Okay, now don't ask, but this just hit me one day.
This is a BlackFrost / BlackIce Fic, so if you don't like it, GET OUT!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for the vague description of the little girl.
Chapter 1
Growling, the white haired teen tried to keep his anger in check. This was the third time this WEEK that they had argued. And that was within only TWO DAYS! The week before it had been FIVE times, and that alone had gotten of the winter spirit's nerves.
Before, it had been just simple little things that would make Pitch's non-existent eyebrow twitch, but he would never say anything unless what Jack had done had put one of his rare and precious objects or books in danger. Pitch had several millennia to collect things, but there were two things that he treasured on the same level that he treasured Jack: his library that had books back from when he was Kozmotis Pitchiner and his instruments.
A case and point had been when Jack had childishly thrown a snowball at Pitch while the Nightmare King had been tuning his piano. The snowball had missed and hit the bench instead. Pitch had been furious and made Jack clean up all of the snow and dust everything in all of the rooms in that wing while he tried to save the defenceless wooden piano bench.
It wasn't really an unfair punishment, in all honesty. The only thing that Pitch had asked of Jack was that he never unleashed snow within his home. Jack had complained at first, but a hard look from Pitch and a very lonesome night out on the couch fixed that. It was a mutual agreement that Jack would keep his frost and snow far away from Pitch's instruments and books if Pitch would teach him how to read and join in on his snow day fun.
It took a lot of begging and pleading for Pitch to agree to that, but Jack had learned on thing very well. Pitch was a sucker for large eyes and pouty lips. Jack was glad that he had managed to convince Pitch to join in, he had never seen the elder spirit having so much fun before.
But recently, their arguments had begun to escalate in number. And it was over the weirdest of things too.
Looking up at the Nightmare King, Jack tried to piece together why he had said that. Why had he said that he was the embodiment of fun? That Pitch had no control over him; he was the wind, wild and free to do as he pleased. That the Man in the Moon had created him to be free, have the choice of what he wanted, no one else.
Pitch's face was slowly contorting, losing its normal expression, becoming dark and angry.
"You were created for me! You are my shadow bride! That is what the Man in the Moon created you for!" Snarling, Pitch loomed over Jack, his shadows curling around the young frost sprite. He was beyond pissed. How dare this little boy dare to assume that he understood him, the king of nightmares and darkness.
Looking up at Pitch, Jack felt as though he had been slapped across the face.
Those words that Pitch had shrieked at him cut deeply, stabbing at the guardian of fun's core.
It hurt, what Pitch said.
Had MiM really created him for that?
Created him for the sole reason of becoming Pitch's spouse?
Was that really his only purpose?
His worry and fright of Pitch changed though; becoming darker, colder. How dare Pitch say that to him. How dare he say that to him when he was the only one to see past everything.
"How dare you!" Yelling in anger, Jack swung a fist at the boogeyman, his eyes colder than the Arctic air he travelled on. Pitch was quick to raise a wall of his nightmare sand to defend himself. Growling in response, Pitch rounded on the winter spirit and let loose a barrage of nightmare sand.
The attacks bounced off each other and turned toward the next source of lively energy, a young child out on the frozen lake that Jack had been trying to refreeze over so that there was no thin ice. She was humming a tune to herself, her eyes closed as she skated around the lake. If one looked close enough, they could see a set of ear-buds nestled comfortably in her ears. She was oblivious to the two lovers and their quarrel though she had seen them quite clearly when she had walked past both of them on her way to the lake, her skates slung over her shoulders.
The first to hit her was a small amount of snow, in a haphazard snowball shape that had her stumbling as it hit one of her balance points. Opening her eyes sharply, she ripped out her ear-buds, whipping around the yell at the person that had thrown the snow ball at her.
The first flickers of the nightmare sand caught her next. Screaming in terror as she was pushed farther out onto the lake, she tried to keep her balance and fight off the assault of snow and black sand. She wasn't afraid of the sand and snow itself, she wasn't ignorant to Jamie's Guardian friends or the Nightmare King's speciality.
What scared her was the fact that she was being pushed toward the thinner ice.
Both the Nightmare King and the Frost sprite look away from their argument, their eyes wide as they watched the ice crack under the child's weight. Pitch almost choked on the shear terror rolling off the girl; fright was all right, it was both sweet and bitter, like the Dark chocolates that Jack liked. But terror had a much stronger affect, much like the burn Pitch got from drinking some of North's alcohol.
Both of the spirits lunged forward, their powers trying to stop the inevitable Black sand mixed with the white snow, surging forward in a combined effort to save their believer.
CREEEEAAAACK!
Red hair flew up, the loose strands weightless against the rush of falling. Her dark green eyes were wide in terror, one last scream ripping from her throat as she plunged into the freezing water. Any air that had been left in her lungs rushed away as the water seeped through her clothes. The saying that cold water took your breath away was very true; something that she had never known until now.
Black sand and pure white frost followed her into the water, both trying to pull her out before she drowned. It would be truly unfair for her to drown because of their problems.
Because they had chosen this place to fight.
An effort that quickly became evident was a lost cause. The girl's once vivid green eyes were dull and lifeless in moments. Small bubbles rose to the surface minutes apart and then not at all; the ice water rushing into her small lungs. Her limbs were quickly frozen and useless, even if she could have put up a fight.
Screaming in frustration, Jack clawed at the surface of the lake, plunging his arms into the freezing water and only succeeding in freezing the surface - and his arms in place.
Pitch was having limited success as well. His sand was getting water logged quickly, and Jack's attempts to physically drag the girl out was making things harder. He was a sprite of frost, snow, and winter. Water quickly froze, making their attempts useless.
Ripping his arms out of the ice, Jack howled in frustration and anger. He swore that he would protect children like this girl and he had helped to drown her!