((We need seventy-four more gallons of paint on the floor, pronto!))
((Project four-hundred and sixty-three finished! Next group!))
((Get out of the way you little pests!))
((The model's melting! The model is melting!))
Ice blue eyes glanced up from time-worn pages as deep, guttural voices rang through the air spouting out orders and complaints as surprisingly dexterous hands quickly and efficiently assembled hundreds of delicate moving parts with skill that the modern world's most technologically advanced automated factories would never be able to match. Hundreds of thousands of toys, both simple and complex and each one bearing a touch of the workshop's magic were being assembled by the hairy hands of the bestial yetis even now, a mere month after Christmas had ended. The workshop was a wonder, polished red wood and wrought iron and gold hold seven floors of furious activity, magic and technology blended seamlessly into a sprawling atelier, the heart of which was the massive Globe of Belief.
The Globe itself was a work of art; cobalt seas parted golden continents that shimmered with millions of tiny, brilliant lights. It stood at the dead center of the workshop, visible on all levels including the high balcony where Jack Frost was perched, one leg swinging over the railing and shepherd's crook leaning against the wall within arm's reach. In his lap he held a large, leather-bound tome with an ornately stitched cover and yellow pages that smelled of herbs and ink. Every so often his eyes would flicker from the delicately penned script towards the Globe and the magically formed aurora borealis radiating from the gilded spire at its top.
It had been a fortunate coincidence that Jack had already been inside the workshop – Tome of the Guardians in hand – when North had sent the signal, though the old Cossack had yet to inform the youngest of their fold of the nature of the summons. The flurry of activity in the workshop never ceased, and as the rest of the Guardians had yet to arrive Jack had decided to finish reading the chapter he had been in the midst of when North had come bursting out of his office, cursing in Russian and activating the Northern Lights.
((Wrong, wrong, wrong! You got the wiring all mixed up! What will the boss say when he sees this, eh?))
That proved easier said than done, however. In the three years he had been a Guardian of Childhood Jack had grown used to the constant noise of the workshop. What he had yet to get used to was hearing the yetis' guttural language being translated directly into his head.
((Love? Jackie?))
Again, Jack's pale blue eyes left the tome in his lap, this time to meet the mismatched eyes of the tiny, humanoid creature perched comfortably atop his shoulder. Donned in sapphire blue feathers, the creature, much like Jack himself, radiated an aura of cold. Tiny crystals of ice decorated her already beautiful down and clung to her long, needle thin beak. A single white plume adorned the creature's forehead, complemented by thin, opalescent wings like those of a dragonfly.
((You haven't turned the page in a while.))
"Oh." Jack's eyes scanned the page. Ten minutes had passed since he had finished reading the text, yet none of it stuck. "Sorry Baby Tooth. It's kinda hard to concentrate with all the-" He paused, making a vague gesture with his free hand towards the workshop floors below. "-noise."
Nuzzling his cheek, the snow-fairy dubbed Baby Tooth assured Jack, ((You'll learn to tune it out eventually, Love.))
This earned a smile from the frost spirit and he stroked his companion's silver feather with his forefinger, much to her delight. Just as he was about to return to his reading, however, the main doors to the workshop burst open, a flurry of ice and snow flying in along with a blur of grey and white fur. A pair of yetis rushed to close the doors even as the seven-foot-tall humanoid rabbit – Pooka, Jack corrected himself – raced up the spiraling ramps towards the balcony where Jack made his perch, and the large fireplace that made up the largest part of the far wall.
"Hey Cottontail!" Jack called out, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Nice weather, huh?"
The Pooka, one E. Aster Bunnymund, sent Jack a withering glare as he came to a stop before the fireplace. Standing on one great paw, he held the other to the warm flames, massaging it gently but frantically in an effort to drive away the biting numbness.
"Oh stuff it, Frostbite."
The twittering of wings announced a second arrival. Baby Tooth perked up as her mother, the fairy queen Toothiana, arrived with three mini-fairies in tow. The mini-fairies immediately rushed to Jack's side, chirping in greeting, fawning over his teeth, and exchanging hugs with their frost-imbued sister. Their feathers, emerald and gold where Baby Tooth's were sapphire and silver, sparkled under the brilliant glow of the Globe of Belief making them appear as though they had been draped in gemstones.
"Oh Jack! You're early!" Toothiana cried as she descended through the roof.
She was at Jack's side in an instant, throwing her arms around his slender shoulders in a warm embrace, mindful though of the mini-fairies. Toothiana, as opposed to the fairy armies she commanded, stood no smaller than a human woman, though her body was draped in the same jewelescent feathers as her girls. Her eyes sparkled like a pair of amethysts and her head was crowned in blue and gold and green feathers.
"Eh, I was already hanging around," Jack replied with a halfhearted shrug. "Any idea what's going on?"
Toothiana replied with a mere shrug while behind her Bunny began to rant under his breath. Jack could only make out a few words, those few being 'blowhard,' 'freezing,' and 'belly,' along with several words a Guardian of Childhood had no business repeating.
