A/N: *glances guiltily at the calendar* Um, well, hi. Guess who's back? (Back again)

Soooo yup, this loser's back after so long—I swear that I was working on things, though!—and now I finally have an update for you amazing followers. Yayyy!

This chapter is a follow-up to "A Secret Well-Kept" (check Chapter Nine for a refresher if you want—I know it's been a while!), which I thought a lot of people, including myself, needed.

Disclaimer: I don't own RotG.

Enjoy! :D


Important Things


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Chapter Summary: Jack finally wakes up from his three-month nap, and there are questions to be asked.

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Time had no meaning to the North Wind. It was a silly human thing, so she wasn't bothered with each rise and fall of the moon and the sun.

The Wind was timeless. Through the three human months that her winterchild slept, she waited patiently. She was content to stay by her boy's side for as long as was needed.

Wind then glanced over at the sleeping child, and felt for the familiar energy of the earth being absorbed by the Spirit of Winter. But the pull had recently begun to weaken with each passing phase of the Moon, and so she realized that the rejuvenation period was coming to a close.

It was time for the boy to awaken.

Wind turned away from her sleeping frostchild and slipped through the enchantments of Lady Spring, and the heralds of Summer and Autumn. Once out, she traveled to the golden island of the man of sand, for he was the one who could understand her best. But Wind still struggled to translate her Language into something that the Guardian would be able to comprehend. If Wind had a face, she would be frowning as he stared at her in confusion. Why couldn't he understand her like her frostchild did?

But the man of sand eventually did figure out what Wind was trying to say. He smiled and gave a slight bow (making Wind metaphorically puff up with pride), then flew off—presumably to the north. And when Wind had returned to retrieve her boy, the Northern Lights were already activated.

If Wind had a mouth, she would have smiled.

She was glad for these people. They would take better care of her dearest one than she ever could.


Nature magic worked in strange ways. It was what supplied each spirit under Mother Nature (and to an extent—some Moon-Chosen, such as Aster Bunnymund) with energy. Seasonal spirits drew their power from the earth, but some of the more powerful ones had to take more, leading them to sleep for a longer period of time to regain that lost energy.

And as for Jack Frost . . .

Jack sat up in his snowbank and rubbed his eyes, a confused expression on his face. He gazed around the cave, at the rocky walls, and then he realized . . . it had all been a dream.

The sadness and confusion in his mind quickly vanished when Jack felt the slightest rumble in his stomach.

Oh. He was hungry.

The thought startled him because though he did enjoy eating every once in a while, he didn't really need to. But food sounded really good right now . . .

The second thought came immediately after the first, and it was about how stiff he felt. Snowbanks were very comfortable (to him, at least), but even Jack Frost would feel the need to stretch after lying in the same position for such a long time.

"Ugh, I feel sore," he mumbled groggily, grabbing his staff and running a hand through his hair as he walked to the mouth of the cave. His staff gave a faint blue glow in the dimness, and Jack stopped and stared, open-mouthed, at the thick, green vines barring the cave entrance.

"Flora," he grumbled under his breath. "Jeez, your enchantments get more legit each year."

Jack raised a pale hand to the vines, and they slowly sank back down into the rocky ground. Unfortunately, the snow buildup on the other side avalanched on top of him, earning an undignified "Eep!" from the Spirit of Winter.

"Flora, I swear that one day I'm gonna kill you," he muttered as he sat up from the pile of snow, shaking his head to remove the fluffiness sitting on top of it.

Jack was definitely not a morning person.

When he stepped outside, all the protective magic made by the other two seasonals fell away as well. Jack was about to fly around for a while around his cave to relieve and stretch out his tight muscles when he noticed the Northern Lights (or would it be Southern, given his location?) shimmering in the sky.

"Already?" Jack said, mouth agape. "But I just woke—!" Then he sighed, leaning heavily on his staff. "Guess I better go, then. Wind, take me to the North Pole."

Jack shot off of the mountain, the coldness in the thin air beginning to sharpen his previously-dulled senses. The leftover sleep and crankiness were shaken off with each mile he flew, and he had honestly never felt better. The energy that he regained from his three-month-long nap began to kick in, and he smiled blissfully as Wind tousled his hair.

And in about thirty minutes, Jack was at the North Pole.

