Névé
Burgess was a river town, established in 1798. It wasn't the most remarkable town, filled with pioneers, farmers, and shepherds who had moved from Europe to gain a new start and new land, but there was something special about the place. So special, in fact, that it caught North's eye, but at first not in the good way.
Despite what kind of weather there was all winter, it always snowed on Christmas Eve. That by itself might be unremarkable to a regular human, but North always found it a bit annoying to have to drive through the snow every winter. And speaking of which, Burgess and the surrounding areas had rough winters every single year that lingered on into spring (to the chagrin of Bunnymund). However, perhaps the oddest thing about Burgess was that no one seemed to mind. The young ones frolicked and played until their cheeks were rosy, noses were runny, and their mothers forced them home, the teens fell in love, with faces pressed together and kissing under the gentlest touch of a snowflakes, even the adults and old folks rolled their eyes and joked with neighbors as they shoveled out their doors. Winter was special in Burgess, and always had been.
It was on a chilly winter night when North had gotten a distress call from the town of Burgess. A sprite had been causing some trouble, and North had been sent to straighten out. The work was easy, and he sent the rather terrified sprite upon its way, but not before something strange happened as it started snowing. Deep in the woods, North could have sworn he heard a bubbling laugh of a child, which floated out of the darkness like a song. North felt the stirring of concern for the child, it was the coldest night of the year, and certainly the child would get sick if he stayed out, or even freeze to death if the storm got stronger than a small flurry. So, straightening out his hat and buttoning up his coat, North ventured into the Burgess Woods.
The woods were beautiful, the bark of trees was frosted over, and branches hung with ice, and on the ground lay undisturbed powder. In the silence, the wind stirred the heavily laden branches making them sigh. For a moment North considered turning back, sure that he had made up the laugh, but it continued again like the chiming of bells, and North continued forward.
By the time he reached the break in the trees, North was almost sweating with exertion. However he was stopped by the sight of a boy, gliding across a completely frozen over pond. The boy was dancing and laughing across the ice, twirling and spinning with inhuman grace, his clock flapping out in a circle, a shepherd's crook in one hand. Either he didn't notice, or see North, because he continued to skate with such childlike joy that it stirred North's heart.
Knowing he had to stop the boy for his own good, North cleared his voice rather loudly, making the boy stop. The boy cast North a look, before continuing albeit with a bit more of a sour expression. Tired of being ignored, North greeted him,
"Hello, child. What are you doing out here so late in the night?" North greeted him, and the boy tripped over his feet at the bank, dropping his crook upon the ice, and watched almost helplessly as it skidded across the surface. North was surprised at his expression, caught somewhere between wonder, shock, and sadness. The boy got to his feet slowly, getting his staff from the ground and standing in front of North so he could truly look at him. His hair was as white as new fallen snow, while his eyes were the shocking blue of freshly frozen water. His lips were the sort of purplish blue the one achieved when out in the winter weather for hours at a time, while his skin was deathly pale, so pale it was almost scary for North to behold. He was thin and gangly, no older than fifteen or sixteen, and was wearing a white blouse, animal skin vest and cloak, and pants, but no shoes or socks. He leaned against his crook his hands clutching it as if life depended on it.
"Can you…can you see me?" The boy croaked, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time. North almost frowned at this reaction, but continued to smile anyways.
"Normally it is I asking that very same question, my friend. But yes, I can see you. Tell me what it is you are doing out here so late." North said, before nearly jumping out of his skin as the boy laughed a hysterical laugh, he fell to the ground, laughing so hard that tears welled up in his eyes and to North's horror froze over upon his cheeks. The boy just brushed them off as if they were nothing.
"You can see me, you can actually see me!" He exclaimed, jumping up and down, his eyes filled with such joy, "No one ever sees me!"
The boy reached out to touch North's jacket, and North almost yelped. Frigid cold soaked into his skin, and frost crusted over his jacket. However the boy was completely taken with the fact that he could actually touch North, and pulled back his hand and smiled.
Realization dawned on North quickly. This was no child; this was a spirit or sprite of some kind. Maybe of the woods, maybe not. In any case, North smiled back at the spirit.
"My name is North. You may know me as Santa Claus. Who are you, my friend? A sprite…or spirit?" North asked the boy, who smiled yet again.
"I'm Jack Frost. The Spirit of Winter."
"A winter spirit?" North asked doubtfully, and Jack Frost seemingly scowled, leaning against his staff.
"No. Spirit of Winter. 'Of' being the key word." Jack said leaning against his staff, before walking and slightly kicking at the snow. "What's a guy got to do to get some credit around here?"
"Spirit of Winter is big job. Who told you that you are the Spirit of Winter?" North asked the spirit, who sighed and looked up in the sky, at the Moon.
"The Moon told me. Of course, that's all he ever told me." Jack said with a sigh, before he smiled again, "But it's nice to know that there are others like me out there."
If only you knew. North thought to himself, before clapping a hand on Jack Frost's shoulder. "Jack, if you ever happen to be at the North Pole, come to Santoff Clausen. I treat you to eggnog and cookies."
"You got yourself a deal." Jack said, shaking North's gloved hand. A kinship was being formed between them, one of fellow Winter spirits and friends.
Somehow, North knew he would be getting a visitor very soon.
Much later in the future, Jack Frost was sitting with the other guardians, laughing as he twirled out of Bunnymund's grasp with a cowboy hat in his hand from the toyshop. North came in from his workshop, and Jack sat up and placed the hat upon his head, that bubbling laugh erupting from his throat like the first time they had met.
"North, where's the eggnog?" He asked, the cowboy hat upon his head slightly askew, his eyes twinkling with the mischief of a child during a snowball fight, before Phil the Yeti yanked it off his head. Tooth laughed at Jack's exaggerated reaction, Sandy smiled, and Bunnymund grumbled and pretended to be upset.
North had always known Jack Frost was special, and as Jack Frost's laugh bounced through Santoff Clausen, anyone could tell, Jack Frost would never be the lonely child in the woods ever again.
SO. MANY. FEELS. Jack, marrymenowgoddamnit.
Névé is young, granular snow that has been partially melted, refrozen and compacted.
The more you know.