"Whoa Bunny! You don't hang around kids with that mouth, do ya?"
"Rack off."
"Make me."
"Boys, enough!" Toothiana hovered between the two of them, never mind the fact that neither of the pair had moved from their spots on opposite ends of the balcony. Bunnymund rolled his verdant eyes and settled down before the fire, back turned quite deliberately to the youngest Guardian. Jack, similarly, turned his eyes away from the Pooka, returning his attention to the tome in his lap. He was unable, however, to stop his lips from curling into a wicked smirk as his eyes swept across the page.
"Hey, Bunny."
Bunnymund's ear twitched, but he otherwise gave no indication that he'd heard Jack.
"Did you really look like this way back when?"
Suddenly the Easter Bunny was alert, leaping to his large feet with his ears rigid and spinning to face Jack. His eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight of Jack holding the Tome of the Guardians open to a very detailed sketch of Bunnymund draped in a thick, ornate lab coat with spider-like optical lenses strapped to his head. Stiff. Prim. Proper. Very much the opposite of how he was now.
"Oi!"
With an indignant cry the Easter Bunny launched himself at Jack, though the snow sprite had been expecting such a reaction. With a playful laugh Jack snatched his staff from its resting place before propelling himself over the edge of the balcony, tome tucked safely under his arm. The Wind caught him before gravity could and carried him just out of Bunnymund's reach. Jack laughed again Bunnymund slammed his stomach against the rail in his frantic attempt to capture Jack and retrieve the tome.
"Can ya go five minutes without being a bloody nuisance ya gumby?"
"I'm the Guardian of Fun. You do know what fun is, don'tcha Bun Bun?"
"Enough, you two!" Toothiana's wings beat furiously as she hovered between the pair of bickering Guardians, silencing both Jack's laughter and Bunny's grumbling. Fixing the former with a pointed glare Toothiana held out one delicate hand.
"Now Jack, if you aren't going to settle down and read..."
With a sigh Jack handed her the tome, much to Bunnymund's visible relief.
"And Bunny!" His ears snapped up as he went stiff once again. "Cursing in front of a child? Shame on you," Toothiana scolded before flying off to return the tome to North's library. She remained unaware as Jack smirked at Bunnymund behind her back, mouthing the words 'shame on you' in parallel.
The Easter Bunny seethed in silence, turning his back once again to Jack Frost and the snickering fairy perched atop his shoulder.
The Sandman was the last of their fold to arrive. Like Toothiana he had traveled to the workshop via air, descending into North's realm in a massive hot air balloon crafted of golden dream-sand. The construct dissipated as the Guardian of Dreams touched down on the balcony alongside Bunnymund, Toothiana and Jack, each of whom welcomed him eagerly. The humanoid star answered each of them with a beaming smile and shifting shapes above his head written in his sand; a box topped with an elaborate ribbon, a long, smooth rod, and a question mark.
((North-pole-why?))
Jack struggled to keep his face neutral, though with everyone's attention on the fallen star no one would have noticed his discomfort anyway. The voice resounding in his head sounded far less human than the bestial noises the yetis made, and in truth didn't so much resemble words at all, but rather wordless thoughts filled with impressions of meaning. The sign representing North had carried with it the echo of a jolly laugh, the memory of wide, bright eyes sparkling with Wonder, and the faint scent of chocolate and pine needles that always wafted from his scarlet robe. The sensation was far from unpleasant and in fact brought a sense of comfort and warmth to Jack's otherwise cold body, but the Sandman's wordless voice was so alien that hearing it sent a rush of dizziness straight to the spirit's head and he was forced to lean most of his weight on the gnarled shepherd's crook in his hand.
The jingling of bells accompanied by the heavy fall of large boots interrupted whatever response Tooth or Bunny had prepared for the Sandman and announced the arrival of their host and a booming voice wrapped in a thick Russian accent cried out, "Ah, good. You are all here."
The leader of the Guardians, Nicholas St. North, only resembled his alias in passing, his title of 'Father Christmas' suiting him far better than 'Santa Claus'. A former Cossack bandit, North was both tall and wide, able to meet the willowy Pooka at eye level whenever their altogether too common arguments about Christmas and Easter broke out. His snow-white beard hung down to his large belly and his sky blue eyes peered out at his comrades from beneath bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows. North appeared to have already dressed for travel. Even under the red, fur-lined robe he wore Jack could see the hilts of two sabers tied to the sash around his waist.
The silly, clumsy, bell-wearing elves parted as North approached the rest of the Guardians, pointy hats and lolling tongues flopping in time with their bouncing steps. As he grew closer Bunnymund rose to his full height, ears slowly rising while Toothiana's wings went still and she lowered herself to her feet.
"North, what's wrong?" the fairy queen asked as she noted the shadow on her old friend's features. "Has something happened?"
Sandy created a question mark above his head and Jack was bombarded with: ((Concern-worry-desire to know-desire to help.))
