I didn't have an author's note on the first one. I'm gonna pretend it's because I just wanted you to have the story, and not because I forgot …
Anywho, I've started this new story when I have a billion others to write. But this one is going relatively quickly, so this is good. I watched ROTG a few weeks ago, and just got into the fanfiction part of it … and was rather irritated with what was there (no offense if other ROTG authors are reading this). So I wrote this.
Co-written and beta'd by the lovely abitofslytherin. Honestly, half the concept details of this came from her. So yeah. Enjoy!
Approximately 2,500 years later …
Lithia Summers
Lounging in the palm tree that I had claimed as my perch a few hours earlier, I flipped the drachma idly through my fingers- a skill I had well perfected over the centuries. As the small coin rolled down my index finger, I tossed it upwards and caught it on the tip of my pinky. It balanced there for a few seconds before it rolled down into my palm. I closed my fingers around it and threw it up in the air a few feet before deftly catching it between my middle and ring fingers.
Looking around the beaches of Honolulu, Hawaii, I found a promising prospect. Expanding the coin to the size of a Frisbee, I neatly tossed it from my fingers, sending it sailing across the white sand. I smiled when it hit its target, knocking a bikini-clad young lady into one of the surfers returning from the water. I smiled wistfully as the drachma reappeared in my hand, watching the scene unfold in front of me.
I turned my face to the sun after a few moments, tossing my unruly fire-red hair away from my face. After over two millennia, I could finally smile as I remembered Athens. My fingers fondled Lysander's coin, still as bright and shiny as the day it had come into my possession. It had served me well over the years, and I like to think that its owner would have been proud.
I hadn't stayed in Greece much past that day. I had returned to check on Charis, and I had done so many more times throughout the rest of her life. After she had grown older and eventually passed away, there was nothing left tethering me to the ancient world. My parents had long since passed, and there was no Lysander, not anymore. Not there, anyway. I like to think that he had been invited into Elysium, and thus lived out his afterlife quite happily. I had since stopped worrying about the fact that I had taken his coin.
The voice in my head had spoken to me only once more after that night. Several centuries later, the spirit I had come to call Fengári had told me that there were others like me. Other 'guardians,' as he had told me. I wasn't completely alone, and that in itself was a relief. But that was all he said. I had pleaded, almost begged with him to give me more- to give me something else to go on. But it had remained silent.
It wasn't a bad life, if one didn't mind solitude and immortality. On that first night, Fengári had told me that I had become the personification of summer, light, and warmth.
The moon had told me my name was Lithia.
I never went by the name of Abellona again.
The children loved me as they were let out of school for the year. The joy on their faces reminded me of how Charis used to get whenever Lysander and I would take her out around Athens. It was priceless, and it made living with the pain bearable.
The older teenagers and young adults were the ones I loved the most though. Summer was a time for romance and happiness, those feelings that I never really got to experience for myself while I was living. The face of a man or woman falling in love was the most precious thing one could ever hope to see, and I helped to make that happen.
It's a blessing and a curse, having lived for two and a half millennia. I've seen things I'd never imagined and seen things that have horrified me to the core. I've seen the birth of countries and the fates of said countries as well, including the downfall of my own. I've lived through every war, from the Peloponnesian wars to the fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq. With so much violence and hatred in the world, one needs a bit of love and amusement to balance things out.
Leaping from my tree, I threw the drachma beneath my feet. It expanded rapidly so it was large enough to stand on, and I surfed the air down to where a young girl no older than seven was having trouble with her sandcastle. Jumping to the ground, I caught the coin in my hand and placed it back in my pocket as I knelt down beside the girl.
I carefully ran my hand across the wet sand she was using, making sure not to disturb it too much as the cold grains rubbed against my hand. As the girl played, I quietly changed the wet sand to the optimal mix of water and sand for such construction. Getting back to my feet, I ran and found a collection of shells and seaweed. Using my golden coin as a hovercraft to carry the stuff, I strategically placed it around where I knew the girl would find them later. There was still something missing, though.
Ah, right.
I spotted a few other kids digging in the sand a few yards down the beach. Walking over to them, I shifted their attention to the little girl building the castle. It wasn't long before the three of them had made new friends and were working together on their project. I stood over the girl's shoulder, watching them work. Satisfied with my own work, I ran my hand through the girl's dark brown hair, ruffling it a little bit.