He flew through the open window, landing lightly on the red carpet in the Globe Room. Frost traveled from his toes and spiraled outwards as he walked toward the already-assembled Guardians. He raised a hand in hello and grinned. "Hey, guys. What's up? Last time I checked, a meeting wasn't supposed to be scheduled for anoth—"

"Hi, Jack!" Tooth greeted with a warm smile. "How was your nap?"

Jack froze in his tracks and stared at her, wide-eyed. How did Tooth know that he went to sleep? Then he relaxed marginally, reasoning that maybe they thought that he had been asleep before getting here because his hair was messy, but his hair was always messy and oh Moon, if Tooth really knew about his off-season Mother was going to kill him—

His alarm must've shown on his face because Bunny looked up from his sketchbook and said flatly, "Calm yerself down, Frostbite. We know about your 'hibernation' and all that stuff. Flora told us."

Jack gaped, doing an interesting impression of a dying fish. "Flora?" he sputtered, waving his staff wildly. "What—how—" Then he cleared his throat and pronounced firmly, "I have absolutely no idea of who or what you're talking about."

"Cut the act, Frostbite," Bunny said, looking slightly irritated. "We know. And you're a terrible liar, too," he added.

Jack then slumped, sighing. "I guess you do, then, don't you," he said, admitting defeat. "I mean, it would've been hard to keep from you guys for this long."

"How are you feeling, Jack?" North asked kindly.

"Pretty energized," the winter spirit said, taking the seat next to Sandy. "Kinda like I downed a jillion cups of coffee—if I drank any, that is. And a little hungry, too." Then he frowned thoughtfully. "How do you guys know Flora anyway?"

"She, ah . . . kinda threatened ta kill us when we were brought ta your cave by a leaf storm," Bunny said lightly.

Jack laughed, pulling his legs to his chest. "She tends to do that a lot. Flora's really overprotective." Then he paused, a slight frown upon his face as he propped his chin on his knees. "Wait, you were brought to my cave?"

Sandy nodded solemnly at that, while Tooth laughed softly. "That's a little bit of an understatement about Flora," she said. "And, um, we wanted to ask you something, Sweet Tooth. Flora told us something the other day—something that we had never realized about nature spirits." She bit her lip and glanced at Bunny, who was seated next to her.

The Pooka let out a deep breath and set his sketchbook on his lap. "She told us that all nature spirits died before becomin' immortal, Frostbite. We wanted ta know what happened ta ya."

Jack stiffened, his hands clenching into fists in his lap as his feet slid back to the floor. The way Bunny said it made it seem like that it wasn't normal for spirits like them to have died . . . did this mean that Jack wasn't like them? Was he different again?

"No. She's lying," he denied, immediately going on the defensive. "I was chosen just like all you were."

North shook his head. "Jack, it is okay. You can tell us."

"I can't," Jack said stubbornly. "I-I won't."

Jack didn't know why he was so adamant about this. He trusted the Guardians so much, but he absolutely refused to tell them. They couldn't know.

It wasn't like he regretted saving his sister and giving up his life in return—he would do it a million times over just to make sure that she was safe. It was just that this made him feel . . . different than the others. It was just something that felt like should be kept a secret, and it felt shameful to say it aloud, almost like he wasn't clean. He didn't want to be singled-out because he died before becoming the Spirit of Winter, and later the Guardian of Fun.

He stood up, gripping his staff so hard that sparks of frost started to burst out. "I need to go and clear my head," Jack muttered, turning to leave. But as he tried to hurry away, something snagged on the back of his hoodie.

He turned, and saw the worried faces of the other Guardians. Sandy had grabbed onto his sleeve to stop him from leaving, and symbols flashed quickly above his head. Jack had gotten better at reading them, and so he got the gist of it—We won't care about what you tell us. You are still you, and nothing you say will ever stop us from caring about you.

Sandy gave a more insistent tug on Jack's hoodie as he "spoke," making Jack sigh softly. "You really want to know then, huh. What do you want to know first?" he reluctantly said, plopping back down in his seat.

"What year did Mother Nature bring you back?" Tooth immediately asked.

"1712," Jack replied, staring resolutely at his bare feet. "But I think that it was the Man in the Moon who did . . . because he talked to me and told me my name. And I guess that Mother had some say—or all, I dunno—in what kind of spirit I became. My birth—er, rebirth—was a little weird."

