Hello all, HuaiYin here. I'm trying my hand out on a crossover for the first time in a long time. For whatever reason the Jelsa pairing has captured my heart and I can't let it go. So clearly I must write.
This fic is AU becuase honestly every Jelsa fic is AU. But this one takes place in modern day society and faces modern day crimes. Anarchy, organized crime, oppressed human spirit, to name a few. These are a few concepts I will be exploring with this.
With that said let's get on with the story! I do hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I own neither Rise of the Guardians nor Frozen.
Hush Now, Quiet Now
...
The night was crystal sharp darkness breathed in with steady breaths. The moon hung, a wide unblinking eye high above the dark, throwing dewy silver light upon all it saw. Perhaps he meant his sight to illumination for the wayward traveler but all the objects merely writhed under his steady gaze, gaping still shadows spilling out from their sides.
However one such maw of shadows in an alley his light barely penetrated shifted and flickered beneath him, yielding forth a figure from within it. The figure twisted, straightening itself, it's back burdened with a huge lump. He appeared to be spun of shadows himself, so draped and black and secrets was he. But the cold fingers of moonlight touched his forehead and tilted his head back, shooting stardust into blue sharded eyes and ghostpale skin. A black kerchief hid the rest of the figure's face.
Slowly the figure crept over to a brick wall, cocking his head slightly at the structure. He reached out a black gloved hand and gently ran his fingers over the bricks, not caring as the rough texture snared the soft cotton and resisted beneath his touch. He pulled back his hand and removed his glove, placing his bare hand over the cold, cold bricks. His eyes drifted closed and he breathed in deeply of the crisp night air as he listened to all the wall had to say.
A loud rattle penetrated the night as the figure swiftly dumped his backpack by his legs and yanked it open, digging around inside. He pulled out several cackling cylinders of spray paint and set them by his feet for easy access. He chose the can he wanted and shook it vigorously, wincing at the loud sound it made as he readied it. Blue eyes darted about in a nervous fashion but the rest of the world slept on, oblivious to what was about to take place.
A loud hiss tore through the air as he pressed down on the button at the top. His right hand flew across bricks; streaking it with white so bright it rivaled the moon. He switched to blue and then silver and then back to white. Fumes flurried about him and his eyes became fevered, so alight with sparks he was only able to stop when the masterpiece was done. Breathing heavily through his kerchief he stumbled back and gazed upon his work. He tore off his mask, revealing a mischievous grin as unsure as the crescent moon. In a flash the cylinders had been packed away and the figure was sinking back into black as though he'd never been there at all.
But he had been there. The spray paint upon the wall winked at the moon one last time as it dried and cemented.
When the morning dawned, the silver light would be stolen away with streaks of copper. But the graffiti remained, proud and stark against the red of the bricks. People passing by on their way to work and school gaped, mouths falling open, for once lost for words.
A huge moon took up most of the wall now, sitting against the blue put down to cushion it. Silver facets ran along its sides and bold words were printed beside it, a loud banner that couldn't be ignored.
THE REVOLUTION HAS BEGUN. ARENDELLE BEWARE.
End of Chapter 1