Meeting Toothiana's eyes with a solemn stare North replied, "It is my mentor. He has seen signs of Pitch."
"Black sand and shadows?" Bunny said, attempting and failing to make light of the situation. "He normally takes centuries to recover. It hasn't even been a decade."
"I am aware, but I also trust my mentor's judgment. If Ombric says Pitch is making a move then I believe he is making a move."
Not one of the elder Guardians doubted Ombric. At the same time, none of them wanted to accept that Pitch had recovered so quickly either.
Fixing her normally peaceful features into the regal countenance of the Queen of Fairies, Toothiana asked, "What exactly did he see North?"
"Traces of black sand in his machines, shadows falling where they should not. Fearlings may be at work."
"Any clues to what Pitch's up to?" Bunny asked.
"Not so far but-"
As the elder Guardians became more absorbed in their conversation Jack took a few silent steps back. He let the Wind lift him silently to the railing where he knelt, watching passively and toying with the idea of sending a gust of cold air to douse the fire. Baby Tooth shifted on her perch, plucking at the crystals of frost that clung to Jack's sky-blue hoodie with fingers the width of a sewing needle.
Love, she whispered into his mind, followed by us-together-you-me-we-Love. Jack smiled, comforted as always by her presence and her unequivocal love for him. Unlike the Sandman's alien words, hearing Baby Tooth's real voice echo in his mind felt natural. It was no different to him from hearing his own thoughts; her feelings were his and vice versa.
((Jack-friend-lonely-come?))
Speaking of the Sandman...
The bombardment of star-speak nearly caught Jack off guard and he looked up just in time to see the last of the Sandman's signs fade. Even so the fallen star was beaming at him, gesturing for him to join the group even as the other three continued to literally talk over his head.
A small smile gracing his lips, Jack stood and hopped down from the railing. The movement caught the rest of the Guardians' attention and the conversation came to a slow, clumsy halt. Baby Tooth took to the air as she followed Jack as he stopped beside her mother-self who placed a consoling hand on Jack's shoulder.
"Sorry Jack," she offered. "We didn't mean to talk over you we just-"
"Forgot I was here?"
There was no bitterness in his voice, but Toothiana flinched anyway. Out of the corner of his eye Jack was aware of Bunnymund's ears flattening against his skull even as the stubborn Pooka carefully monitored the rest of his stance to keep it neutral. No one tried to insult him by denying what he fully knew to be true, but it was Jack who was regretting his words. It was hardly their fault, after all, that they had fallen into what had been routine for them for six hundred years.
"I was just kidding, it's no big deal," the snow spirit laughed, waving his hand as though to scatter his biting words like smoke. "So what's the plan? We charge in and send 'em running?"
"Nyet, first, we go to Big Root-" Nobody missed how Jack's face lit up. "-Then we investigate." North turned on his heel and began to march towards the giant, acorn-shaped elevator that connected the levels of the workshop. "Everyone, to the sleigh!"
Jack bounced on his heel, childish and eager. "Can I drive?"
Toothiana and Bunnymund shouted in unison. "NO!"
North occasionally reminded Jack of James Bond, only with better toys. The sleigh itself was incredible, a mesh between a snowmobile and an F-14 jet fighter, propelled by a combination of shag-furred, wild reindeer and a powerful rocket engine. Even more amazing, in Jack's opinion, were the colorful snow globes North kept in his coat. A single shake could create an extremely detailed model of whatever destination the user whispered to the glass out of thousands of swirling flakes of colored snow. This was what North did once his sleigh was airborne, and Jack only just caught a fleeting glimpse of a massive, gnarled tree inside the orb before North pitched it into the air ahead of them. The snow globe exploded into a swirl of color and light and the reindeer drove the sleigh through without so much as a pause.
The scene before them – the snowy peaks against the backdrop of sparkling stars and radiant lights – melted away, replaced by brilliant blue skies and rich greenery. Jack slid out of his seat and made himself comfortable on the wing, much to Bunnymund's dismay. Jack ignored the Pooka's panicked order for him to climb back inside the vehicle in favor of taking in the sights below.
Miles of forest stood between the bracken barrier and the Guardians' destination. A midst the trees Jack caught a fleeting glimpse of a bear, larger than any he had seen in his three hundred years of wanderings. As Big Root grew closer Jack also caught the eye of a woman standing in the dead center of a garden of ugly statues. The woman's green eyes glittered up at him, even over the distance and when Jack waved at her she waved back, spilling gold coins from her palms as she did.
"Uh, hey North," Jack shouted over the Wind, "Why does that woman have statues of your elves?"
North threw only a passing glance at the woman.
"Ah, is Spirit of Forest. Statues are not statues. Statues are intruders."
"Whoa."
The titanic oak tree dubbed Big Root by the Guardians stood at the heart of the forest. Its trunk rose miles into the air and was so thick around that Jack guessed one hundred people standing hand in hand wouldn't have been able to wrap themselves all the way around. The lush foliage nearly blocked out the sun, yet light still poured from glittering golden windows that appeared to have grown straight out of the wood of the trunk.
