Virtus et Potestas
Posted: Fri. Dec. 7, 2012
Updated: Thu. Dec. 12, 2013
A/N : Whew! Quick update :D It is amazing how quickly this category is growing, and equally amazing to be a part of that growth. I read something today that said: "Jack Frost is about to get more fanfiction than Harry Potter, Hunger Games, and Percy Jackson. Combined." Let's see is we can make that come true! 'Cause he is just that awesome. Though it might take a while..
Special thanks go to those who have already reviewed! I makes me feel warm and loved on the inside. To those who are worried about Jack, don't feel too sorry for him. I'll say that much. Interpret that how you will.
Okay, on with what you came here for! I DO NOT OWN RISE OF THE GUARDIANS. Unfortunately. If I did, then I would have Jack to keep my pillow cold. Ah.. that would be amazing.
Fraternization: associate or form a friendship with someone, esp. when one is not supposed to.
How could they? Frost wondered repeatedly. How could they not see that was necessary? Thoughts of their betrayal rushed through his mind as he made his way to Burgess. He felt at home there.
Feeling the wind caressing his face, he could feel the comfort it was lending him. The ever dependable wind. That which gave him the ability to defy what people called gravity. The concept had never completely gotten through to him. When the theory of gravity came out in the late 17th century, he had not been around very long. Jack have a feeling that when he looked into his memories he would be able to tell what he was like when the wind would not listen to him. That thought saddened him, but it would be his history nonetheless.
Thoughts of his recently attained memory box brought back the already present and painful memories that occurred barely an hour ago.
Through the previous 318 years, he has been a loner. Having friendship offered, and then promptly taken away hurt. Badly.
As he was carried over Burgess the now constant tightening in his chest constricted even further. He simply couldn't stay around people right now. He couldn't see Jamie. He couldn't give the fun times that they were expecting at this time of year. He simply did not have it in him. How could he be the Guardian of Fun if he could not find joy in the simple caress of the wind?
The wind seemed to sense his mood and carried him back north. He obviously could not go back to the northern pole, but he had to be where he could seclude himself without having to move.
Traveling around the outskirts of the arctic circle, he searched for an area that was secluded and icy enough for him to take up a temporary residence. A place where he could let out his sorrow without having to deal with any beings with expectations.
Finally, the wind deposited him in a flat plain just off of where Baffin Bay meets the Atlantic. Looking up to the sky with quick silent thanks, the breeze gave a warmer caress and let him go on his way. With a light sad sigh, Jack walked over and around the many holes where water lay in both its frozen and liquid form. This area isn't so bad.. might just have to stay here permanently one day..
Shaking his head, he cleared those thoughts. He was a winter spirit, he couldn't stay in one place. He had to bring winter to those across the world. But only in a few months on the year..
"Stop it!" He scolded himself. "It won't be necessary anyways.." Lifting off from the cold terrain, he rose to a ledge that looked over the area. Lifting one leg to his chest and letting the other hang over the edge, he let his vision blur as he simply gazed through the air. Closing his eyes, he let a tear trickle down his cold cheek. Feeling it freeze halfway down its trail, he heaved a heavy sigh. Letting the chilly wind run through his messy hair, and past his blue hoody, he felt a semblance of peace. That of course was before the memories came rushing back when he started to think again.
A tremor ran through his body as he recalled Bunnymund's last words. "You will never be a Guardian. And you are not welcome here."
Those words left a foul taste in Jack's mouth. They were completely true. If the Guardians and himself could not see eye to eye on something that should be cut and dry, then what future did they have? He was a loner that had spent the past years looking out for the singular person that matters most. Kids are important, sure, without a doubt. They are able to look past the outer appearance somehow. They were able to make him laugh, on the normal occasion that is.
As his thoughts drove him further into his state of apathy, he failed to take note of the shadow watching him closely.
—
What is that idiot doing now? Watching ever since the spirit had landed in Greenland, Pitch had decided to remain among the shadows. This is where he felt most at home. In the darkness where no one could see him, and where no one could overlook him without it being intentional. Walking into the light, he was always overlooked. When someone would walk in his direction, it was always to walk through him. That was a feeling the winter spirit sitting not too far away from him knew all too well.
Watching the small figure closely, he found himself shocked. Every time he had seen the energetic sprite Jack had been too playful for his own good. Tossing kids around the snow like he would his own snowballs, and bouncing off of walls like a ping-pong ball in one of those blasted machines. Now, on the other hand, he saw a tear trickle down the winter spirit's cold cheek.
The difference was shocking, and he could not help but feel a slightly amount of pity for the spirit. He knew this would happen. Pushing those thoughts away, he focused back at the spirit as he let out of shaky breath. The interaction of his icy breath to the air particles was interesting at least.
He seemed to be at peace despite his obvious inner distress, but that too was all to quickly wiped away as a tremor wracked through his now curled form.
When Pitch had set Jack up to find his memories, he had expected him to be scolded by those oafs of Guardians, but it appeared that scolding had turned into something he did not account for.