North asked his question next. "Jack . . . how was it that you died?"

Ah, dropping the question that no one else wanted to ask, the winter spirit mused, looking up to meet North's gaze.

"I saved my sister," Jack then said quietly. "We were on the pond, ice-skating." A bittersweet smile worked itself upon his face with thoughts of the little girl. "She was so excited that she was old enough to finally learn how to skate, and she dragged me on the ice as I was about to put on my own skates. Since I never actually got a chance to put them on, I had them in my hands as I ran onto the pond with her. And of course," he said with a small laugh, "she already had laced up her skates earlier."

But the smile on his face began to slowly fall away as Jack continued to speak. "The ice was a lot thinner than we realized, though. It began cracking under her feet, and I was terrified—but I kept a brave face on. There was no need to scare her even more. And I . . . I made a game—hopscotch, actually—and I managed to switch our positions with my staff so that she would be on the thicker part of the ice. And I fell in the water instead of her."

Tooth had gasped sharply as he was speaking, bringing her hands up to her mouth. "Jack," she then said, her voice soft, "that was very brave of you. It's no wonder the Man in the Moon wanted you as a Guardian."

Jack shrugged, voicing his earlier thoughts aloud. "I guess. But I would die a million times over just to make sure that my sister survived. She means—um, meant," he corrected quickly, "the world to me."

Jack blamed his grammar mistake on the fact that he spent the entirety of the three months during his off-season having dreams of being human again—not the Spirit of Winter, not the Guardian of Fun, and not even Jack Frost—just being Jackson Isaac Overland, Emma's brown-haired, brown-eyed older brother.

And he missed her . . .

Sandy tapped his shoulder, and formed an image of a calendar above his head, the months quickly flipping from one to the next.

"How old was I when that happened?" Jack guessed, tilting his head. At Sandy's nod, he hesitantly spoke. "I was fourteen."

"So young?" Tooth whispered sadly.

"I actually wasn't sure how old I really was until Easter last year," Jack admitted, fiddling with the folds on his hoodie. "I knew that I had been alive for three hundred years, but then I added on an extra fourteen later."

"Thank you for telling us, Jack," North said, giving a small smile. "I know that it must have been hard, but we are glad you did so."

Jack sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "Well, this was emotionally exhausting," he quipped, his voice slightly muffled due to the fact that his face was covered by his hands.

Bunny snorted. "Well said, Frostbite."

A smile slipped onto Jack's face as lifted his head up to look at the Pooka. "Aww, you do care," he teased, giving the Guardian his best innocent look.

"Rack off, ya bloody show pony," Bunny replied without blinking an eye, or looking up from whatever he was drawing. Then he grinned, ripping out the sheet of paper and handing it to Jack. "Get it in your head, Snowflake. We do care, and don't ya forget it."

Jack laughed, leaning across the table to grab the paper from Bunny. "Yeah, I know." He glanced down at the page, and was surprised to see what was on it. It turned out that Bunny was actually painting, not drawing.

"Bunny . . . what is this?" he asked, looking back up.

"It's all of us, ya little larrikin," the Guardian said impatiently, though a proud sort of look was on his face. "I thought that ya'd be like this when we tried ta ask about some of the touchy subjects, and so I've spent the month tryin' ta add you. Wasn't able ta get the eyes right, but I fin'lly finished when ya arrived."

"We missed you, Jack," Tooth said, a loving smile on her face. "It's a little quiet when you're not here."

"I bet it was," he murmured distractedly, his eyes roaming over the painting again. Jack traced the contours of his tiny drawing-self's pale, smiling face, and wondered if that was really him. It was a remarkable likeness, actually, but did the real him smile that brightly and so carefreely?

Then—

Yes. He did. Jack had never noticed it before, but he seemed to be smiling a lot more now than before. He placed the painting on the table, not comfortable with folding it up and sticking it in his hoodie.

Sandy then reached over and hugged him around his middle, earning a startled "Hey!" from the winter spirit and making him drop his staff in surprise. And before he knew it, North and Tooth had come over as well, their arms surrounding him.

"What are you doing?" Jack demanded, trying to wriggle out of their grips (though he secretly enjoyed it).

A large, furry paw then landed on his head, and Jack twisted around, staring into amused green eyes. "It's called a hug, Snowflake," Bunny said, smirking. "People give 'em to each other."