Bunnymund was first out of North's sleigh when they touched down in front of Big Root. Jack laughed at the Pooka as he very nearly hugged the ground before remembering himself and straightening his stance, sending Jack a withering glare for good measure. As the last of them climbed out of the sleigh the massive, curling roots of Big Root unfurled themselves from the base of the trunk, revealing a wide archway out of which stepped an old man draped in silver robes that were decorated with cogs and clockwork. He had a beard as long as his body. Thick, bushy eyebrows that looked like clouds that had been plucked from the sky and glued to his forehead and leaned his weight on a smooth, moon-colored staff with an old, ornate clock for its head..
"Nicholas!" the old man cried out, arms sweeping out in a grand motion as he welcomed his guests.
"Ah, Ombric! My old friend!"
North swept up the frail old man in a hug and Jack winced as he swore he heard something snap in the old man's body. But North settled the man back down and he appeared to be no worse for the wear.
((It has been far too long my apprentice. Tell me, how have you fared? And your workshop? I have heard wonderful things about it,)) the old man jibbered in Old Atlantian.
A merry laugh rumbled from North's belly which he patted on for emphasis.
((Am doing well with yetis' cooking. You should come to workshop sometime, have some cocoa.))
It was strange to hear a language so completely foreign that Jack wasn't even sure if he could replicate all of its sounds spoken with North's very obvious accent. North spoke Atlantian a just bit more clumsily than he did English.
((Ah, and who is this?))
Jack stood just a bit straighter as the old man's eyes fell on him. North instantly beamed at Jack, placing a burly hand on Jack's shoulder and giving him a light nudge in the old man's direction.
"This is our newest Guardian," North said with the tone of a father showing off his favorite son. "Jack, this is-"
"Ombric Shalazar," Jack cut North off, breath slightly short from excitement. He held out his free hand to North's mentor. "I read about you in the Tome of Guardians."
((Ah! You speak Atlantian very well!)) Ombric exclaimed as he shook Jack's hand. ((Perhaps you should work with my apprentice on that, eh? Between you and I, he sounds a bit out of practice.))
Jack laughed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as North parroted his mentor's words under his breath.
"Actually, ah, no. I don't," he admitted as a small weight shifted in Jack's hood and a moment later Baby Tooth was settling on his shoulder. Ombric's eyes went wide in amazement.
"Jack Named her," Toothiana explained as Ombric took in the sight of the silver-blue fairy with swirls of frost not unlike the ones clinging to Jack's clothing and staff. The wizard stroked his beard with twig-like fingers in a manner that reminded Jack very much of Merlin from the animated Sword and the Stone.
((Ah, I see. The fairy received Winter Magic, and you in turn received the Gift of Tongues,)) he mused, more to himself than anyone else. ((This is quite fascinating. I honestly cannot remember the last time I have seen a bond like this formed. You must be a very special young man.))
Biting the urge to point out that he was well over three-hundred years old, Jack nodded and said, "Thank you."
((Now come! All of you!)) Ombric made a grand sweeping motion with his hands and gestured for the Guardians to enter the archway in the base of Big Root. ((Please, come in and make yourselves comfortable. There is much to discuss, not all of it good.))
As large as the trunk looked from the outside, it seemed infinitely larger on the inside. A small part of Jack had expected the inside of Big Root to resemble the tree house from the Keebler Elves cookie commercials. Indeed, much of the furniture appeared to have been grown rather than made, the wood jutting from the floor and walls to create natural shelves, tables and chairs. But there was a mechanical quality to it too, brass work cogs and gears serving as decorations and clocks of every size, shape and style covering the walls and shelves. The ticking of thousands of clocks merged with the hum of insects – all of which rang in Jack's head as a million whispering voices scrambling to be heard over one another. The result was a constant drone that had little to no meaning to the Winter spirit aside from an overall sense of panic.
Ombric led the Guardians up, up, and up a winding staircase, high above where the clouds hung in the sky. The three airborne Guardians faced little difficulty with the steep climb, nor did the surprisingly hardy Father of Time. Bunnymund grumbled a bit, but the eons-old rabbit had the stamina and musculature to withstand the brutal climb.
"Bah!" North huffed as the group ascended to the seventy-third level. "Too many stairs! Is time you invested in elevator!" The Guardian of Wonder's face had gone red and his breath came out in heavy pants.
((Son, if you would just lay off of the Christmas cookies you would not be having this problem.))
"There is no problem with Christmas cookies!" North protested. "I am fit as an ox! Am just needing there to be fewer stairs."
((This is what you get for spoiling yourself with those gadgets you fancy.)) Ombric paused as they reached the end of the staircase, beneath a gilded star-sand window. With a wave of his hand Ombric unlatched the window and climbed through, leading the Guardians after him.
