Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Disney/Dreamworks/Game of Thrones characters, locations, and/or terms. I am just a humble weaver unraveling cloths of stories to thread together and create a new pattern. If you would like to read the info and details of this fic, you may go to the Preface section. Thank you!

JACK

The whispers sounded like the flies in the market, buzzing in droves over some fresh meat. Jack was not particularly fresh meat when it came to Animaren nobility, but he always seemed to strike a certain chord whenever he was around. He could see from what few people out late at night in the small village at the edge of North Pole that they were trying hard not to gape at him. He yawned widely, and slumped in his saddle, closing his eyes.

"Careful, Lord Frost. You might fall and muddy yourself."

Jack opened his eyes. The thin crowd parted, letting a group of men on horseback pass through the narrow main road, the banners of the gold open book on blue flapping in the wind. The man who spoke rode at the forefront, mounted on a gray gelding and covered in gray furs. Aster Bunnymund, House Sigurd's master-at-arms. Jack pressed his heels to the side of his horse, leading it forward.

"How goes the Pole, Bunny?"

The man winced. "That name sounded better from the mouth of a child, Frost. But the Pole is the same as always. And you? Still gambling your way around the world?"

Jack looked around at the villagers, who averted their eyes. "Well, I certainly felt more comfortable in Animat. Here people stare at me like I'm the bloody fisherman come to take them to the moon." He ran his fingers through his most unusual feature: his white hair.

"It's because you never dye the damn thing."

"Spare me your lectures, Aster. I'll never heed them anyway. Come on." Jack kicked his horse into a trot up the start of the sloping road, and Aster and the rest of the men were forced to comply.

"So, what does my uncle want?" Jack asked, riding ahead of the others.

"Has it ever crossed your mind that he misses you?" Aster called, and Jack smirked when he heard the man's huffing, trying to keep up with him.

"It has, but he wouldn't summon me unless it was of utmost importance." Jack reined in the horse to stop in front of a series of stables. He and his companions dismounted and led their horses inside one of the stables. Once the horses were settled, they went to the next stable and each picked a reindeer, with Jack moving his packs to a spare reindeer.

Reindeer could only traverse the steep mountain road going up the mountain to the castle of North Pole, especially during the winter season. Horses could manage, but would easily tire halfway through the journey, and there weren't any more stables in between the one at the foot of the mountain and the castle.

"Maybe we could rest first," Jack said, eyeing the road. It would take them more than half a day to reach the top, at best, and they chose to begin their journey just after midnight. "I haven't eaten anything yet."

Aster tossed him a pouch. Inside were a loaf of bread with dried fruits and nuts and a skin of water. "That'll do for now, Lord Frost. You'll be dining on roasted pigs soon enough."

The retinue continued through the carved path along the mountainside, occasionally passing some merchant who brought provisions up. It had been more than a year since Jack was last here, trekking up the same road to the same castle built in the highest peak of North Pole. Standing for more than three centuries, the castle of North Pole consisted of one huge structure topped with a domed roof, surrounded by turrets on one side and a viaduct connecting to the main watchtower where one could practically see the land that stretched south. When the Sigurds first arrived they took up residence on the mountain, carving from the solid rock the rooms that are still in use to this day, and putting up a tall pole that could have been seen even from the foot of the mountain to mark their territory. Even with the pole long gone, the place still retained its name: the North Pole. About two centuries before, invaders attacked the villages at the foot of the mountain. They abducted children for slavery and slaughtered the adults. House Sigurd took up arms and fought them off, afterwards sheltering the children and earning them the name guardians of children. The house has since maintained a close relationship with the people under their rule.

Today, as Jack could see in the early morning sun, the large castle doors, made of the finest timber and engraved with swirls surrounding the open book sigil of Sigurd, were open. They always were, but the amount of people coming and going numbered more than usual. Jack turned to Aster.

"Does uncle need that much supplies to travel to Thronos?"

"Just because you lived off the land doesn't mean your uncle should do the same," Aster said, nodding to each person passing.

