And things get complicated :D
Pairing: N/A (Gen)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Adventure
Rating: K+ (depressing themes, no smut/direct cursing)
Word Count: 3,832
Chapter 4 - Mother Nature
''Perhaps there could be no joy on this planet without an equal weight of pain to balance it out on some unknown scale.''
''But that party will be remembered for centuries to come!'' the brown-haired girl screamed, violet eyes narrowed and constantly on the move in front of the dark, taller man. She stopped, stomped her foot and looked to him with anger. And then her face expression softened, and she pleaded, ''Dad I really want to go.''
The plea in her gaze did nothing to deter him, and he shook his head with a snort. He looked at her down his nose, eyes narrowed, the authority of his figure threatening. ''I said no. That's my final answer.''
She loudly grunted, of course she did, and rushed to her room with speed abnormal for any child her age. When he heard the doors of her room shut, when the echoes of it stopped echoing throughout the elegant cavern, he sighed.
The words he had overheard echo in his head.
If that bird freak comes to this party, we'll make sure everyone gets a good look at her. We must make sure she never comes to another party for dark spirits again. Oh, she won't forget it, and neither will any of us.
He was flying half-way through France when it happened.
The wind gave out like an off switch.
Jack gasped and stumbled toward the ground at breakneck speed, the darkness around him not catching him but letting him fall through. He tried calling to the wind a dozen times as he seemed to fall in a terrible frefall of whoosing wind, not stopping and not slowing down. He was too high up to get out of it without a scratch. Coming to realize this, his frantic and terrifed glances to the ground below that was fast approaching became all the more frequent. He flailed his hands around and at some point he even dropped his staff, and scrambled madly for it, barely catching it while he was completely out of control and holding the gauntlet tightly in his other hand. He didn't want to fall, and he almost blamed destiny for being cruel.
He was getting close with the North Star too - it started moving the tiniest bit when he moved it right and left, as if signifying the thing they were seeking was near and that going right or left made a huge difference.
Now he fell like a sinking rock in the ocean, aimlessly and without a known fate, the night mocking him by looking like the dark depths of a sea in which he was sinking.
The ground below him, an isolated land of sorts, came into a view clear enough for Jack to be able to pinpoint where he was supposed to hit the ground; a patch of black soil, where he could see a few children playing, chasing each other and digging dirt, despite that it was dark and the sun had long since set. It would hurt, and he might even black out, but if he just held on tightly, his small weight could help him get less injured. But a fall was a fall. He just hoped he would either not fall on the children or if he were to come into contact with one of them, for the first time, for the children not to believe in him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the gauntlet and his staff to his chest. He tried to breathe normally.
It will be over soon, he thought, though the loud noise of cutting through air drowned out most of his inner voice, You can't die.
Were those thoughts same as Pitch's before he was gone?
He couldn't have been more than a meter away from the ground, tumbling and twisting like in a mockery of a circus entertainer, when he came to a abrupt and swift stop. For a long time, he neither moved nor spoke, just stared at the ground that was all but in front of his nose, visible although it was dark, breathing ragged enough to not count as breathing at all. He held his hands with the staff and gauntlet to his chest, unmoving as time itself seemed to have stopped as well.
He face-planted when his stomach landed first and forced his head to knock on the soil. Coughing up a bit of dirt that turned up in his mouth, he quickly turned over on his side and lifted his head, up and searching for the reason of what had happened as he wheezed in surprise.
But no answer came, except the few laughs of children, still playing mere feet from him. One of them had found a small, glowing bug and was showing it off as the children both leaned forward and away from the scary-looking creature. A few of them squeaked when the bug-holding child started chasing them, laughing at the sudden change of game.
Jack looked in all directions, but beside the field of fertile soil and a large, house of victorian style, there was nothing else.
Putting the strange anomaly aside, he sat himself on his knees and just barely glanced to the two precious items in his hands, before getting up completely. He looked up.
The sky was painted black with the moon and stars obscured by the clouds, erasing Jack's theory that it was the Moon who saved him. The field in which he was in was surrounded by a small, wooden fence, over which the children must have jumped in order to play. The house stood at the far right, and all beyond the field and the fence were trees too high to climb by bare hands.
Jack took a step forward, then looked back at the children. A boy and two girls, looking similar enough for Jack to guess they were siblings. As they dropped the glowing bug to the floor, they continued to play, making Jack also guess that they couldn't see him.
