Hello my lovelies! I finally managed to get my butt into gear and do some writing!

So this is the last of the requests I've got lined up (but don't worry, I've been accumulating a bunch of ideas while I was writing assignments XD) So, Seryyth, this one's for you. For those of you people who have no idea what's going on, this chapter features Seryyth's OC Storyteller (Story) the Pixie King. If you feel so inclined, feel free to drop by Seryyth's profile page and check out the stories there.

Also, Seryyth, if there's anything I screwed up or any changes you want me to make, please don't hesitate to let me know. Story's your OC and I want to be able to do my very best to live up to whatever standards you hold (and do your character justice!)

Disclaimer: I don't own RotG or The Guardians of Childhood

...

Of Wayward Kings and Striking Resemblances

...

Jack laughed joyously as he soared above the town, the wind easily carrying his light form, whistling in his ears all the while. It was evening here, but still he set about settling snow all over. He would guarantee a snow day for the kids the following morning. After all, why would anyone want to be in school when they could be having fun in the snow?

Winter was finally in full-swing and Jack intended to make every second count.

Jack landed nimbly on the powerlines, only to freeze the cables as he ran along before jumping the distance to a nearby rooftop. Snow had started to fall steadily from the sky, dark clouds blocking out most of the stars. But it was worth it. And the kids would have a great start of the season.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that Jack Frost?"

Jack paused on the edge of the roof, half-way through preparing to volt to a large tree. The voice was familiar, but not one he'd heard in a while. He spun around, searching through the lamp-lit night for the source.

"Up here!"

Jack followed the voice to a small tree, easily spotting two figures perched casually on a thin branch. The taller of the two, a pixie with windswept dark green hair, was watching him with sparkling green eyes and a smug smile that didn't quite mask the obvious delight he was feeling. Nestled closely beside him, a tiny hand clutching the first pixie's shirt, was a smaller, feminine pixie with her red hair, stereotypically, in a pixie cut.

Jack broke into a beaming grin as he recognised him.

"Story?" he gaped, barely able to believe what he was seeing.

"The one and only," Story mock-bowed. "It's been a while."

'A while' was a huge understatement. It had been years since Jack had seen the Pixie King.

"Where have you been?" Jack asked, allowing the wind to scoop him up and move him closer.

"I only know bits and pieces," Story shrugged, his smile slipping and his eyes going cold. "But I do know Pitch is behind it."

Jack frowned. Pitch hadn't been a problem for a while now – to the Guardians, at least – the thought that he'd still been a threat and they hadn't known about it was unsettling.

"He manipulated me," Story continued. "Tricked me into using my powers to spread fear. I managed to get away, and mostly managed to suppress the Fearlings, but they're still on me. I can feel them, but I don't know where they are. As I am now, I can't use my powers."

Jack's frown turned into an angry glare which he directed at the ground. Pitch had no sense of boundaries. The next time he saw him, Jack swore to make him regret his actions. In the meantime, though…

"The Fearlings are suppressing your powers, right?"

A nod.

"So, then, if we can find a way to get rid of them, you should be able to go back to normal?"

"It's not that easy," Story sighed. "Believe me, I've tried. It takes a lot more than will power and hope to remove Fearlings."

Jack bit his lip, thinking hard. There had to be a way to remove them. The proverbial light bulb flickered on.

"What about Sandy? I've seen him turn Nightmares into good dreams. Maybe he can do the same with the Fearlings."

"Nightmares and Fearlings are very different, Jack. For one, Fearlings aren't made of tainted dream sand."

"Well, there's gotta be a way."

"I'm sure Pitch would know – he's the one who put them there, after all. But I'm more likely to get the Easter Bunny to admit Christmas is better than convince Pitch to release his hold on me."

"Maybe we won't have to convince him," Jack smirked, glancing at the houses below them.

...

...

They waited until night had once and truly fallen, the time when even most of the adults were asleep, before they moved into action; mucking around in the fresh snow while they waited. The plan was simple – all they had to do was find a Nightmare and follow it back to where Pitch was hiding these days. Then they would 'persuade' him to free Story. Simple.

Heh. If only.

Actually finding a Nightmare proved itself to be harder than they'd expected. Pitch's defeat at the hands of the Guardians and the kids of Burgess had been more successful than they'd thought. But, like Pitch had said, there would always be fear.

By the time they thought they'd found one, Sandy's dream sand would float in through the window and turn the Nightmare back into a good dream. It almost reached the point of Jack going out to find the Sandman and asking him to stop for five minutes at least. Not that the man would agree. But it was for a good cause! And he'd be sure to repay the poor kid with the best snow day ever.

The three of them skittered past window after window, giving the sleeping children a brief glance to check for a Nightmare before moving on to the next one.

Jack halted in front of a window, so into the rhythm of checking and continuing, that he barely registered what he was looking at before the wind carried him off again. He froze, mid-way to the next window, and spun back around, urging the wind to retrace his path as quickly as possible. His jaw dropped open at what he saw.

"Story!" he whisper-yelled, craning his head around in an attempt to spot the pixie. "Story!"

The pixie in question appeared upon a nearby rooftop. Jack motioned him over with a frantic hand gesture.

