I just want to say right away that this will only be a oneshot. The last oneshot I wrote ended up with me continuing it and failing miserably because I had no inspiration (and the fact that it was just made to be a oneshot, you know? How you can just tell that it's a dead end?)
This was written in a fog of inspiration and insomnia, meaning that I didn't really proofread it. No one read it over for me either, so if you find any mistakes or anything, feel free to tell me so I can fix it...(not that I thingk about it, I don't think I used the word 'reprehension' correctly, ugh whatever)
I don't own Jack Frost, Rise of the Guardians, the wind or the moon. I only own the plot...
Enjoy~
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Jack wandered around alone in the middle of a snow covered glen somewhere in Northern Canada, pondering his existence for the umpteenth time. The moon is shining bright above him in the dark sky and there isn't a cloud in sight, the stars sparkling like diamonds. It is snowing ever so slightly and each snowflake dances around the winter spirit. A fragile smile forms on his face as he is gently kissed on the cheek, the tingle of cold tickles his face as the snowflakes melt. But the moment is quickly eradicated by Jack's thoughts, the smile wiped away completely from his frail face. Jack is forcefully dragged back into the lonely pain of being forgotten. His heart yearns to be seen by someone, anyone.
The silence around him only propels Jack's agonizing thoughts further. His mind is foggy with a ghost pain in his chest, as if someone impaled him with a sharp poisoned dagger. The sadness permeates within his soul each day, the days of frustration and anger completely gone. He remembers when he felt anger. Anger towards the Moon for seemingly creating him needlessly. Anger towards the children and adults for not seeing him and constantly walking through him. The frustration weighed heavily upon him day and night. In his anger and hurt frustration he would curse the Moon for his anguished and cursed existence.
Jack felt as if he had no purpose. No one could see him, yet he roamed around the world creating snowstorms and blanketing the various landscapes with freshly fallen snow. He could breathe and was a conscious being, yet he couldn't speak to anyone, human's and animals alike. He would start out in a state of complete confusion. That confusion would bleed into frustration. And that frustration would grow into anger and hate. And that anger and hate would provoke an uncontrollable outburst from Jack.
One particular unforgettable outburst occurred roughly 130 years ago.
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Jack was wandering around the growing village of Burgess, having one sided conversations with the citizens, mindlessly freezing random objects and overhearing rumours from the chatty women. Finding the adults to be boring and a bit droll, Jack turned his attention to a group of children playing at the edge of the village. Their innocence served as a sort of peace emitter for Jack and their childlike views of the world would momentarily blind him from the hurt and sorrow that the world possessed.
The children exchanged the stories and fables of non other than the Easter Bunny and Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy and the Sandman. The kids would fight over who was cooler, causing Jack to laugh. He commented that he was most likely 'cooler' than each and every one of the characters discussed, his remark falling upon deaf ears, as usual.
His amusement was cut short by the call of a mother back in the village about it being dinnertime, filling the children with glee and resulting in them sprinting back to their homes. A few of the children ran right through him and he was painfully reminded that no one could see him, the physical burn in his chest throbbing with indifference of his anguish. Each time he was walked through, he would lose his breath and temporarily experience fuzziness of his eyesight. Jack, hurt and frustrated retreated back to his lake.
The tears formed in his eyes as the Wind carried him to the middle of the Burgess lake. It was the first place to where he could recall ever being. His earliest memory of breaking through the ice and being lifted into the air. The Moon, shining bright high in the sky, whispered to him one thing, the whisper of his name: Jack Frost.
'The Moon,' he thought, 'It was the Moon who resurrected him into this new existence, if it could even be considered an existence. It was the Moon who spoke to him only once then promptly ignored him from then on out," Jack sucked in a breath of chilled air. He tried to keep himself collected. 'It was the Moon's fault for him being alone. It was the Moon's fault for his insistent pain, his blatant suffering.'
Jack let out a shout of rage, stomping his foot into the ice and glaring at the Moon. The sound of ice cracking filled his ears and his head began to hurt, a feeling of nostalgia creeping up on him. His mind attempted to remember a seemingly lost thought, perhaps even a forgotten memory but gave up at the sharp pain which shot through his skull, preventing him form forming any sort of finishing thought or opinion on the matter.
His hand shot up to his head in a failed effort to lessen the pain, his staff held tightly in the other. This unexpected exposure to pain only fueled his anger.
"Why me!? Why did you chose me!? What the Hell is my purpose, huh? What the Hell am I supposed to do when no one can see me!? Nobody even knows I exists!"
He faintly noticed the Wind trying to calm him down, wrapping around his body and caressing his face in a failed attempt at comfort.. He disregarded the Wind blowing through his unruly hair. His attention was honed in on the Moon and his bitter reprehension.
"Why do I have to suffer every single day? What did I could I have possibly done to deserve this!?
No one answered him.
The Moon kept shining bright, illuminating the dark sky silently. Jack tried to hold back the tears, his whole body trembled in despair. The Moon never answered him. He never offered Jack any kind of advice or guidance in all the years of him being Jack Frost. All he had to take on the world with was the staff that granted himself the ability to fly and produce ice. A piece of wood that couldn't talk to him when he was lonely, or comfort him when he got upset.
Lost in the whirlwind of his emotions, Jack stared at the one 'gift' the Moon, oh so graciously bestowed upon him. He clenched the staff tightly with both hands, almost wanting to snap it in half.