Jack scowled and didn't say anything the rest of the way to the castle. When Jack dismounted the reindeer, a young boy ran to him and held out a goblet. Jack looked at it, hands still clasped on the reins.

"Wine, m'lord?" the boy practically shoved the cup in Jack's face.

"Jamie!" Aster called as he dismounted himself. The boy bowed low before Jack and ran to Aster, the wine sloshing about, before handing it to the master-at-arms. Aster took a long drink and waved the boy away.

"He wasn't here the last time," Jack said, leading the reindeer to the stables.

Aster snorted. "He just arrived about half a year ago, you wouldn't know. He lost his father in a hunting accident. Lord North hired his mother as a cook, so now he and his sister live here. The boy's running errands, a big help around here. Could use a bit of enthusiasm from the young." He smirked at Jack.

Dropping the reins in the hands of a stable boy, Jack walked out of the stables with Aster following him. "That's one thing I don't lack."

"Then I hope you'll be enthusiastic to meet the new workers."

Jack sighed and let Aster lead the way. "Must I?" he whispered. "I just rode day and night to get here. Can I not get at least two days of rest? I have things I would like to unpack first."

"As much as I hate to admit it, you are now the guardian of North Pole." Aster looked him in the eye. "Act like one."

Jack frowned, then rolled his eyes and relented. Aster walked him around the courtyard, pointing out the fresh faces serving at the castle. There were Geron, a wizened old man who provided feed for the horses and reindeer; Anu and his two young girls, hailing from the south and arrived at the North Pole almost a year ago, who would take weekly trips from the base of the mountain to deliver chickens and eggs; Lumi and her bald, hulking brother Kliment who daily brought newly picked vegetables and herbs; and Bennie, the new cook and the boy Jamie's mother, and her daughter Sophie.

"Bunny!" the little girl squealed, standing on her tiptoes and reaching for the master-at-arms. "Bunny!"

Aster bent and picked her up. "Hello there, ankle-biter. How are you today?"

Sophie didn't reply. She stared at Jack with wide eyes as she clung tightly to Aster. "Hair."

"That's Lord Frost, little one."

"Sigurd," Jack corrected. "Not Frost. I tire of that name. Enough of it."

"My name's Bunnymund, not Bunny, and yet I'm still called that." Aster replied.

"Because you are one," countered Jack, enunciating each word.

"Lord Jackson."

Jack turned at the sound of the voice. A plump man with a smooth face that contrasted his age and wispy golden hair, wearing a fine thick coat of the same color and embroidered with elaborate spirals, stood at the kitchen doorway. He walked in with a light gait as if he was floating on air. Jack inclined his head in respect.

"Maester Sandy."

"Lord Nicholas requests your presence in the globe room."

"Finally," Jack stuck out his tongue playfully at the little girl Sophie when he passed her and Aster, and followed Maester Sandy out of the kitchen. As soon as they were in the corridor, Jack spoke. "What pressing matter has my uncle so uneasy that he sent for me at once? Am I needed as his companion to Thronos?"

Maester Sandy only smiled. He was the kind of man who let his actions do the talking for him. Their trip to the globe room was a silent one, not that Jack minded. It was a nice change from the noisy streets of Animat.

They stopped as the door to the globe room opened. A tall, lanky man stepped out, dressed from head to foot in black, his black hair slicked back with oils and beady eyes that stared with an indifferent conviction that Jack knew inspired fear in the hearts of most men. The man bowed at the waist, and Jack straightened upon seeing the mocking smile on his lips.

"Pitch." Jack greeted the captain of the guard. Maester Sandy cuffed him on the arm. "Oh, so sorry, Captain Pitchiner."

Pitch laughed, a deep tone that filled the corridor. "That's right, you have to act like the little lord you are now, Frost."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Perhaps it is best to ask your uncle. I suspect that is why he will speak with you, Lord Sigurd." Pitch bowed again before taking his leave.

Maester Sandy urged Jack forward. Jack blinked and placed his hand on the door and pushed it open.

A/N: And so begins the weekly update. To the guest who reviewed, there may be, and with that the rating is subject to change.

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