It was something he could work with, however.
A wicked grin found its way onto the thin grey face as he walked away from the shadows. Much like the wind was a friend to the winter spirit, the shadows were the ally of the King of Nightmares.
Pitch's tight grin did not fade as he approached the back the winter spirit. He was not prepared for the next words.
—
Listening to the breeze as it ran through the tundra below, Jack let out a soft sigh. The breeze had met a new form behind him, and he had a hunch of who it might be. With the Guardians being all high and mighty, they probably would not so much as acknowledge his presence for the next century. Or so he figured. The only person left on the very short list of being that could see him was Pitch. Wonderful; absolutely freaking wonderful.
With another short barely audible sigh, he gave Black recognition. "So, what does the next spiel on joining you include? Because honestly, I think I rather would be alone." The wind carried off some of the volume that his voice held, but it was enough to cause Pitch to falter in his gait.
Putting on a fake smirk, Jack swung his right leg back onto the ledge and turned his body around. Now sitting indian style facing Pitch, Jack just stared at the man with an equally fake glint to his eyes.
Pitch returned the stare for a moment, eyes gazing into those icy blue depths, but then put up his signature look of condemnation.
"No spiel." Jack gave him a disbelieving look and rose an elegant eyebrow. "I simply wanted to give you my sympathies. Must be hard having them turn on you." He gave a slight sneer with these words, though when the only response that he gained was a minor shake of the head and a still obviously strained smirk, he started to worry.
Jack's smile was fading, and he turned his head away to hide the increasingly apparent distress. Eyes starting to lose their glint, they started to turn down as the reminder of the betrayal transformed his demeanor.
Now curled in on himself slightly, Jack gave a tense reply to the seemingly fake worry. "Oh, don't waste your limited supply of sympathy-" He cut himself off when his voice started to crack. That simply would not do. Luckily he was past the fear of rejection, otherwise the dark spirit would have a field day.
No, he was not afraid of rejection anymore, that fear was of the past. Now, all that was left was the stinging pain that the renewed isolation left. He had trusted them with his happiness of all things. To have them supply it, to start to depend on their relationship as its source, and then have it ripped away so suddenly. That will definitely leave a scar.. luckily I did not start to depend on people believing in me.. though that would be nice..
"…then you have another thing coming." Blinking owlishly, Jack refocused his eyes.
"Sorry, what was that Pitch?" Said spirit turned quickly to the dazed figure of the winter spirit that he was previously turned away from in what he would argue was certainly not a childish gesture. Pitch's scowl turned into a carefully placed blank stare however when he caught sight of the sprite.
Absent gaze, pale cheeks with a flush, and he was melting. Not a good sign.
Pitch cleared his throat, regaining the focus that the sprite had quickly lost. "Now, Snowy, how does it feel to be left behind?" In a desperate attempt to switch Frost's focus, he tried to go for the anger that comment would undoubtably ensue. Sure enough, he was not far off.
Following a brief moment of confusion, the fire in those icy eyes relit. As Jack started spewing off uncomplimentary nonsense about a certain King of Nightmares, said 'king' let out an inaudible sigh of relief. The winds were starting to pick up, and while that was a good sign, it was still incredibly inconvenient.
"…you don't even care about any other than yourself you prick." Jack finally ended his yelling with a tortured whisper. "To you all I am is a winter spirit that you can manipulate." With that final hiss, Jack picked himself up and walked toward the wall in the back of the shallow cavern.
While it was promising that he no longer associated himself as a Guardian, Pitch couldn't help but feel for the winter sprite. Keeping to the shadows so as not to startle the now fuming spirit, he watched as those beautiful silvery-blue eyes leaked half frozen tears. Those tears betraying the anger and hurt that was welling up inside.
Pitch's heart clenched at the sight, but Frost would never allow him to be of any help in this state. Though what was bringing on the desire to help the spirit was beyond him.
—
Staring into the darkness of the cave, blue eyes gazed unfocused into the distant terrain that lay just past the ledge he had been sitting on in not too many minutes previous.
Turning his eyes down to his now curled form, he thought back to the box that had started this trouble. He still had it in his pocket, but now he was nervous at the thought of the memories. Memories of his childhood; memories of his family; perhaps even memories of friends.
Family that he would never have again.
Friends that he definitely would never have again.
No, he had given up hope in having friends again. He could not trust someone with something as close to his heart as that.
Eyes hardened at that thought, and he put aside his worries. He had come this far, he would not get cold feet. Not that I ever could..
With a dark chuckle, he pulled out the small wooden box. Looking at it from all sides, he glanced at the portrait of the small boy with brown hair. So that was what I looked like then..
Giving one last sigh, he briefly closed his eyes and opened them with new determination.
Clutching his pale fingers tighter around the box, he opened the lid. Then, for the second time in way too short a timespan, his world faded to black.
A/N:
Looks into the pot o' review... picks up a shiny review.. bites down on it..
Hey! It's a real one it is! YES!