It was the only part of a human being I could touch.
I walked a few steps away from the group before I took off running toward the water. As I sprinted, I tossed the drachma in front of me. It grew a few yards ahead and I leaped onto it, my momentum sending it flying forward across the water. I rode low, catching the saltwater spray in my face. Leaning over, I trailed my fingers through the foam-tipped caps of the waves. The end of my dress flared out behind me, snapping in the crisp ocean breeze.
I didn't need the drachma to fly, but I had found that surfing the air was so much more fun. The feeling of tilting the board just right to get it to go in the direction I wanted, the force that pushed me down onto the board as I made a really sharp turn. It was exhilarating.
I looped the loop up into the sky before crashing back down through the water. Banking hard, I did a one-eighty degree spin and turned to face the beach from whence I'd just come.
Yes, I decided, there were some days I was glad I had perished in that fire. It had its ups and downs, but I was significantly happier here on the beaches of Hawaii than I ever had been or would have been in Greece.
As I faced the shoreline, the wind whipped against my back. My wild red curls blew into my face, and I was constantly moving to tuck them behind my ears. I loved what the change had done to my appearance. The first time I looked in a mirror, nearly a week after the fire, I had stepped back in surprise. Gone were the pale skin and the hazel eyes and soft brown curls. This girl had an even bronze than, piercing amber eyes and gravity-defying bright red curly hair. I loved it. I loved the difference. It had made me feel as if I was a completely new person. It had allowed me to move on with my second life.
Grinning maniacally with my tongue just prodding my top teeth, I took off. I summoned a gigantic wave behind me and dropped down so that I was actually surfing the water. I rode the inside of the curve, swishing back and forth and causing spray to go everywhere. I laughed aloud as my killer wave knocked out a few unsuspecting amateur surfers. Just before the wave broke on the shore, I zoomed out from underneath it, climbing high into the sky. It was there that I finally stopped moving.
I let the golden drachma hover about forty feet above the ground. I jumped a little, landing with my behind on the golden metal and my legs dangling off the side. From there, I calmed down from my high as I watched the beachgoers beneath me.
It was here that I felt most true to myself, alone and cut off from the rest of the world. Just watching to see what everyone would do next.
I smiled as a soft chirping sounded over my shoulder. I held out my finger, and a small golden bird landed on the offered perch. The Golden Palm Weaver had been a gift from the moon, centuries ago when I was feeling so down that I couldn't go on. The little bird had been gifted with immortality, just as I had been, and had also been given a higher intelligence. She was my best friend- my only friend.
She and I could understand each other, even though neither of us actually knew what the other was saying. It was safe to say that the little golden ball of feathers had saved my life. There had been times that I had considered attempting to die a second time, though I knew that was impossible, but she had brought me back from the edge of the precipice.
I named her Charis.
Meanwhile, somewhere up in the Arctic Circle …
Jack Frost
It was safe to say that Jack Frost, winter trickster king, was actually bored. It wasn't that it was an unusual feeling for him. In his three hundred years since waking up on the lake, he had partaken in his fair share of boredom. But after the events of early spring 2012, boredom had begun to seem more … boring.
At least then, he didn't have anything else to really compare it to.
But fighting Pitch and saving the world had been a rush of adrenaline. Actually being needed for once had made him feel important for the first time in those three hundred years. Fighting for his existence alongside friends had been the most fun he'd had in forever. Plus there had been the additional bonus of finally figuring out who he was.
But this wasn't 2012. There was no threat. There hadn't been for the past five years. This was 2017, and everything was about as routine as routine could get.
He had gotten bored of playing around in his sandbox of Antarctica. There are only so many ice sculptures one can make before he fills up the square mileage of the most desolate continent on Earth. He has more fun tearing them all down in the end, before the mortals' instruments and devices found the anomalies in the supposedly uninhabited ice. That had quickly gotten old, especially since he had begun to enjoy the other Guardians' company.
Thus, for the past three summers, Jack had returned to North's workshop in the Arctic, the unofficial Guardian Headquarters. It wasn't like he really had anywhere else to go. Tooth had her fairy hideout, Bunnymund had his tunnels and Easter egg facility. Sandy had his golden dreamdust cloud. North had his factory with his toy-building Yetis and his less-than-helpful elves.