Midst the highest branches of Big Root stood a massive observatory, bronze plates worked almost organically around the branches that had grown naturally into the domed roof. The cavernous space was lit by eight torches posted evenly along the wall and alight with cold, blue flame. Four massive clockwork telescopes made of polished brass and moonstone were arranged around the room so that each pointed in a different Cardinal direction through the weaves of branches which grew around the lengths of the scopes. The centerpiece of the room was a machine the likes of which Jack had never seen. He kind of thought it looked like a giant teapot, if he squinted and turned his head just so. Levers and gears jutted out from the mass of curling metal almost at random. Nine mirrors were suspended on a dial which freely rotated around a large glass container shaped like a flower bud.
"Wow," Jack breathed, immediately flying ahead of the group to get a closer look at the bizarre contraption.
Upon closer inspection he found that the mirrors were not mirrors at all, or at least they didn't work like normal mirrors. In the glossy surface of one he saw a tiny girl with a mane of wild red hair and holding a toy bow follow a trail of wisps into the shadows of a forest. Another showed a woman wearing a lavender gown with impossibly long golden hair running barefoot through a grassy field while a dour-looking man watched. In another he saw two young sisters playing in a grand ballroom... filled with snow. Baby Tooth seemed to especially like the last one, floating from Jack's shoulder to get a better look as the elder sister transformed the floor into a skating rink.
((Ah, you like that do you?)) the Atlantian sorcerer asked as he approached Jack. ((This is my pride and joy. With this I am able to watch unfold as they have in ages past, or as they will in ages yet to come.))
"So it's a time machine?" Jack asked without removing his eyes from the image.
((Yes, and also I fear the Pitch's target in my home. It is here that I have seen the unusual shadows, and sometimes I will return to find the settings have been changed overnight, without my overseeing them.))
A solemn silence fell over the room and Baby Tooth retreated back into Jack's hood, remembering sourly her last encounter with the King of Nightmares. In the mirror Jack watched as the sisters' game took a similar dark turn, the elder accidentally striking the younger with a blast of ice in a moment of panic.
"How did Pitch even get in?" Toothiana asked. "Why didn't the star sand-glass keep him out?"
((I do not know that it has not,)) Ombric admitted. ((All I have seen thus far are shadows, and only at night. Still, I did not wish to take chances.))
Over on the other side of the room from where Jack and Ombric stood Bunnymund gave an approving nod.
"Good call mate."
The Pooka's eyes were fixed on something on the floor, and as North approached he saw Bunny scraping something off of the wood with his nails. Black sand.
"When was the last time you saw Pitch?"
((The Nightmare King himself? Six hundred years ago. His minions? I believe this morning, just before the sun rose.)) Ombric stroked his beard. ((That is, assuming it was a Fearling and not a silly moth playing near the torches.))
"And what exactly did you see?"
((At first, nothing. I came up here because of a moth complaining that there was something wrong with the lights. I thought she just meant they were going low, but when I got up here they were burning as strongly as ever, flickering and dancing as flames are wont to do. The shadows, however, did not move an inch. It was as though they were frozen in time.))
Signs flashed above the Sandman's head; the silhouette of the boogeyman, two streams of sand that shot out of his ears like smoke, a boxing-glove striking the silhouette, and two hands with their pinky fingers intertwined.
((Pitch-anger-defeat-promise.))
Jack and Baby Tooth exchanged looks before turning their eyes to the floor and their own shadows. Shifting so that he was standing in front of the torch sconce, Jack observed the way his shadow flickered and spun in time with the cold flame. Vaguely, he remembered being trapped inside Pitch Black's realm with the Nightmare King himself slinking through the shadows, taunting him. Jack was proud of himself for suppressing the shudder that threatened to work its way up his spine.
"And you have seen other such things?" North asked, bushy brows furrowed.
((Many times over the past few days,)) Ombric replied gravely. ((I have tried everything I could to banish them, but not even the brightest light seems to have any effect.))
"Then we'll take a crack at it," Jack said, flashing the old wizard a playful grin. "C'mon, how hard could it be?"
This earned a chuckle from Ombric.
((Very, but I like your enthusiasm.))
Again, Ombric made a grand sweeping gesture with his arms. He seemed rather fond of grand sweeping gestures, Jack thought. Maybe it was a wizard thing.
((Come, let us all rest. Out enemy is most active at night and so we must also be thus!))
Once upon a time Big Root had been a center of learning open to any and all who had an honest desire to study under Ombric Shalazar's guidance. Time had seen that period of Big Root's history ended. Had it just been a matter of belief dying out, Ombric's teachings might have nonetheless survived, if not flourished. But the witch trials had seen Big Root's doors barred forever to the mortal world, Father Time taking a more indirect approach in the guiding and teaching of children.
