be done. All you have to do is trust me, trust that I will not let you fall. Then, all you need to do is drop, go limp. I will do the rest.'
A quick glimpse of her mind tells her not to do what he says and that she would certainly fall to her death, but she was brought back to life after being executed, so what else had she too lose?
She took a deep breathe, closed her eyes and fell, plummeting to the ground. The wind chased after and around her, and just before she could hit the ground the wind manoeuvred her that she arched and was sent back up into the air. "Whoa!" her eyes snapped open.
'Legs together always when you are in the air unless you are jumping up from the ground or making yourself fly faster. Your arms will always remain at your side, unless you are turning yourself up, down, left or right. They are your reigns while you are in the air. My brothers and I can't do everything for you, we can only do so much.'
There it was again; I can only do so much.
"Okay." legs clasped together, arms against her sides, she let the wind guide her to the beaming lights in the distance. She knew it was London instantly, the smoke piling from the workhouses and factories only confirmed her whereabouts. "To London?"
"To London!" a fierce gust of wind sent her flying towards the British capital. She couldn't believe it, how tiny and ant-like everything was, a giggle escaped her and from then on she continued to laugh, ignoring the fact her hair whipped against her cheeks from time to time.
She couldn't allow herself to forget what she was doing, but she couldn't help but enjoy herself. Who could say they had ever flied before? No one could, that's who! Except for other spirits, but this was her moment, not let them be apart of it just yet.
"There, there! My home!" she pointed to a small manor located in Westminster, surrounded by a fence covered in vines that matched most of the white, brick house. She made her descent, a little choppy considering she nearly tripped into one of the rose bushes located at the front of the house, but a decent enough landing nonetheless.
Her home was empty, and dark. Boreas had waited outside, disregarding the opened door that could have easily allowed the wind to move into the house and look around for itself, so she could look about without it hovering over her shoulder. She needed to be alone, to come to terms with what happened, because he certainly never would.
She didn't even stop to think of what could be in there as she ran up the pathway and the stairs, throwing the door to her home open, practically skipping in, missing the blood stained floors and walls.
She ran up the stairs and headed for the room belonging to her sister; "Lucy!"
It was ransacked, clothes and items thrown about, furniture overturned, possessions taken, but there was no sign of her. The feeling of dread she had not felt at all during the last few hours crept up her body, crawling slowly to encase every bit of her in fear.
"No...no..." she mumbled and pivoted, running down the hall to the opened door belonging to her parents bedroom. Also empty, and also destroyed. Some of her mother's jewellery was gone, and most of her father's expensive items, the photo-frames holding the pictures of her childhood were smashed and thrown about, but some were still salvageable, like the one of her and her sister on the balcony, standing next to each other with huge grins on their faces. It had been taken only a few months prior.
She slipped it out of the blue photo-frame, folded it up and placed it into her blouse pocket over her heart, which thankfully was not where the second bullet had hit her. With one last bit of hope, she ran out and into her own room.
Furniture overturned, clothes and every piece of fabric ripped to pieces, jewellery snatched...
It was dark and cold.
"Mother?"
The moon was beaming moonlight through the window and into her room, giving it a little light.
"Father?"
She began to shake, eyes darting around the room for anything, anyone, to hold her and tell her everything was going to be fine.
"Lucy?"
The dried up pool of blood on the floor in front of the window-seat. A sob, as she turned and fled.
Oliver Twist still laid on the floor of the room darkened by the night sky.
Boreas - the Grecian God of the North Wind associated with Winter. Zephyr and Notos are his brothers in this-although not biologically-and will also appear. Eurus, the Eastern wind, will not simply because she doesn't have a season. When mentioning any of the three Wind brothers they will be referred to as 'Wind' and 'it', but if it mentions their mortal lives then they will be referred to as 'he/his'.
I thrive on reviews so please tell me what you think of it already!
EDIT: I decided that being able to describe and show you what she's been doing during her years as an immortal is possible to weave into the story, as some I thought needed a few chapters dedicated to itself, but no I can do it so the main event of the story begins in the next chapter.