"What is it?" Story asked, hovering at the winter spirit's side.

"Look," Jack breathed, not tearing his eyes from the window.

There was what could only be described as a glowing boy standing before the bed of a sleeping girl. They watched as he stabbed the tip of his crystalline daggered staff into a forming Nightmare, obliterating it in unimaginably bright light.

Intrigued, and partially blinded, Jack pushed open the window and he and the two pixies slipped inside.

The glowing boy looked up at them in shock, taking a hesitant step backwards. He didn't look very old – around the same age (in appearance) as Jack himself, with white hair – some strands longer than others – and pale green eyes. He was rather gangly and was dressed in what appeared to be armour.

"Whoa," Jack breathed. "This is creepy."

It was like looking at himself – apart from a number of small differences.

"Who are you?"

The glowing boy seemed as confused as Jack was. "Nightlight," he managed, his voice barely a whisper, looking rather bemused.

"I'm Jack Frost, and this is Story," he gestured to the pixie. "And his friend who I have yet to learn the name of."

"Her name is Aetha," Story said, looking back at Jack.

Nightlight looked from pixie to winter spirit and nodded.

"So, uh, Nightlight," Jack glanced quickly at the little girl who remained blissfully unaware of what was happening around her. "How did you do that? With the Nightmare, I mean."

Nightlight followed his line of sight before raising his spear, displaying a warm glow that travelled from his body to the crystal where it intensified.

"The light, huh?"

Nightlight's nod was confirmation enough.

"Do you… Are you able to use it to get rid of Fearlings, as well?"

Story turned sharply to stare at Jack, quickly picking up on the youngest Guardian's train of thought.

Nightlight, apparently, didn't. He looked even more confused than before, but nodded all the same.

"Do you think you could do me a huge favour?"

Nightlight raised an eyebrow in questioning, a small smile on his face.

"See, my friend here's been corrupted by Fearlings and they're stopping him from using his powers. I was wondering if you'd, you know, help him get rid of them?" Jack shrugged. "I mean, if you're fighting the Nightmares, you can't be sided with Pitch, right?"

At the mention of Pitch, Nightlight's expression became hard. He turned his gaze on Story, as if trying to locate the Fearlings by sight alone. Whatever was running through his mind, he seemed to come to a decision. His serious expression melted away into a warm smile that seemed far more at home on his friendly face.

Slowly, the glowing boy stepped around the bed towards them, gesturing for Story to move closer. He looked over every inch of the pixie, trying to identify where the Fearlings were hiding. After a moment he shrugged helplessly.

"You can't find them?" Jack voiced the other boy's thoughts. "They have to be there, though."

Nightlight bit his lip, his face scrunching in thought. He seemed to find an idea, as his whole face brightened. Carefully setting aside his spear, he gently cupped his hands, using them to scoop the tiny Pixie King out of the air. Nightlight nodded, as if to ask if Story was ready.

The pixie murmured something to Aetha, and she fluttered over to sit on Jack's shoulder, albeit hesitantly.

"I'm ready," Story told the glowing boy, even as his face betrayed his confusion.

The glow around Nightlight's hands steadily grew brighter until it was like he was holding a ball of light. Story's miniscule form was barely distinguishable from within the white.

They all jumped back as black liquid shadow flung itself away from the base of Story's wings, desperate to escape the burning light. As soon as Story was free, Nightlight released him, swiftly grabbing his spear and holding it at the ready.

Jack likewise tightened his grip on his staff, watching the Fearlings as they swarmed around the room.

"What the- Are those Fearlings?" Jack asked, his eyes wide. In all his 300 or so years he'd never seen anything like them before.

The Fearlings lunged, as if in an attempt to possess one of the four creatures in the room. Jack reacted more out of instinct than anything, blasting the living shadows and freezing them solid. Even frozen they were creepy. Far creepier than any of the Nightmares.

Nightlight frowned, hefting his spear. The crystalline tip glowed brighter until it was like a beacon in the darkness and he plunged it into the mass of ice and fear. Much like the girl's Nightmare, the Fearlings were easily obliterated within seconds.

They all stood in silence for a few moments, staring at where the Fearlings had been but now only flecks of ice remained.

"So that happened," Jack muttered, almost to himself. He jerked his head up to face Story, who happily accepted Aetha back at his side. "You okay now?"

Story opened his mouth to speak but no words escaped him. He sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting Jack's gaze with a smile. He nodded, clearly ecstatic at being completely free again, even if it came with consequences. The pixie turned to Nightlight and bowed his thanks.

"Yeah, that was incredible," Jack added. "We owe you big time."

Nightlight simply shook his head, much to say they didn't need to repay him, but Jack would be sure to do so anyway.

"So, Story, you gonna head back to your forest? I bet you've got a lot of catching up to do."

Story grinned; it had been a long time since he'd been home. He made as if to fly back out the window but hesitated, looking back over his shoulder at the two white-haired immortal boys.

"Don't worry," Jack reassured him. "I'll be sure to come visit once you've settled in again. Maybe I'll even bring Nightlight."

Story smiled and nodded once more before zipping out into the darkness.

"So, Nightlight," Jack said conversationally, turning his attention to the glowing boy. "You sure we're not related?"