But Jack? Jack had nothing, save for his staff. It hadn't mattered before; he had been quite happy roaming the Earth as a nomad. And sometimes he still did, but now that more and more children believed in him, he couldn't just walk out into the street anymore. So here he was, bumming off North's hospitality and playing Egyptian Ratscrew and Crazy Eights with the Yetis.
… Which would be one thing if he could actually win a game. It was a completely different story after losing straight games for the past two months. He hadn't expected that the Yetis would be so good at cards. It made him thankful he hadn't taught them Poker or Blackjack.
Jack groaned in irritation as he threw his remaining cards down, having just lost for the 147th time in a row. He ran his hands through his white hair, tugging it at the ends. He blinked slowly, clearing his eyes of the haze that seemed to have fallen over his vision. When the Yeti asked him if he wanted to play again, he hastily turned the offer down.
Grabbing his staff, he nimbly leapt to his feet. He was gripped with the overwhelming desire to cause some sort of trouble, but held it back. The one condition that allowed him to stay at the factory was that he controlled his mischievous antics. One prank and he was out for the rest of the year. He had, unfortunately, learned that the hard way.
On the bright side, he thought to himself as he wandered over to the window looking over the tundra, winter was almost here. The air was already becoming crisper down in the temperate area, and the kids had gone back to school a couple weeks before. Jamie had been worrying about entering the high school the last time Jack had gone down to visit.
His mind made up, Jack leapt out the open window, summoning the wind to help him on his way. He would go down to visit Jamie and Sophie. It had been a while since he had last been to Massachusetts, and he was anxious to go back.
As he tumbled though the air, his mind turned back toward his friends in New England. Although they had grown up in the five years that had passed, the group of kids that had helped them to defeat pitch had never stopped believing. Jamie and Jack had grown closer as the kid grew up. Jamie was now fourteen, only two years younger than Jack's physical age of sixteen. Sophie had just had her tenth birthday, making her a little older than Jamie had been when they first met.
Jack knew that someday he would have to leave them, that someday they would grow too old. That they'd find other people, start families of their own. That he would then be having fun with their children, and their grandchildren after that. Luckily, that wasn't going to be for years from now.
It was a while longer before he came in sight of Burgess, Massachusetts. When he entered the town, he immediately turned in the path he had memorized toward the Bennett house. The time was around four pm, so Jamie and Sophie would be home from school by now. Jack slowed up as he came to his friend's window, rapping lightly on the glass.
Jamie, who had been sitting doing his homework, immediately turned toward the window with a grin on his face. His long brown hair flopped into his eyes, and it was obvious that he was thrilled to see the youngest Guardian. He abandoned his homework, dropping his pencil on his page of geometry problems. Proofs could wait.
He quickly crossed his room and unlocked the window, allowing Jack to blow into the room with a chilly tailwind. When he turned around, he saw that his friend had already made himself comfortable on the bed. The temperature of the room had dropped a palpable few degrees as well.
Jack regarded his friend, cataloguing the changes that had been made over the summer months. The sun had lightened his hair a bit, giving him a few natural highlights. The sun had brought out freckles against his tanned skin. He had also shot up like a weed and filled out a bit. Stature-wise, he was now a little larger than Jack.
The Guardian, however, still saw him as the little nine-year-old kid that had helped him to defeat Pitch.
"Hey, kid," Jack called affectionately from where he was parked on the bed. His staff was propped on the wall to the right, where a layer of frost had formed at the place it touched the wood.
"Jack," Jamie said, "I'm nearly fifteen. I'm not a kid anymore." Sighing, he took a seat at the end of the bed as Jack drew up his legs.
"You forget that I'm three hundred years older than you," Jack replied with a raised eyebrow. "To me, everyone's 'kid.'"
The two boys stared each other down for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, Jamie quickly stifling his as not to alert his mother. He was supposed to be doing geometry proofs, and those were certainly not funny. The two teens took a minute or so more before they actually began talking again.
"So, how have you been Jamie?" Jack asked, leaning forward. "Is high school as bad as you thought it would be?" He was genuinely curious, having never actually gone to school before. He'd seen it though, and he couldn't say he felt he was missing out on anything. The kids usually looked miserable.
"I go by James now," he automatically corrected the Guardian, "and actually …" he ducked his head, unable to keep a bit of color from entering his cheeks. "It isn't all that bad."
