Frostborn

Disclaimer: As you can tell, this is a disclaimer, I'll leave it to you to figure out what that means.

Brief A/N: This story will likely be filled with Anachronism Stew. This is because, A: It's set in an alternate universe, so I can say that the answer is magic, or really smart people, and B: do you know how difficult it is to write in ye olden days speak, really hard. I'm not Tolkien, or Lewis, or Martin (my gods I am definitely not them). So now, without further ado, on with the fic.

RoTG

On a moonless night, in the town of Burgess, the sound of carriage wheels rang out. Slowly, as if rising from the darkness itself, a black coach appeared on the sole road into town. Like a shadow, it crept through the streets, the sound of its wheels audible only to children; very special children. As it entered the market square, its wheels emitted one last tremulous echo before falling silent, then it waited. Before long, the pitter-patter of young feet entered the square. Two children, one about the age of eight, and the other much younger. The elder had shortly cut brown hair, while the younger was possessed of wild scraggly blonde locks. The younger, a girl, grasped her brothers hand. Together the two approached the carriage with equal parts caution and curiosity. Nearing the other side of the carriage, they found a hunched figure in a dark cloak, sitting next to a fire. Strangely though, there had been no sign of a fire of any kind from the other side of the coach. "Hello children" the figure said, finally looking up. The man had dark hair, and his skin had a gray pallor to it, his eyes though, were the most captivating aspect of his face. They shimmered in the firelight, the deep gold mirroring the red and orange of the sparks.

"W-who are you" the boy asked. The man smiled, his teeth glinting in the amber glow, "I am merely a humble story teller" the man answered, "would you like to hear one of my tales?" "Story" the girl said, fear forgotten and a smile over taking her face. "I don't know Soph, isn't it kind of late" The boy said, giving the man a distrustful glance. "Story" Sophie said firmly; "but you don't even have any shoes on and-" "story" Sophie said again, giving her brother a look somewhere between a glare and a pout.

"Humor her" the man said, grinning at the pair, "I promise it wont take long at all." "But don't you need to be paid?" Jamie asked. The man chuckled lightly, his voice filled with dark bemusement "Oh I could never accept payment from children." Sophie tugged on her brothers shirt, giving him another pout glare. "Jamie story" she said, eyes watering. "Fine" the boy sighed.

"Excellent" the man said, "now gather around children." The two huddled around the fire, which, Jamie dimly noticed, was rapidly dying. Actually, all the lights in the village seemed to be dimming, even the lights in the lamp posts, and the candles in the windows. As the shadows crept in and surrounded the group, Sophie shivered against her brother, and seemed far less eager to be out in the dark. "I'll make this story as quick as possible" the man said. "Now listen very closely, this is a tale of a creature of darkest night, and blackest shadow. A being so dark and horrendous, even the shadows shied away before it took them in hand". Sophie clutched at her brother, burying her face in his shirt and peeking out with one eye. Jamie himself was shivering, and looking out into the sudden darkness warily. "Now, our story begins."

There was only a ten foot circle of light now.

The shadows crept further. Five feet now.

They inched along the ground in opaque tendrils, eating away at the light. Three feet.

They were so close now, soaking up what remained of the fire light, leaving obsidian darkness to replace it. The smallest circle now, just encompassing the group and nothing else. All was dark but the halo of light . "Are you ready children?" the man asked, his voice filled with something dark and twisted.

"Once upon a time" he began, and the last of the firelight died to choking embers, the fear filled eyes of the two glinting with tears and the faintest red, as if they were grasping at the only light left, trying to stave off total oblivion. A guttural growl echoed from the black ocean the night had become. As the last dying embers flickered out, the shadows surged in as the end of the mans tale rang out.

"There was me."

Screams filled the night, and a laugh of darkest deed accompanied them.

Parents and children alike rushed out of their houses, stirred from restful dreams. As townsfolk entered the now empty square, they were met with yet another scream, this one a plaintive, mournful cry. A man and woman rushed out a house, the Bennett's. "Jamie, Sophie!" The woman cried, her husband echoing her. The woman's cries continued for what seemed like an eternity, to no avail, the children were gone.

The men gathered a search party and entered the woods, dogs baying at the moonless sky. All the while, no one noticed the carriage tracks.

Because there weren't any there.

Dark. . .

Cold. . .

Alone. . .

Crack.