But why are the children playing in the middle of the night? Jack thought, perplexed. He raised an eyebrow at them and looked around. But there were no grownups. What sane parent would let their child play outside at such a late hour?
Jack's thoughts however let up, when he realized another thing.
The wind, Jack thought and glanced about the night sky. There wasn't even a slight breeze to ruffle his hair, not a ghostly whisper against his cold skin, nor a sound that so much as resembles wind.
There were no air currents.
''What?'' Jack asked, more to himself because there was no one around to listen to him.
''It's because of the change in the world,'' a deep, female voice answered him, and Jack startled so badly that he dropped the gauntlet and almost his staff. But he held the wooden stick out before him and pointed it in all directions, eyes wide, until he came to a stop. The top of his weapon touched a stomach clad in dark green.
His confusion-filled eyes traveled upward, over the fabric with intricate swirls of light green, a neck wrapped all around, and stopped at a long, yet lovely face. At first he could neither think anything nor react. And then the woman, her emerald green eyes - from what Jack could tell in the darkness - staring at him intently, lifted an elegant eyebrow.
A sense of another horrible deja vu overpowered him, and he nearly lost his grip on his staff, were it not for the woman shaking her head disapprovingly to steel his nerves.
''Still oblivious, I see,'' she murmured, her face surprisingly neutral as she turned around. Her har, which Jack barely saw was the color of ebony, billowed around her head. For a second there, he thought the wind had returned, but feeling no wind, he concluded with a slight awe that the woman was making her own, invisible wind.
Jack shivered, the sudden feeling of fear twitching in his stomach. This woman was trouble.
''Jack Frost,'' the same deep, regal voice of hers addressed him, and Jack lowered his staff completely. Something grew in his stomach as he gazed at the woman's retreating back. She stopped, and turned around to face him, as if she had been merely putting distance between them before talking to him. Jack doubted it was because of caution; the woman felt too superior.
''You are needed in the South Pole,'' she said, her voice as emotionless as her actions. But a tight-lipped, narrowed-eyed expression on her face told him otherwise. ''You are to be there and help your fellow spirits to stop the minor catastrophe that is coming.''
''Why?'' Jack asked, then stopped himself from saying anything more. He sounded rude.
The woman merely relaxed her face, and said, ''Because it is your duty to obey me, for as long as you're on my planet.''
Jack gaped. On her planet? Who is she?
''My duty is to obey MiM,'' Jack countered, slamming the butt of his staff to the ground, but producing no snow. He stared at the woman with narrowed eyes, his resolve firm.
The green-eyed spirit smiled. ''Perhaps... And his duty is to listen to me.''
Jack lifted an eyebrow, relaxing his hand on his staff then clenching it again. This woman knew Man in Moon?
But before the winter spirit spoke again, the woman cut him off swiftly. ''Be there.''
A silent shiver ran down his spine, though he tried his best not to show it. He knew, he simply knew he wasn't supposed to disobey her. Whoever this person was, whatever kind of spirit she was, she was dangerous and she was to be feared. She was to be obeyed.
He didn't even reply, before she waved a hand in air and turned around. A question caught in his throat, but before he could let it out, the ground shifted beneath him, and he loudly yelped in surprise. The ground reached up around him as he sunk, and he tried to claw his way back, but it was shifting, bits and pieces falling off the earthly bodies that surrounded him.
No sooner did he lose his staff than he was being shoved down (and up?) a hole that appeared beneath (above?) him.
He stood, flabbergasted and not capable of thought, staring ahead of him at... the Globe?
The lights shone down at him, the darkness of nothing comforting his loud, nonsense thoughts. The ground that was on him, and beneath him, shifted again, and Jack jumped back from it, nearly falling on his rear in surprise as the wooden floor creaked and returned back to its original shape.
Just a small, unimportant pebble lay on the floor; it was all that was left from Jack's transportation.
Needless to say, the Guardian of Fun was in great awe at the way he was delivered. A powerful woman, indeed.
But he was at the North Pole now.
As soon as he realized that, thundering footsteps sounded all around him. He twisted and turned, clutching his staff like a life line, his knuckles white. But the foosteps came from way over the other side of the Globe Room, and Jack frantically ran to the window in hopes of escaping before anyone could perceive him.
