An explanation: I wrote this first snippet as a one-shot for a prompt on the Dreamweaver ROTG kink meme. There's since been a request for a continuation and, since the plot bunnies ran away with my mind and plotted out a whole long-ish story, I figured I'd go ahead and de-anon this part before posting the rest. So think of this first chapter as a one-shot or prologue, and the rest of the story will come after. Okay? Okay.

Warnings: Mpreg non-explicitly referenced throughout. Major character death. Also, this is the RotG equivalent of a Key Visual Arts game. If you are not here to cry, you should turn around now. Okay? Okay.

First Frost

"Dad! Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad!"

E. Aster Bunnymund was up to his elbows in dye-pollen and paints when two of his three children came bounding over the grassy hill, calling for his attention. The third – Coralberry, his quiet little runt of the litter – lay on her stomach with him in the grass, carefully trying to replicate his delicate swirls on an egg of her own.

"There you go, love," said Aster encouragingly, ignoring the shouts for a moment to gently guide his daughter's hand. "Just a little lighter on the stroke and…yeah, that's the way. Gonna be a real beaut, that one."

Coralberry beamed, happily wriggling her little black nose which, like the gray fur of her paws and ears, was stained with pink paint.

"Da-ad!" The squealing from the hillside grew closer and more insistent, almost right on top of them now. "Look what I can do! Dad, look!"

Aster counted to ten before lifting his head, because Kaffir desperately needed to learn some patience. The white buck buzzed with excitement, literally, hopping in place to the irritation of the silver-furred sister who trailed behind. Jasmine rolled her forest green eyes and huffed, shaking the pale ruff around her neck. "Don't encourage him, Daddy. Kaffie's making a mess."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are too! You got it all over the glitter pool!"

"Got what all over the what now?" Normally it was the glitter that got all over, not the other way around. Bunny straightened, leaving Coral to her eggs and patting colored pollen from his haunches. He shuffled a bit nearer to the larger pair of kits, flicking his ears towards his egg-white son. "All right, buck, I'm lookin'. What've you got this time?"

Kaffir grinned a wild, mischievous grin and drew himself up proudly. He took a deep and steady breath as though about to begin a kata, held it for count of ten, and gave the ground a good hard thump with his hind leg. With an instant burst of frigid cold, the moisture in the air turned to patterns of spiraling ferns that clung to the grass and froze there, delicate and bright.

Frost.

Breath caught in Bunnymund's throat. There hadn't been frost in the Warren since…since…

Kaffir whooped, bounded into the air, and began leaping circles around his family, bouncing off the nearby trees, rocks, mounds, and egg sentinels. Everywhere his paws touched another burst of spiraling frost appeared, crisp and sparkling in the warren's light, twisting protectively around every petal, stalk, trunk, and root.

Jasmine wailed in distress as a sudden quick turn sprayed her fur with ice. She shook it off, squealing, crouched protectively over the tiny nest of egg-plant seedlings she'd dug in this morning. "Daddy! Make him stop. He's ruining everything."

"Am not!" Kaffir tried to stop, only to produce a slick of ice that sent his own paws skidding out from under him. He slid across it until his rump hit a tree-root and sent him toppling tail over tea-kettle into the grass. He hopped back in an instant and stuck his tongue out at his sister, an action that required his entire body curling over the root as though about to pounce. "You're just jealous. Right, Dad?"

Bunnymund couldn't reply. He tried, but no words would come. His chest puffed rapidly, failing to keep up with his pounding heart. His paintbrush lay abandoned. The egg he'd been working on cracked in his paw.

Twenty years. Dear MiM, had it really been twenty years?

Coralberry, always the most sensitive of the three, picked up on her father's distress right off. She pawed at his leg, leaving streaks of fuchsia all along his fur. "Daddy? What's wrong?"

Aster shook his head, wanting to tell her that nothing was wrong, that everything would be fine. But he couldn't. His mind had been thrown decades into the past, back to the beginning of their family. Seeing that ball of white fur and energy bounding about, laughing, playing, adding a hint of winter's protective chill to their warm and cozy home…it was almost like seeing Jack again.

Almost.

"Is it bad?" asked Jasmine. "It's bad, isn't it?" The doe drummed her foot and ground her teeth in agitation. "I knew it, I knew it. I told you, Kaffie. I told you not to do it!"

Kaffir whimpered. He curled over his front paws and stared up at his father with those brilliant, beautiful ice-blue eyes.

Aster swallowed around the lump in his throat. He did it again. On the third try, the managed to croak, "No. It's not bad. Not bad at all."

He hopped silently across the grass and pulled Kaffir into a tight hug. He buried his nose in kitten-soft white fur and breathed deep, filling his lungs with the crisp, clean scent of winter that lay beneath the earthy paints and cocoa beans. He'd half-convinced himself that he'd been imagining it all this time, but now he knew. It was there, it was real.

Tiny, hesitant, ice-cold paws curled into his fur as Kaffir pressed his face into his father's chest. "I'm sorry Dad," he whispered, on the verge of tears. "I won't do it again, I promise."

Bunny shushed him, nuzzling soft white ears. "No, Kaf. It's all right. More than all right. It's wonderful. Do it as much as you want." It was in his blood, after all.

"No." Kaffir sniffled. "It's bad."

"It's not bad."

"If it's not bad then why are you crying?"

"'M not crying." A lie, though not from lack of trying. Tears trickled down his muzzle, lost in the fur.

Someday, he knew, he would have to tell his children the truth. He would tell them how their dam had carried them and loved them even though he knew the start of their lives meant the end of his own. How the Man in the Moon had tried to persuade Jack otherwise and been rebuffed, forbidden to tell their fellow Guardians until it was too late. How losing a second mate nearly killed Aster and it was only because of Tooth and Sandy and North and his kits – his screaming, fighting, aggravating, beautiful kits – that he'd been able to go on.

Someday, Aster would tell them everything. But not yet. Even after twenty years, the pain was still too fresh.

He closed his eyes and thought of Jack until a smile finally wormed onto his face. Then he pulled away and gently bumped his nose against his son's. "Let's paint some eggs, yeah? After that we'll go up-top to the Pole and pester North. All four of us. Sound fun?"

Kaffir sniffed, but nodded yes, because he'd always loved North's workshop most of all. Jasmine stomped her foot and began to whine again about how Kaffir got away with everything, until Coral managed to placate her with a ready-to-paint egg dyed her favorite shade of green. As Aster sat back and watched them at their work, he thought – not for the first time, and certainly not for the last – how proud Jack would be to see their children now.

A/N: Kaffir lilies, jasmine, and coralberries are all plants that flower at some point during the winter, hence the series title "Frost Flowers." I thought it was appropriate. I also figure that Pooka kits grow much slower than humans, so even though it's been twenty years the kits are still pretty young. Exactly how young will be cleared up in the next chapter.