I do not own ROTG (Rise Of The Guardians), I never have, and I never will. Too bad, eh?

ALSO the base used for the cover is by So-so-Deviant-Bakura.*

. . .

Jack Frost is sitting in a snowdrift, bored out of his frostbitten mind. He's buried half the world in snow today, and buried the other half yersturday. He's too tired to move, let alone challenge Jamie to a snowball fight, but not too tired to think. He goes over some of his life in solitude, remembering the Titanic, the blizzard of '68, almost freezing Washinton's troop into popcicles . . . He shakes his head, too late to do anything about it now. No reason to go and get depressed about it either. He's the Guardian of Fun, for Pete's sake! He searches his mind for a happier memory, finally stumbling onto it. He smiles, thinking of one of the first times the Guardians had acually paid some attention to him.

. . .

Okay, this was the last straw. We're talking the 200th Christmas in a row he'd been completely forgotten! Not even a lousy lump of coal! Jack shoves a hand in his pocket, while slinging his staff over his shoulder. He'd fix them, Jack Frost would not go unnoticed! He'd bury North up to his ears in snow . . . Frosty mentally slaps himself. What is he thinking?! Doing his job never got their attention, and it never would. He could put the whole world in a deep freeze and they wouldn't care-provided it started to melt come spring. Jack shuts off the snow blowing around him, a semi-evil grin spreading across his face. He'd just stop making things cold altogether, that'd throw things outta wack for awhile. Just long enough for them to notice his existence, mind you.

Day 1 Of The Great Snow Strike:

So far, nothing. Jack's feeling a little light headed, but not much more. A small price to pay for getting noticed. He's road the wind, which has been tempting him all. Day. Long. Just let loose. Jack just laughs it off, and lets the wind toss him around instead.

Day 2:

'Just a light headache, just a light headache, just a light headache,' Frosty repeats his mantra, refusing to give in. He takes his mind off his head by (manually) starting a snowball fight. *POW* He hits a teenager right in the kisser, who looks around wildly, wondering who hit him. Jack sighs, but lets loose a volly of snowballs. Chaos errupts in record time. So much snow is being thrown around Frosty wonders if he's accidentally lost control of his powers. He doubles over laughing when a particularly grouchy old man gets hit in the cross fire. Headache? What Headache?

Day 3:

Right, THAT headache. Frostbite groans, his head feels like it's splitting open. He gets hint of a memory. It's cloudly, but it seems to be about a man teaching his son to chop wood. Now he knows how the wood feels. No sign from the Guardians, not even Sandy. They don't care if you live or die. They don't even care if you do your job, just as long as their precious children don't get hurt. We both know that's because they're dead if their believers are. Give up and let loose your fury. Bury them, and kill your headache at the same time. Jack shakes his head, effectively silencing the poisonous voice in his mind. No, he wouldn't give up. This is the only hope he has left, and he's going to stick to it like the permafrost he is.

Day 4:

The fourth day of the strike adds nausia to headache. Jack feels too poorly to ride the wind for more than ten minutes. "Wind, please, put me down," Jack asks the wind, feeling his stomach heave. He's suddenly glad he hasn't had much to eat for awhile, or this (leftover) snow may not be so pristinely white. The wind puts him down gently, like he could fall apart at any moment. It blows around him worriedly, ruffling his hair. Jack smiles sadly, gripping his staff tighter as another wave of nausea hits. He promises the wind to never do this again, but to please help him ride this out.

Day 5:

Bunnymund paces the Warren, Easter eggs put aside for now. According to North, it hasn't snowed anywhere in the world for the past five days. Has something happened to that stupid Winter Spirit? Is Pitch on the war path? What's going on around here?! This is what he gets for being a recluse . . . Aster stops, deciding to take action. He runs his hand down his face. Great, he's turning into Tooth. He swears that if that Ankle Biter isn't being torured by Pitch at LEAST, he is going to . . . Well, never mind what Bunny's planning on doing. It's unprintable. The Pooka growls to himself, swearing to MiM that heads will roll.

. . .

Jack can't even see straight, let alone stand up right now. Besides, if he stands up, he's afraid he'll throw up. The wind is going crazy, moaning and groaning. It wordlessly pleas with Jack give in. It nudges his staff, doing everything it can to get the point across. Jack smiles sadly (again), weakly holding out his hand in the worried North Wind.

A nervous squirrel runs to tell his friends what's happening to Jack. Word goes around fast in the forest. Things are soon in an uproar with wolves howling and bears yowling. To your run of the mill bystander, it sounds like a portal to the very middle of hell has opened up. A reporter notices this, and soon word is spread around Burgess.

Day 6:

Bunny walks into a clearing, seeing the lake that hasn't taken a child's life for the past 200 years. The whole forest seems to be one big pelt. Thousands of winter animals have come, worried about the one boy that can make winter, winter. Bunnymund's nose soon picks up the scent of weakness and sorrow. It seems even the very wind is crying. Aster starts to feel depressed, and he doesn't even know why. The pieces to this grotesque puzzle start to come together. In the center of the furry mass, near a tree, a white head can be seen. Bunny walks forward, stepping over the crying animals. In this one moment of sadness, the lion is truely lying next to the lamb. Full grown wolves have their tails curled around baby rabbits. Razor-clawed hawks are clinging onto the same branches as sparrows. It absolutely terrifies the Pooka. "Hey, Kangaroo, I didn't think you'd come . . ." Jack tiredly looks up at Bunny, going into a coughing fit. Bunny gingerly picks up the Frost Child up, wondering what could drive him to this.

. . .

Aster lays Jack down on the frozen ground of the North Pole. Frost feels like he's going to burst, and gratefully lets his power leak out. At first, it's so slow you could almost count the snowflakes. But the wind picks up, Jack's staff starts to glow with energy, and Bunnymund is nearly up to his rabbit ears in snow all too soon. "I-I s-swear, i-i-iif y-you ever try this t-trick again, I-I will throttle you, Jack Frost. N-next time you want c-company, just ASK. Crickey, F-Frostbite. . ."

. . .

Jack smiles again, Bunny cought cold after that little episode, and hadn't let him live it down for another centery. But it felt good to know someone knew you were around, even if they continuosly held it over your head. He turns when he hears a familiar tromp, tromp, tromp, through the woods. Bunny has taken up that little habbit a year or so after Pitch's defeat. But that is another story. (It's also a heckuva lot funnier.)

. . .

Base link: ?q=hand+base#/art/Almost-Base-143416006?_sid=2c4b796a *

I'm not quite sure if this is gonna be a one-shot or not. I guess it depends on the reaction this one gets (and if I get anymore inspiration.)

In case you're wondering, Bunnymund told Jack his side of the story, so that's why Frosty can 'remember' what Bunny was feeling.