The memory of wind giving away resurfaced like a bitter taste on his tongue, and he screeched to a stop in front of it. The footsteps neared dangerously close, and he could distinguish voices. His little miracle turned out in the form of a table, far to the right. He lunged for it, almost dropping his staff.
He crawled beneath the table, grateful that the decorations on it masked half the hidden space, and pressed himself against the wall side of the table. He clasped a hand over his mouth, from which came his ragged breathing, and listened to the voices approaching.
''-is dead. Nature said so herself-''
''We don't know for certain,'' North's voice interrupted the female voice. At first Jack thought it was Tooth, but the longer he listened to the voice, the more he noticed it differed greatly in contrast.
''She wouldn't lie. She has no reason to,'' the childish voice said, and Jack could finally see a familiar pair of feet with neat dance shoes. White and looking like they were made for ballet, adorning small, petite feet. That of a small child.
''Then we cannot risk it,'' North grunted and stopped. Jack's breathing stopped for a moment too, and might even his heart when North bent over, and picked the small pebble in his meaty hands. He whispered, ''If Wind is dead, we have to act fast to replace the Boogeyman.''
''I already searched India... Nothing.''
''Keep looking, and thank you for your help,'' North said, and as soon as he did, Jack saw the small feet jump, vanishing for a moment out of his sight. They never came down, and Jack barely quirked an eyebrow at it because he was too preoccupied with the new information.
Wind... dead?
This time, unknown tears brimmed behind his eyes, and he shut them closed, hand on his mouth tightening.
Not you... oh, Wind. What am I supposed to do now?
He didn't know the spirit that brought him joy and company in his long days of loneliness. Heck, he didn't even know there was a spirit behind the invisible element. He just thought it was controlled by itself, an element that was semi-sentient.
His heart twisted when he tried to think of a face to give to the supposedly dead spirit. Must everything he knows die while he just helplessly watches? While he hides like a child from grownups?
North lingered on the spot, spinning a few times in a circle, and then he yelled, making Jack startle, ''Phil! Get me my reindeer, and summon the Guardians! We have much work to do.'' As there was a bustle of motion in the distance, North murmured, just barely audible, ''We're running out of time.''
He left not long after. And when the frost sprite was certain the Workshop was back to the usual noise with nothing peculiar, he crawled out from under the table. The Globe Room was empty, and he shuffled out, and made his way in front of the Globe.
The lights flickered, but none of them went out, which was good. But worrying at the same time.
''I'll find Pitch,'' he said, and he was surprised to hear his voice was scratchy, like he had been crying. He cleared his throat and looked at the lights more confidently, ''Don't worry. I'll find him and make it all alright.''
He turned on his heel and stopped.
If ideas were represented by light bulbs, he would have one burning brightly above his head right then.
Warda, his mind whispered.
Getting to the reindeer was simple. Getting on her was a lot harder.
She buckled beneath him, and snorted, loudly. He tried to shush her, afraid that her eagerness would give him away to nearby yeti. But no one came in, and Jack was sure North already left. They didn't take Warda with them, and Jack guessed it was because she was new and yet to be trained. She was wild and untamed. Not like the other reindeer North boasted were any less untamed, but they at least had practice. The albino reindeer that was Warda was unpredictable.
Jack looked uneasily at her and she snorted again, but stilled beneath him. Sitting awkwardly and without a saddle on her back, he patted her head. She shook it a little, acknowledging his touch.
''There, there girl,'' Jack soothed, smiling, ''You and I have places to go.''
She snorted, a lot louder than the last few times, and Jack flinched and patted her harder. ''Easy. We won't go anywhere dangerous...''
She shook her head with a low growl and looked sideways at him, and Jack swore he almost saw scepticism in her one glassy, black eye.
''Anywhere too dangerous,'' he amended, and she seemed satisfied enough, stilling.
Satisfied himself, he hummed gratefully and reached for the lock in front of him and Warda. His hand hovered over the metal, whose lock he discreetly unlocked by snatching the key from a yeti while she was busy wrapping up a doll house, and he stared at the reindeer. She didn't move, her loud breathing the only sound in the abandoned barn.
''Okay,'' he said, and slowly, very slowly, lifted the metal handle.
Still nothing from the animal.
He smiled, nudging open the fence, which creaked lowly and opened all the way without his help. Warda didn't even so much as blink.
Jack chuckled and readjusted his grip on the reindeer. ''Okay, time to goo-
-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!''