As such, the sleeping quarters that had once been occupied by Ombric's wards now stood empty, ready for the Guardians to lay their heads. The wooden frames of the bunk beds – as the rest of the furniture inside of Big Root – appeared to have been grown into their current shapes rather than made. The mattresses were stuffed with giant snow-goose feathers and the sheets made from spun glowworm-silk. The eldest four Guardians laid down in the offered beds appreciatively, Toothiana directing her three accompanying fairies to take over operations in her stead and the ever-present streams of dream-sand rising from Sandy's sleeping form. Sleep took them almost immediately despite the fact that each of them – save for Sandy – was used to getting by on very little sleep. Only Jack hung back from the offered respite.
((You will be needing your rest,)) Ombric insisted, urging him forward.
"I know, but..." Jack trailed off, not quite sure how to explain it without coming across as incredibly pathetic.
((Are these rooms not to your liking?)) the old wizard offered. ((I have other rooms with equally comfortable beds, if you are uncomfortable with the company.))
"It's not that," Jack insisted while Baby Tooth shot him a pitying look from his shoulder. From anyone else, he would have been offended. "I just, uh... I'm not really used to sleeping in beds."
Jack braced himself for the 'oh, poor Jack' routine. He had received it from the other Guardians, Toothiana especially. Only Sandy seemed understanding, and while Jack was comfortable enough dozing off in the fallen star's cloud of dream-sand from time to time the other three had yet to give up their plans of forcing him to sleep in a bed like a civilized human being.
((Oh, well in that case...)) Ombric clapped his hands. Before Jack could ask the obvious question he heard a sound like the stretching of taffy and a bulging shape sprouted from the otherwise smooth wall above them. The shape stretched, lengthened, grew more spindly appendages, and then began to sprout pale green wisps of leaves.
Jack stared at the newly grown tree branch, mouth agape, while Ombric turned on his heel and slipped out the door.
((Sleep well, Jack.))
Ombric woke the Guardians just after sunset. Where the never ending tick-tock-tick-tock had been irritating by daylight – Jack had been prematurely woken by it three times already – it was downright creepy in the dark of night. The clamoring of the insects did little to lessen the effect; the overall atmosphere was eerie and Jack found himself wondering if this was really the same place he had read about in the Tome of the Guardians.
Only the blue-green glow of the magically lit torches kept the darkness at bay, though watching the shadows dancing in the unnatural light was far from reassuring. Still, Jack supposed, better that the shadows were moving rather than lying in wait ready to pounce as Ombric had described. Baby Tooth whispered similar sentiments into his ear.
The observatory looked much the same as it had when they had seen it in the daylight, save that inky black shadows clung to the walls. Jack was not sure whether or not to be relieved to find the shadows were behaving as shadows normally did, flicking and jumping in sync with the dancing torchlight.
((It may be hours yet before the Fearlings or strange shadows appear,)) Ombric pointed out. ((It was just before sunrise the last I saw them myself.))
"We're used to pulling all-nighters, mate," Bunnymund pointed out. To emphasize his point he gestured to Sandy who even then was directing his streams of dream-sand which passed through the star-sand windows as though they were no more than air.
Even so, the hours passed slowly. Tsar Lunar made his ascent into the night sky, though he went unseen by the Guardians. At some point Toothiana had begun muttering to herself, rattling off a never ending list of teeth to be retrieved and gifts to be left, never mind the fact that her faeries were overseeing themselves for the time being. Bunnymund took a single unpainted egg from one of the leather pouches strapped to his furry chest, a paintbrush and some small vials of paint from another, and began to painstakingly decorate the blank shell. Still, his nose never ceased twitching and his ears swiveled this way and that, ever alert even with his intense focus.
Jack was finding it far more difficult to keep himself occupied. He paced the room, frosted the windows, poked and prodded Bunnymund until the Pooka snapped at him, played a rousing game of 'eye spy' with Baby Tooth (made redundant by their shared thoughts) and eventually settled on watching the scenes in the dials of the time machine.
Ombric was in and out of the observatory all night. He walked the entirety of his home, he said, just in case the Fearlings took note of the Guardians' presence and made their rest elsewhere in Big Root. Every so often the old wizard returned to check on the observatory, not appearing to be in the slightest bit reassured when nothing changed. Once when he checked up on them he brought with him a tray holding several mugs of tea and cocoa – tea for the adult Guardians and, he insisted, North, and cocoa for Jack and for Baby Tooth to whom he served the drink in the cap of an acorn.
"Thank you," Jack said as he and his fairy accepted their drinks. The crackling sound of frost climbing over the mug filled the air the moment Jacks' fingers touched the ceramic, and slowly the curling tail of steam that rose from the brown liquid faded from view. Ombric watched intently as Jack took his first sip of the now cool liquid, eyes slightly wide. Jack did not have to try hard to pretend he didn't notice; the moment the drink hit his tongue he nearly forgot that the elder was there at all.
The chocolate was rich and smooth, and tasted like wintergreen and snow-filled air. The flavor brought to mind images of snowball fights and frosted windows and icicles sparkling in pale morning sunlight. Jack's nostrils stung with the same crisp coldness that Winter air brought, a sensation he found far from unpleasant.