"The only thing you give me is a Goddamn stick," he growled, breathing heavily and glaring at the Moon. He felt the urge to do harm to something, the urge to destroy anything and everything he could. He felt the urge to abandon the staff, just like the Moon had abandoned him. With an angry yell, Jack swung the staff and launched it towards the woods. It shot through the air with impressive speed, flipping through the Wind effortlessly and crashed into a tree trunk.
A resounding CRACK was heard, and suddenly Jack found himself doubled over. A yelp of protest at the invasive strike of pain escaped his lips. His arms wrapped around his midsection as another wave of merciless pain passed through his body until all that was left was numbness. He breathes out a sigh of relief at the absence of agony only to welcome a wave of panic that washed over him. Some sort of innate instinct within himself told him not to part with the staff and to prevent any damage from happening to it. Too bad he was too blinded by fury to initially listen to it.
Jack struggled to stand up and sprinted in the direction of his staff, slipping multiple times on the glossy ice and nearly falling over. He quickly realized how clumsy he was without his staff. It acted like an extension of himself equivalent to a cat or monkey's tail. He trudged over a slight snowbank and desperately grabbed his staff, his one true possession. Jack leaned up against the tree that his staff nearly snapped in half upon contact and slid to the ground, cradling the treasure that was a part of him.
Jack cried.
He cried in relief.
He cried in frustration.
He cried in defeat.
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For years all Jack could feel was anger and bitterness. Outburst after outburst made it's way through Jack, oftentimes leaving fallen trees and peculiar ice formations in seemingly random places around the worlds.
Once the violent outbursts seceded, all that was left was his cursed sorrow and emptiness. His center would feel hollow and the ongoing distressing thoughts would leave him numb. Jack would frequently find himself in the middle of Antarctica or out in the middle of the Burgess lake and not move for days, wallowing in self-pity and wondering if he truly existed or not. The numbness would eventually be replaced by physical pain.
The physical pain was far worse than the numbness. Jack had bouts of pain shoot through his body causing his chest to ache and found it was hard to breathe. The pain and emptiness would choke him and his adrenaline would spike. The result would end up with a sleepless Jack and a chain of freak snowstorms across the country, confusing weather forecasters and scientists alike.
Once again, the Wind roused him out of his gloomy reverie. The snowflakes pressed to his cheek in a faux kiss. Jack smiled sadly and sighed. It may be that Jack wasn't seen by humans or animals, but the Wind was always there. He trusted her with every fiber of his being. Jack didn't know why he referred to the Wind as a 'she'. He just felt like the Wind took care of him, doted on him somewhat like a mother would their child. She carried him wherever he wanted to go, oftentimes protecting him from nearly crashing into trees or houses when he dozed off or was distracted.
"I don't know what I'd do without you."
The Wind responded by pulling some bits of falling snow into a formation from her invisible patterns in the air. An easily identifiable silhouette of a young woman, a little shorter that Jack appeared in front of him. A delicate smile graced her petite face.
Jack laughed in a rare moment of ease. He bowed to the woman and she curtsied in return. Jack held out his hand in offering. The Wind reached over and 'placed' her hand in his. He lead her around, dancing to no particular rhythm in the silence of the starry night, even incorporating his staff into the dance. The crunch of the snow beneath his feet accompanied the whistling of the Wind. Each and every motion Jack made, the Wind fell in step, easily mimicking the movements of the young winter spirit.
Jack twirled her around and they waltzed in the moonlight. The falling snowflakes accompanied the unusual couple, swaying in the Wind in their own dance. In this moment Jack could forget about his suffering and confusion. He could actually enjoy the moment and be thankful to be 'alive'.
Jack noticed the formation of others from the sparkling snowflakes around himself and the Lady of the Wind. The formations merged together into other couples waltzing in tune with the unusual couple. Jack laughed again in bliss. The men were 'clothed' their Sunday's best and the women were 'cloaked' in flowy gowns that trailed after them elegantly.
The various couples would glance over and nod in recognition towards Jack which made his heart soar. Human or not, the feeling of being seen warmed his heart in a wondrous and welcoming manner. Jack felt the tears begin to form again, his vision partially blurred with appreciative tears. The stars glistened in the sky above them, casting their little bits of light on the collection of waltzers. The Moon shined on as always, not a cloud could be spotted.
They all danced for what seemed like hours, everyone joyfully twirling and dancing around each other in sync. But all good things must come to an end. Couple by couple dissipated into the dark night until the last two left were just Jack and the Lady of the Wind. He graciously smiled at her one last time, for he knew that the moment of bliss had passed.
His dance partner smiled at him once more and leaned in close. She pecked his cheek before dissipating into a cluster of snowflakes and breezed through his hair affectionately. The smile still possessed Jack's face and he looked up to the sky to watch the Moon silently. He took a breath in a deep breath, a feeling of content momentarily overcoming the winter spirit.
Whether or not the Moon would guide him, Jack knew he could continue forward. Hell, he's made it this far hasn't he? He knew could get through the painful sorrow he must deal with daily and he knows that he will one day find the key to his existence.
He would endure.
He would survive.
He would carry on.
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Carry on my wayward son,
There'll be peace when you are done,
Lay your weary head to rest,
Don't you cry no more~
Okay, enough of my ramble-bamble bullcrap.
Feel free to review and thanks for reading!