Jack huffed, throwing the Pooka an irritated glare. Bunny's smirk grew at that, annoying Jack even further. "Whatever, Cottontail," he grumbled, ignoring the fact that Bunny was ruffling his already-messy hair.

Jack was freed from the grips of the other three Guardians, and Tooth fluttered back a few paces and said, "You know you can come talk to me anytime you'd like, Sweet Tooth. About your memories. And I actually have your sister's, if you can believe it."

Jack had been retrieving his staff from where it had clatted onto the floor, but at Tooth's words, his fingers fumbled and the staff slipped from his grip. "W-what?" he stuttered, looking up at her with large, blue eyes. "You have Emma's—"

Tooth nodded, saying, "I found them when I was sorting through all of the tooth boxes. We were able to retrieve her last tooth by the time she turned . . . thirteen, I think, but—"

Jack shot up from the floor and barreled over to her, enveloping the fairy into a hug. "Thank you so much," he whispered.

"Anytime, Sweet Tooth," Tooth said, running a comforting hand through his hair. "Anytime." She held out the winter spirit at arm-length and smiled. "Next time you stop by my place, I'll give you your sister's memories. And yours, if you'd like."

"Thank you," Jack repeated, a huge grin on his face.

He could finally get a glimpse into his sister's life. He would remember some more of who he used to be.

"Emma's your li'l sistah?" Bunny asked, looking thoughtful. "You mentioned 'er once ta me before . . ."

Jack nodded. "Yeah. Emma Overland."

North's head jerked up at that. "Overland, you say? I am . . . familiar with that girl and her brother."

"Yup, that's me!" Jack said cheerily. "Jackson Isaac Overland. Or at least . . . that's who I was."

"No matter," North declared. "You are still Jack, no? And you are one of us."

"North's right," Tooth added. "And by the way, Jack, you can't go back to your cave next year. You have to stay with one of us."

Jack blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Part of the price of being told about where ya were," Bunny muttered. "And something about how the other seasonals aren't able ta protect ya anymore."

Jack's eyes widened. "Oh, of course . . ." he said in realization. "Their powers can't conceal both the power of a Lieutenant of Mother Nature and a Moon-Chosen. They'd cancel each other out with that amount of energy."

Tooth tilted her head. "I thought Flora said that was part of the price," she said hesitantly, looking confused.

Jack snorted as he scooped his staff from the floor. "She just said that to make sound more believable. There aren't prices with things like these. It's just supposed to be a well-kept secret."

"Well, it is nice to see you out and about again, Jack," North boomed jovially. "Stay safe wherever you are."

Jack gave a small laugh, amused. "I will."

When Jack was gone, Bunny sagged down in his seat and sighed.

"So who's gonna take in the kid first next year?"


In Burgess, Jack rapped on his first believer's window, sweating slightly under the heat of summer. "Hey, Jamie? I gotta be quick, but do you mind holding on to this for me?" he asked, holding out Bunny's painting. "I don't exactly have anywhere to keep it yet."

Jamie nodded, taking the piece of paper. "No problem. I'll put it in a frame for you so it won't get ruined. And, um, see you in the fall?" he added hopefully.

Jack smiled, affectionately placing a hand on Jamie's brown hair. "Definitely."


Guest Responses:

Regality: I'm not the best person at explaining things (oh, heaven knows how bad I am at defining words! xD), so I'm glad it made sense!

Guest: Haha, I love getting replies from authors, too. It makes the authors seem more . . . real, you know? It lets me get to know them, and—I dunno, it makes me feel happy. And as for your questions about the other seasonals, I hope I'll be able to answer them for you in an upcoming chapter! :)

TheGhostSeeker: Hmm, I do suppose that you're right about that. I'll admit that I hadn't exactly done any research on that topic, and so mea culpa. I just formed that chapter on the definition alone, so I apologize. Your link did provide some interesting information, though!

Guest (the second one): Thank you! I'm now a half-year older. How you guessed that March 15 is my half-birthday (which was also the answer to the challenge that I put up in the previous chapters) is beyond me. But now that I think about it, did I mention that in a previous chapter? Huh. I can't really remember. ^^;

And thank you so much to everyone who followed and/or favorited! Your support honestly means the world to me. :')