"This is amazing!" he cried, unable to put to words quite how amazing it was. Ombric chuckled, obviously pleased by the inarticulate praise.
((From the looks of things, it seems your tiny companion quite agrees.))
Indeed, Baby Tooth had drained her cup completely and was holding the ice-rimmed acorn cap out to Ombric as though to say 'seconds please.' Jack plucked the acorn cap from her fingers and refilled it from his own drink as Ombric went on.
((I acquired the recipe from my dear friend Bunnymund, though I admit to experimenting with it a bit.))
Without looking up from his egg Bunnymund huffed, and muttered something about humans.
((I had assumed that it would be better hot, but you seem to like it just fine as it is, eh?))
"I've never had anything more delicious," Jack admitted. Then, looking over his shoulder to the Guardian of Wonder, he added, "No offense North."
North ignored him in favor of grumbling over his tea.
Jack turned back to the image in the time machine's dial, continuing to sip his cocoa as he did. The image this time showed a boy, short and thin with a light dusting of freckles across his face and a shaggy mess of brown hair. The boy in the image was falling through the air, wind rippling his hair and green woolen tunic as he plummeted towards the ocean miles below, though the look on his face was one of pure elation. Mere moments before the boy would have hit the rocky waves a streak of black cut through the air and the boy was rising again, now seated in a streamlined saddle strapped to the back of a creature both feline and reptilian in appearance.
((It is rather fascinating, is it not? How much of history the world has forgotten?)) Ombric murmured. ((Nobody today knows of the dragon-riders among the viking tribes, and yet here we see them, plain as day.))
The boy in the mirror joined a group of other teens, each of whom also rode a dragon, though not a one rode the same species unless you counted the lanky, blond-haired brother and sister who each rode atop a head of the same two-headed reptile.
"I thought vikings didn't actually wear horned helmets?" Jack's statement came across as more of a question. Of the teens shown in the image, only two weren't wearing helmets, and those that did had very prominent horns worked into the metal.
((The vast majority did not, it is true,)) Ombric explained. ((But in a tribe of dragon riders? Of course they would include as much draconic imagery in their dress and their crafts as possible.))
"Do you watch them a lot?" Jack asked without taking his eyes off of the screen. A second boy, much burlier than the first with darker hair, attempted to imitate the first boy's stunt with little success; Jack forced himself to stifle a laugh as the rust-colored, serpentine dragon with the dark, crooked horns and massive wings continued to fly, not noticing its riders absence.
((Oh yes. As much as I adore books, they can only teach me so much, and most of the information contained within is not first hand. It is much better to watch history unfold myself, and, I must admit, a great deal more entertaining.))
Jack nodded in agreement and took another sip of his cocoa.
Another hour passed. By the time Jack had finished his drink he had grown bored even of watching the images in the time machine's mirrors. In fact, he found himself not caring to do much of anything at all, except to sit cross-legged on the floor and listen to the insects' prattle.
A similar lethargy seemed to fall over the other Guardians. From Sandy it was almost expected, and not altogether a problem as the little dream weaver could work even in his sleep. From the others, it was a bit funny. Already North was snoring loudly enough that he almost entirely blocked out the never ending drivel of the insects. Toothiana was leaning against him, using his large belly as a pillow. Only Bunnymund remained semi-conscious, though his half-painted egg lay abandoned on the floor and his head was constantly bobbing, jolting upright every few minutes as he struggled to stay awake.
'I should wake them up,' Jack thought, yet he made no move to do so. He had told himself several times already that he would, yet he simply found himself unable to muster up the motivation to do much of anything.
((I want some more,)) Baby Tooth whined for the umpteenth time.
"Mm-hmm," Jack replied, not really listening.
((It was really tasty.))
"Yeah."
((I bet the bugs would like some too.))
"Probably."
((Where do you think they are?))
Jack blinked. He sat up a little straighter, clutching his staff tighter in his grip as he did. Glancing around the room, he once again took in the sight of the sleeping and half-sleeping Guardians. This time, the sight set off warning bells.
"Where are the insects?" he murmured aloud.
From the Tome of the Guardians he had expected the lunar moths and glowworms and spiders to be prominent within Big Root. Only now did it seem strange to him that while he had heard their voices whispering and hissing at him from the walls, he had not seen even one.
"Where is Ombric?"
Baby Tooth blinked at him sluggishly, as though he were speaking gibberish. This was wrong; her mind and his both felt sluggish. Baby Tooth's thoughts swam with yum-good-warm-sleep-do-obey-sleep-obey-obey...
The warning bells ringing in Jack's head suddenly turned into a siren. Clumsily he reached for Baby Tooth who hardly reacted when he plucked her up from her seat on the floor next to him, though Jack was sure he was holding her a bit too tightly, and whose head lolled as he tried to place her in his hood as gently as possible with his fingers feeling like lead.
"Bunny? Hey, Bunny?"