Beneath the twinkling light of a new moon, a large chunk of ice, dislodged from it's resting place higher up the mountain by a snow storm, broke, and from it, spilled light. It poured out in an unstoppable stream, shooting up into the the aether. Soon however, the light came back, spiraling down and mixing with the silvery gleam of the moons radiant glow. The light changed, became cold, but pure, and settled back into the ice.

Slowly, the ice began to melt, water trickling down the sides in small rivulets. As more and more of the ice thawed, a shape became apparent. Eventually one could make out a distinct form, a young boy, no older than seventeen. The boy was clothed in a brown short cloak, a white shirt, and brown pants with some kind of light brown chord wrapped around the bottoms, and looked for all the world to be sleeping. More and more of the ice melted, until only the thinnest of layers separated the boys skin from the moonlight. Beneath the last of the ice however, a change began to take place. His hair, previously a shade of brown, began to lighten, and his skin seemed to grow white beneath it's frosty blanket. When the last of the ice melted, the boys form slumped into the snow, his hair now white as the powder on which it lay, and his skin almost as pale.

After a moment, the boy's form stirred. First it was a twitch in his hand, then his leg stretched. With a groan the boy sat up, limbs uncoiling. Opening bleary eyes that had not seen moonlight for ten years, the boy looked around. As he did so, though he did not know it, the last remnant's of brown fled from his eyes, being replaced with a cool blue. Standing, the boy took stock of his surroundings, and realized something. He could remember many things, he knew how to read, and write, how to do math, and how to wield a staff, though he didn't currently have one; one thing he didn't remember though, was himself. His memory of everything that had happened to him; his entire life, was blank. Even as fear ran through his form however, the boy heard something.

It couldn't be described as a voice, or even a whisper; it was more like a half forgotten thought, the memory of a fading dream, the sound of a snowflake falling. Stranger still, he couldn't seem to tell which direction the noise was coming from, almost as if it were in his head. It was light, it was practically none existent, but it was important.

You are. . . Jack Frost

Then, just like that, the impossible noise was gone, but at least the boy had a name now.

"I am. . . Jack" he said to himself tentatively, then "I'm Jack" a bit more confidently, and finally "I'm Jack, Jack Frost." Smiling to himself, Jack looked toward the moon, somehow knowing that the message had come from it.

"So, what do I do now?" Jack wondered aloud, though he received no answer. In the distance, Jack noticed a faint collection of lights, which he assumed was a village. "Well" he said, "I might as well get going", without another word, Jack set off the the shimmering lights in the distance, feet flying and frost chasing at his heels.

Frost curled under Jacks feet as he made his way through the forest. His pale bare feet made no sound as they descended on the snow, and they left no footprint. The bare tree's were absent of their usual cries, as the animals were all either asleep or had already fled from winter's tight embrace. Whistling a tuneless song, Jack continued along his meandering path, fingers tracing lightly along any nearby bark. Though he appeared young, Jack in actuality had no idea how old he was. He had the same appearance now as he did ten years ago when he first woke from the ice.

Currently, Jack was on his way back to the village of Burgess, a bundle slung over his shoulder. Inside the bundle were a number of things he had bought, haggled for, found, or borrowed, and all of them were for two very special children. Generally the people of Burgess didn't mind Jack's presence, though they weren't comfortable with him being near their children. To them he was merely "The Frost Boy" a creature that caused no harm, but one that should generally be left alone. Just because Jack was harmless didn't mean that being associated with him wasn't dangerous after all, at least that's what they believed. However, one couple didn't mind Jack, and in fact encouraged their children to play with him, the Bennett's.

They had seen Jack's caring nature, and his ability to bring smiles to the children's faces, and viewed him as a benevolent spirit. Additionally, their children would be much safer in the woods with a winter spirit than they would be with almost anyone else, especially as Burgess was caught in the realm of the Winter Dell, and as such, was perpetually in a state of ice and snow; and therefore, Jack would always be strong. No wolf would be able to match his power, whether normal or supernatural, though they themselves had never actually seen Jack in a fight.

Nearing the village, Jack felt as if something was off, and his quiet tune died off. There was something wrong, he sensed, something not quite right; the very snow beneath his feet felt different. Nudging the white flakes with his toes, Jack discovered something very peculiar. Beneath the fresh coat of crystalline ice there was a different snow. No more than a day old, Jack realized what was wrong the moment he got a look at it. Unlike the pure white of freshly fallen snow, or the dirty shade snow got when mixed with mud, this layer of snow, was black. While it wasn't everywhere, it was still obvious that something had tainted this snow. Bits of black, like tiny dark shards, were imbedded in the white, like small, malignant tumors.