"James? When did this happen?" Jack enquired, unable to keep the surprise off his face.
"When I entered high school," Jamie – James – replied. "You know, how they call role call the first day and ask you if you have a nickname you'd rather be called by? Well, this year I didn't correct them."
Jack sighed. "You're growing up, Jamie."
James snorted. "Obviously not- I'm still talking to you, aren't I?"
The Guardian tilted his head in concession. "True enough," he said, a small smirk growing on his face. "How's the rest of the gang?"
James shrugged. "We haven't hung out as much this year. We're still all really good friends – we text regularly – but we've been pulled in different directions. Different classes and all that."
"And Sophie?"
"She's fantastic, man. You should see some of the work she's done. I'd have thought someone our age did it if I didn't know better. Here, check this out." James pulled a small scroll from the table beside his bed and handed it to Jack, who unrolled it.
The immortal examined it, outwardly impressed by the ten-year-old's artwork. The painting had obviously been inspired by her trip to Bunnymund's warren when she was four, but it wasn't the warren itself. The watercolors blended together, forming a fantastical scene of a green landscape adorned by patches of color. There was a lake in the corner, reflecting the colors of the pastel sunset.
"Is she here?" Jack asked, hoping that he could compliment her on her latest work. Sophie held a soft spot in each of the Guardians' hearts. Both of the Bennett children did.
James shook his head. "She's at a friend's house for a sleepover tonight. She reminded me to give this to you, though, so you could give it to Bunnymund. She's reminded me to do so for the past three weeks or so, ever since it's started to get colder."
Jack nodded and took the paper. "I'll make sure it gets to him safely." He was going to say more, but at that moment, a loud buzzing sound filled the air. Looking over, he saw that it was James' phone on the nightstand beside him. Grinning evilly, he snatched the cell up before Jamie could get to it.
"Give it," James said, holding his hand out for the device. Jack could hear the undertone of desperation in his voice and immediately took note.
He instead held it even further away from his friend, smirking like a madman. "Someone important, is it?" He asked, "You seem to know exactly who it is. Let's see," he said with a hum. "Lisa Clark? A girl not among your little group of friends?" He raised his eyebrow as he watched his friend's face flush hot. "Does Jamie have a girlfriend?"
"She's not my girlfriend," the fourteen-year-old muttered, rather unconvincingly.
"But you want her to be," Jack prodded.
"Shut up!" James protested. "Please just give me the phone, Frost?"
"Oh, breaking out the last names, are we, Bennett? Fine. I'll give it back, but only after you tell me the story behind all this." He tossed the phone tauntingly up in the air, flipping it before catching it again.
"Seriously? Haven't you ever liked someone before?"
"So you DO like her!" Jack crowed.
James groaned.
"And no. No, I haven't. I'm immortal, Jamie. It doesn't really equate to good relationships. 'Oh yea, I'm just gonna watch you grow old and die while I'm never gonna look a day older than sixteen. Sorry.'"
"You're just being cynical."
"Says the boy in love," Jack countered. "Believe me, Jamie. I've seen it happen. There's no such thing as young love, at least it's very rate. You'd be best to wait a few more years," he advised, "but as long as you're happy, it's good. Now, is she cute? How did you meet?"
Jamie flushed even more. "She's cute," he admitted. "I met her in the park. She had dropped the paper she was carrying right ahead of me so I stopped to help. That was earlier this summer. Then, I see her again in my English class the first day of school. We got to talking and … yeah." He ended his short monologue by looking at his hands.
"Actually …" he began again, "there was something I was meaning to ask you. Just how many Guardians are there?"
Jack was confused. "Only the five of us," he said. "North, Tooth, Bunnymund, Sandy, and me. Why do you ask?"
Well, James replied, "I saw someone else that day. I think. I didn't actually see them. It's just … before Lisa dropped her papers, I could have sworn I'd seen a flash of gold knock them out of her hand. When I looked to see where it came from, I thought I saw someone sitting in the tree. And then she was gone. Poof"
Jack shrugged. "She probably just fell out."
"But there was no sound. And no evidence that someone had been there when I went back to check."
The white haired boy tossed the phone back to his friend. "You're just seeing things after what happened with Pitch," he said, brushing it off.
"After five years? I don't think so …"
Reviews are appreciated by every author, myself included. All reviews are also forwarded by me to abitofslytherin :)
