Fly With Me
Summary: All of the Guardians have a reason for stopping interacting with the children. Aster's? His came in the form of an eight year old girl with more freckles than hairs, and her brother with the brilliant blue eyes matching the one's in front of him, on the grandest ship in the world.
Genre: Family, Tragedy, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship (possible romance; read below please)
Warning : Reincarnation (lightly mentioned), butchering of the time line, possible butchering of Aster and North's accents, I don't have a Beta Reader so I'm checking for my own mistakes
Hey guys! This is my first official posted story, and I am pretty excited to be honest. So, I'm thinking the movie was set in maybe 2000, just for the sake that those kids actually hung out outside, and with one another face to face. The Guardian's must loath technology, they cut the believing period.
This story is based of the movie Titanic. No, it most likely will not be factual. I may do a little research here and there but for the most part it'll be what I remember off the movie. I know that Jack is roughly three hundred and eighteen years old, and the Titanic incident happened in 1912, so the Winter Spirit was obviously in that form, however in this story Jack Frost is still Jack Overland (from a different era), and on a boat to his own demise. Just not the way he thinks.
By the way, I do ship Jackrabbit! I'm not sure whether I'm making this story just a family/friendship and then posting a separate piece for inserted romance scenes, or making this whole thing romance. Please vote on my poll and/or tell me a review.
That's it, enjoy!
The Question: Why?
It happened to be a rare, quiet moment at Santoff Clausen. A fire blazed, giving the room a comfortable heat and a glow that lit all four walls, casting shadows of five figures in the room. One, a small, short man slouching in an armchair finding some well deserved rest before he was sent off to give dreams to the children of the world. Another was a petite, winged creature with a small group of followers resembling hummingbirds, whispering words to them while conversing in the same tone to a large male, with big hands and a long beard. Another shadow appeared to be resemble an animal sitting in a human position with long ears and paws moving over something on his lap. A sketchpad.
The final resident in the room lay against the window shielded from the fire, and its warmth. His staff lay lazily to the side, his arms lay underneath his head as he stared outside into the frozen land. It was beautiful, his untouched creation of ice and snow. If it ever entered the warmth of this room, it would surely melt. So he contented himself to watch from afar.
Contrary to what people thought, he didn't need to always be in motion. Not that he didn't enjoy a well thought out prank, or didn't use every joke that came to mind at his disposal. However, his many years alone had taught him to appreciate these types of things. After all, with his many years of solitude, it was special to know that there was a constant. Something beautiful, and wonderful reserved for him alone. And although that was not true, it was easily something he could think it could be.
His thoughts wandered, as they often did when he temporarily ran out of words. As his companions found out, it wasn't all that uncommon for him to sometimes drop out in the middle of a thought. However, he did always come up with something else, another thing to say. As his words were rarely said aloud before, he'd stored them all inside and now that he finally trusted them, at least somewhat, it was like a flood of the English language.
Sometimes he wouldn't stop talking. But most of the time, they were alright with that. He was so full of wonder, had so many memories, some dark and lonely, others on a lighter, happier note; his dreams were so many, some bizarre, some endearing and his hope.
Oh dear MiM, the child always found time it in himself to continue to hope against all odds.
These were qualities that were loved most about him, but had taken great time, and care to find. His childlike innocence, a very reminding of the thing they all worked so hard to protect.
But Jack was not simply a child. He was a warrior, a protector. A Guardian. And it had started before he became Jack Frost. Even before he had been the latest version of Jack Overland.
It had taken years of observation, but now, twelve years after the defeat of Pitch he recognized him. Aster recognized the youth he'd met an even century ago. The small quirks of Jack had ever confirmed it. The way he never put any sugar in his tea; the fact that he even drank it warm. His steps, ever even and gracefully, on the field, and out. The absolute hatred of shoes. The harmless pranks and jokes. The gentle way he handled the children.
Aster saw it to the point that it almost hurt.
But he was a master of hiding this particular emotion. That didn't stop him from gripping the death grip he had on his tool, when Jack asked the question.
"Why did you guys stop hanging with the children?"
His voice carried through the room, although his words were spoken in an even volume, and average tone. If listened, you could still hear the tinkering of toy creation on the floor below, but it was past Easter, both holidays didn't require immediate attention.
Bunny wished it did.
Then he wouldn't have been asked that question. Wouldn't have to think about it. Wouldn't have to answer.
But the question had been presented. In his usual, curious but with still a half smile, tone of voice.
North quietly retold his tale about how when he used to personally ask children what they wanted for Christmas, and how they got greedier and greedier and the stress of parents. Than, he happened to come across the path of a young girl, one who couldn't visit or write she was so poor. It got him thinking. And he worked harder for her, and to make special presents for those children, the less fortunate ones. It had started with one visit-less Christmas season, but then continued with another. And another.
At least that reason could be justified.
As Tooth starts talking about a young boy named Kyle, Aster thinks about his own reason. A young girl with thick dark hair, and hazel eyes. And freckles. She hated them; he found them adorable. The way she laughed, mostly due to her brother's antiques.
Ah, her brother. On the measuring tape, exactly five feet and seven inches. Mischievous smiles and perfect teeth. His dark hair was longer, yet still neat. Then, there were those eyes. Such a shade of blue that not even the master of painting, the Easter Bunny could replicate. He'd thought he'd lost them.
Until they stared at him, and Bunny remembered that this was the present and he'd attracted more than just the attention of those blue eyes.
"Well, old friend, what about you?", North asked the Pooka. His own blue eyes wide and full of the wonder he brought, but not matching his favorite shade. Hisshade.
"It's a long story, mate.", he replies, accent thick and heavy. He hopes that they'll realize he doesn't want to finish it. Heck, he doesn't want to start. But luck wasn't on his side when he hears that voice.
"We've got time."
And he knows it's Jack Frost. The trickster, the warrior, the winter child.
But he can't help but remember who also shared that voice. Those eyes, that wonder, dreams, and hope.
The older sibling of Emaline Jane Overland. The one who always drank his tea without sugar, and hated shoes with a passion. The one who taught him how to fly.
Jackson James Overland.
And that's the first chapter! Thank you for reading, please review and vote on my poll. By the way, yes I'm naming Jack's sister Emaline, but she hates that so she'll be called Emma. I don't know why, but she just... seems like an Emma. And I've really only seen her as Emma or Pippa, but I think Emma suits her more.
-Seraphina Smiles :)