The Pooka did not react. Jack stood, a bit too quickly if the way the room seemed to spin was any indication, and made his way unsteadily towards the only other conscious Guardian.
"Hey, Cottontail, get up. I think something's wrong..." Jack trailed off as he neared the Guardian of Hope.
Bunnymund's eyes were open, but they seemed wrong. Distant. His head was bowed, no longer bobbing and his ears and nose were still. Tentatively, Jack reached out to shake his friend's shoulder. The moment he had touched the Pooka, however, Bunnymund slumped over, hitting the ground with a loud thump and staying there, dead asleep.
"Whaaat's goin' on?" Jack mumbled. His tongue felt like it had been carved of wood and his lips like they were made of rubber. "Bayee Toof?"
He received no response from the frost fairy nestled in his hood.
The drone of the invisible insects increased in volume, thousands of tiny voices screeching at him in hundreds of languages – moth, worm, beetle, ant, spider, gnat... Jack held his head, trying to stop the room from spinning.
((BadbadverybadwhispermumbleshoutrunhidefleeescapewhisperwhisperhissBlackherehissmumblewhispergogogo!))
"Jack?"
A single voice cut through the din, old and familiar. Jack blinked a bit stupidly, trying to focus and realizing only when he felt a spindly hand on his shoulder that he was still staring at the unconscious form of Bunnymund.
"Jack, is everything well?"
"Nnnnnnhhnn..." Jack's reply trailed off into a slurred whine. Ombric wrapped his other hand around Jack's shoulders, assisting the young immortal in turning to face him as Jack found his limbs refusing to work as they should.
"Oh, you poor boy," Ombric purred, and there was some thing wrong and familiar about his voice but whatever it was stayed just firmly out of reach. Jack allowed himself to be lead from Bunnymund's side, even as his instincts were screaming at him to react, that there was something wrong with this whole thing, that there was something familiar about the spider-like hand resting on his back...
"Here, you look absolutely exhausted," Ombric was saying, though his voice sounded hollow. "Why don't you sit down and rest a bit?"
Jack nodded in spite of the wrongness because sitting seemed like a very good thing and standing made his head hurt...
((RunbadgetoutbadshushwhispermurmermumbleBlackPitchBlackPitchBlackPitchBlack...))
"Zzzzuggz?"
Ombric ignored Jack's incoherently slurred inquiry and continued to lead him to the... something. Jack blinked. Was that a giant teapot? When had that gotten there?
Dimly Jack was aware of something tugging at his staff. Even in his lethargic state Jack tensed, fingers digging into the frost-rimmed wood out of habit. A faint sigh tickled his ear and the tugging stopped, though Jack's grip remained fast. Suddenly Jack heard a mechanical hiss and an intense white light blossomed in the near-darkness. He snapped his eyelids shut, tears streaming from their corners as Ombric continued to lead him forwards.
((PitchBlackPitchBlackPitchBlackPitchBlackPitchBlackPitchBlack...))
Jack heard the insects' cry now, clear as day, but the words simply did not register. They were meaningless. Cautiously he peeked his eyes open, snapping them shut almost instantly as he realized that the intense white light was now surrounding him on all sides. Somewhere through the haze of his mind Jack was aware of someone talking to him, the voice confident, pleased. The voice was... reassuring him? Promising to come back for him? Jack was unsure. He offered the invisible voice a smile and a vague nod.
Then the white disappeared and he was falling.
(Author's Note: So, I've been a Hijack fan for while now, so obviously I enjoy reading a lot of Hijack fanfiction. From what I've read, that isn't AU, that is, many people like to have the two boys meet when Jack has just become a spirit in viking times. Thing is, viking times were about seven hundred to a thousand years before Jack was born. On top of which, Jack and Hiccup are always perfectly capable of speaking to one another in these fanfictions, but as far as I know, Jack doesn't speak Norse. Granted, a lot of things about HTTYD are not historically accurate - the thing with the horned helmets, Jack pointed out in this chapter, and also Hiccup and his friends are not considered adults in Berk, yet in the viking era people were expected to marry as young as fourteen. Still, I thought I should at least address these two things in my story. This takes place in between the two movies, but will include a five year time skip (much, much later). It won't follow the Riders of Berk series exactly, but it will be rather close, with very obvious episode references. Certain episodes I may gloss over as Jack's presence wouldn't have changed them so much that they would be worth reading as opposed to just watching the episode.
Also wanna be the first to admit that I am in no way an expert on Viking culture. Granted, Vikings weren't a singular group of people to begin with, but even so. I wanted the islands and the cultures in this story to be a little more Viking-like than just 'we wear fur and horned helmets and like to fight.' I do my research and incorporate some things, but I know for a fact that I WILL get some things wrong. And some things I might twist a little bit or a lotta bit just to suit the fictional world. I figure anything that isn't quite right could be attributed to some facet of Berk's own unique culture.
So, that's all I have to say about that. I hope you enjoy, and if you do - or even if you don't and just want to tell me what I did wrong - please leave a review. Have a good one!)