The faint echo of a cry reached Jack's ears, and without another seconds hesitation, he shot off, feet gliding on the ice, speeding toward the village in a fury of ice and snow.

When Jack reached the town, he immediately set off for the square, sure that that was where the cry had originated. When he arrived, he found the square full of people. One by one, they noticed him, and stepped aside, allowing him through to the center. The looks on their faces varied from shock, to hope, to disgust. At the center of the group sat a familiar, crying woman, her face buried in her hands, and another woman at her shoulders, enfolding her in a hug.

It took Jack a few seconds to reconcile the sobbing form before him, with the cheerful one he had come to know, but after looking at the woman for a bit, he realized that yes, it was Mrs. Bennett. The other woman looked at Jack with sad eyes, before glancing back down to Mrs. Bennett. Shaking her shoulders, the woman got Mrs. Bennett to look up, where, upon seeing Jack, she gasped.

"J-Jack" she managed to get in between sobs.

"What is it Mrs. Bennett?" Jack asked; judging from her current state, he had a good idea, though he hoped he was wrong.

"It's the children, Jamie and Sophie" the silence was absolute, and not a sound was made, save for her continued gasps.

"They're gone."

Jack could have spent hours searching for the children as the members of the village had, but he knew it would do no good. Even without the black snow, he could tell that whatever had taken the children was not human. Unlike the others, he had a sense for the supernatural, being a part of it himself, and he could feel the disturbance in the air itself, something was definitely wrong. He could also tell, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the kids were no longer within the vicinity of the village. There was an emptiness to the chilled air, a hollowness not present previously. It was this more so than the snow that told him the children were gone.

Jack skated over the ground like a flash of white lightning, breath puffing out of the sides of his mouth, though it made no appearance in the air. He had been traveling for half an hour now, and though he had no need for sleep, he did require rest every once in a while. Burgess had long receded into the trees, and the road ahead appeared treacherous and endless. Though it was only noon, the sky overhead was gray as gunmetal, and the sun was already three thirds across the sky. Night came quickly to those who lived within the Winter Dell. On some days the effect was so startling that those who lived near the boundary line could cross from near total darkness to a clear spring day, or into the brisk breeze of the Valley of Voices depending on which side you lived on. As he slid across the icy ground, Jack mulled several ideas over in his head. Jamie and Sophie were taken from the town by a creature that left darkness in its wake, but no tracks.

The Winter dell was home to many magical entities, a multitude of which could fly, but if it was one of them, then there would be no black snow. The snow itself presented another problem. While members of the Dell's residency were far from harmless, and a few of them were deliberately malicious, as Jack had discovered through first hand experience, those that would enter the village weren't exactly numerous. More to the point those who could enter the village with evil intent were a scarcity, even more so since Jack's arrival. Burgess was situated in one of the naturally occurring safe zones of the Dell. Places like that were resistant to entities of maleficence. Then there were the Burgess Bells; crafted decades ago by an unknown forger, the bells were naturally unpleasant for dark creatures, and when rung, which they were every night, the detrimental effects on evil they had lasted for a full day. With these types of protection encircling the village, the number of creatures that would and could approach the village, with enough sentience to take the children could be counted on two hands. Of those, none of them left markings like the kind Jack had found. It could only mean one thing. "Something came into the Dell" he murmured aloud "something new, something strong, and something smart."

If a creature like that came into the Dell and immediately went for it's largest village, there was little reason to assume that it would remain inside its boundaries or even that it still was; which presented a complication for Jack. While not bound like the other more powerful entities of the Dell, for whatever reason, to one specific place, or even the Dell as a whole, Jack was not as strong outside of its sphere of influence. His powers relied more on manipulation of preexisting snow and frost rather than creation. While he could produce the energy required to create the snow, it taxed him greatly. There was only one town left before Jack exited the Dell, and though the growing disturbance in the air told him he was getting closer to the creature, or at least that he was picking up a solid trail, he had to assume if he didn't catch the creature now, it would move out of the Dell and be beyond his abilities to defeat.

"Alright" Jack said to the perpetual winter air "Get ready Santoff Claussen, you're about to get frostbite."

A/N: Alrighty then, that's almost three thousand words for chapter one, not bad, especially compared to my other stories. I was going to wait until around five thousand words before uploading this, but I thought I'd leave it at a nice cliffhanger, Besides now I can spend more time on Jack meeting North.

Until next time, which will be (hopefully) soon, later.