He couldn't stop his mouth from opening up in a scream of surprise as Warda lurched upward and right through the barn. He didn't stop gasping and producing animal-like noises until the albino straightened somewhat, no longer in a reverse swan-dive. But she kicked and bucked like there was no tomorrow.
He closed his mouth, clutching his staff with all his worth and pressing himself into her. His stomach twisted into knots and he regretted getting onto her. If he fell, and with Warda's consant bickering and unnecessarily excited kicking of hooves he just might, he would get pretty injured. And that was the last thing on his today's to-do-list.
But after feeling like he might rip out her fur with his iron-grip, she galloped and gave one last snort before smoothing out her ride.
They flew over the endless expanse of ice, gliding on the wind, and Jack couldn't help but to breathe out in utter relief. He even straightened, though his legs wrapped around the animal too tightly to be comfortable.
He stared ahead, and the sun greeted him. It washed over the sky, coloring it in all shades of orange and yellow. A streak of red passed overhead, and warm air came out of nowhere. Like they were suddenly submerged in warm water, while they were in middle of the Northern hemisphere. Then the cold air returned again.
Warda kicked her legs with more control, and the ride was pleasant, relaxing. Jack released his grip on the reindeer, and grasped his staff in his left hand. He straightened out completely now, but not without unease and apprehension.
He spread his arms out and greeted the air, and the colors ahead almost seemed to dance.
''Wooooohooooo!'' he yelled and laughed out loud. Warda merely snorted, as if unamused by his childish antics. ''Warda, this is wonderful!''
Soon the sea came into view, and Jack was surprised by how fast they reached it. He readjusted his grip on his new companion, flattening out on her furry body again and whispered, ''We have to get to France first. I dropped the gauntlet accidentally. I hope that woman didn't take it...
''Why am I telling you this, you don't even know what a country is...''
He ruffled his hair in frustration. It's not crazy talking to an animal, but expecting it to understand you is another matter he'll have to discuss with himself later. He looked down at her. ''Guess I'll just have to stir you. Shouldn't be too bad.''
When she whined and he flinched a little, his grip tightening, he sighed. Not too bad, he repeated in his head.
The gauntlet was nowhere to be seen.
Not even landing Warda, the untamed beast of a reindeer, brought him such fear and surprise. He searched the entire field twice, throughly. But the silver and gold accessory was simply not there anymore. Like it was swept by a non-existent wind and carried off to who-knows-where.
Did the woman take it? Jack thought, but scolded himself. She had no reason to. She looked powerful enough to not amuse herself with trinkets.
Then again, she could be teasing him. Giving him a 'nudge' to come to the South Pole and 'help out' as she put it. Help out with what, he didn't know. But she sounded serious, and although he decided a long ago that he was going to disobey her, with a great grimace and fear, he felt uneasy and queer to do so. He knew he wasn't supposed to, but he had greater things planned in his mind. Surely the woman would understand... right?
He all but jumped when he felt a wet touch to his neck, but it was only Warda, neighing like a horse in worry. He sighed, and patted her neck. ''I don't know what to do, Warda... It's just you and me. And I don't think I know anymore than you do at this moment.''
Her white ears flattened against her head then. Before Jack noticed, she raised one, and turned it from one side to another, like she was following some invisible signals.
The Guardian of Fun looked at her with a concerned frown. ''What is it, Warda?''
She didn't answer of course, but she whined and bowed her head down, shaking it aggressively and snorting. Jack moved away from her with hands raised in defense, his staff glowing brightly for a second before the light tuned down. He payed no mind to it, already used to feeling the eerie glow beneath his fingertips.
Then a noise of breaking ice, and Jack veered to it like a machine, raising his staff with a mechanical habit.
His fingers felt numb on it, however, when he and Warda were faced by a boy, mere meters away, casually perched on the wooden fence. The sun, obscured by clouds, allowed Jack to take in all the details.
White hair highlighted with light blue, same length as Jack's, and baby blue eyes stared back at him. No older than eighteen, with clothes ancient-looking and mostly white and light blue, his pale face caught the winter sprite's attention. If he didn't know any better, he would have guessed it was his long lost brother.
A wicked grin overcomes the youthful face, and the boy lifts his hand, hitherto hidden behind his raised leg (the other one hangs limply down the fence).
''Looking for this?''
The golden gauntlet shimmers in the sun.
Author's Note: I need help with finding a suitable name for the winter spirit, you are free to comment your suggestions :)