I do not own ROTG (Rise of the Guardians), nor have I ever.
Pitch snarls/laughs to himself, thinking of the chaos to come. It's spring (in the northern hemisphere), and Pitch is ready for revenge. Pitch Black 'woke up' at the end of the very winter he was defeated on. He is too weak to exact his complete revenge on the guardians. No, he won't be coming back in full blast for another two decades or so. Until then, he can amuse himself with a ''little'' prank involving his arch enemy. Pitch ''chuckles'' once again.
. . .
Jack flies back to the Warren, absolutely exhausted from making one of his biggest snow storms of the season. He leaves an almost invisible trail of frost, as he stumbles along, a tired smile crossing his lips. He may be exhausted, but Jack Frost sure as heck had fun. He collapses into his private ''nest'' of blankets and pillows, clinging onto his staff even in sleep. Frosty doesn't notice a tendril of black curl along his beloved shepherd's crook, and worm its way into his very skin
. . .
Our cold-blooded hero wakes up, groggy and disoriented. He scratches his head, licking his chapped lips, only to jerk his hand away. 'WHA?! Why is my hair so long?!' Jack makes a mirror of ice, his jaw hitting the floor at seeing his hair a good foot longer. He scrables around in his head, trying to come up with a decently logical explanation. 'Calm down Frost and think. How much does hair grow? 1/2 inch per month. So far, so bad. It's about *deep breath*, a foot longer . . . Oh. Oh, man . . . Two years. I-I was tired after that storm, but two, stinkin', years asleep?! ' Frostbite starts to panic.
Then cold (no pun intended) realization hits. Jack thinks of how much of Jamie's life he's missed. He thinks of how long he hasn't done his job. Finally, he wonders if the Guardians have forgotten him. Frosty gingerly picks up his staff, holding it in front of him like a shield. He gets ready to face a world that may have completely changed. As he pulls up his hood, he doesn't notice what else has changed about himself.
"Oi! Ankle Biter! Long time no see!" Jack jumps a few feet at Bunnymund's unusually cheery voice. Jack asks how long he's been asleep, bracing himself for the worst. "A good two-" Jack gulps,"days." Frostbite's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. "Then how do you explain this." Jack is somewhat surprised at his higher voice, but chocks it up to sleep. He reveals his long hair, relief and wonder flowing into his system at the same time. Bunny's eye starts to twitch in a way that would usually make Jack laugh his head off. Well, that's probably Bunny beats him too it. The now hyperventilating 'rabbit' manges to cough out that he'll talk to North. Jack glares at the Pooka's back, then busies himself with seeing if anything else has changed (via ice-mirror). The list consists of: Longer and thinner fingers, longer eyelashes, thinnner eyebrows, shorter height, and altogether less muscle tone. (Not that he had much to begin with.)
Jack, being Jack, gets impatient for Bunny's report and flies off to talk to North himself. His hair whipping in the North Wind feels weird, but nice. Jack laughs with the gusts as they toss him around. It takes more than a little weirdness to get the guardian of fun down. He preforms a few cartwheels and summersaults, while trying to fit the pieces together. Who says you can't think and have fun at the same time?! The Santoff Claussen comes into view too soon for Jack. But, oh, well.
A black cloud smashes into Frostbite, sending him spinning down to the ground. Needles of black sand ripping through his favorite hoodie, but only leaving scratches, for some reason. Frosty collides with a snow drift, his staff flying out of his hand. North Wind sweeps up a badly shaken Spirit of Winter, while (thankfully) managing to gather up his staff. She pounds and rattles on the window to be let in. Sandy obliges-and is uncerimoniously bowled over. "Jack!" Tooth cries, running to him.
"Uuuhhhhh . . . Food . . ." he grumbles (along with his stomach). Jack makes a mental note to never ever sleep that long again. He is absolutely starving, and to top it off, that annoyingly high voice hasn't worn off yet. The spirit sounded like a girl! Another thunder bolt of understanding strikes Jack. This causes him to look down at his chest, since he can see it through the torn hoodie. Oh, brother . . . He, or rather she, wraps her arms around herself. Not wanting anyone else to see. (I mean come on, she's in a room full of guys.) You can't really see all that much through the rips and tears, but it's enough. Jack feels a purple blush creep up on her cheeks, but not for the last time.*
*A line from the Hobbit, which belongs to R.R. Tolkien. (I'm not quite sure if it's 'and' or 'but' in the quote, but that doesn't really matter.)
Base for the Cover is by ZabuKawaii.