I Found A Light Inside Me

by MarkTwainTwo

Jack Frost was once Nightlight. Nightlight knows that, but Jack Frost can't remember. Tsar Lunar knows that, but he cannot speak to them. Manny used to know that, but he can't remember. So really, no one knows. Until Jack Frost is three-hundred-and-seventeen, and Pitch comes back, and Guardians and Frost combine. And maybe someone will remember. (Retelling of RotG.)

Disclaimer: Characters (unless otherwise stated) are from The Guardians of Childhood and Rise of the Guardians by William Joyce and Dreamworks respectively. Plot belongs to MarkTwainTwo (hi!).

Note Number One: Okay, so I don't know how many people (if any) have read my other two fanfictions. If you have, you might know I don't update often. Sorry! Sorry I'm starting another story without finishing or updating the other two! I will at some point! *smiles sheepishly* I'm really sporadic and may or may not finish what I start, but I will try really really hard to update, at least.

Note Number Two: I tried to stay canon-compliant, but I have a weird obsession with making characters' lives even more depressing than they started with. Sorry not sorry. There will be differences, but I tried to keep them pretty minimal. Plus, Jack Frost has 300 years worth of backstory that's barely been described so I can mix a lot of trauma in there if I want. We'll see.

Okay, on with the story!

-/-

Nightlight, bright light, sweet dreams I bestow. Sleep tight, all night, forever I will glow.

Nightlight, bright light, sweet dreams I bestow.

Nightlight, brightlight...

Nightlight...

Night...

Light...

Oh, light. So high, so far away. But... coming closer. Must reach the light, must reach the light. Soft light, so soft. Light from the moon. Down here it is so dark, so cold. Such a cold thing I break through, too. Except, not. Now it is not cold. What is this? This warmth, from the light from the moon from so far away? I should reach it. Ah, but now I go back to the ice- yes, that is what it is. Ice. Snow. It mends, too, beneath my feet.

Who am I? Oh, hello Moon. What's that? My name is Jack? Jack Frost.

And this? A stick? Ah! A magic stick! It is a conduit, Moon? For ice, and snow? Yes, I will use it and bring fun to children.

But why am I here? Who was I before?

No! No, do not leave! Where are you going? Where does this wind take me? Why can no one see me, why do they pass through me? Do not leave! I must have answers! Please, do not go! Please!

Why am I here?

That was three hundred years ago. The Man in the Moon hasn't spoken to me since.