THIS IS SO LATE FORGIVE ME I've been very caught up working on a fic for another fandom skdjfhgsjdh
I'll be going to the KH Orchestra on October 19th in Sydney, so hey if any of you will be going feel free to say hi!
OH LADS! We've got fanart! From the wonderful Ghosti Gabalia!
deviantart mutant-kitty/ art/ Seasonal-Selfie-807470656
(Or if you prefer tumblr:)
mk-gabalia. tumblr post/ 186613554685/ seasonal-selfie-ive-been-binge-ing-the-rise-of
You'll have to add the
c
o
m
and an extra / cause ffn is allergic to links :T
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Spring Fever
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Groundhog day somehow managed to be exactly the same every single year. Same old men, same crowd, same Chuck, unwillingly woken and coddled. But it was a tradition, and, admittedly, hilarious. And it was nice to be able to just sit around with May for a good half hour, just because. (It had been even better since she'd decided she might not actually hate him. It was just a shame that the other two had no reason to come.)
But this year something was different.
May was late.
It was practically unheard of. And when the ceremony started and there was still no sign of her, Jack found himself getting a little worried. It was possible she'd simply decided to skip this year, but she'd been going since the first one way back in 1887. Why would she suddenly stop?
On the stage, one of the men pulled a sullen Chuck from his hutch. Chuck caught his gaze and glared. Jack waved to him, not even bothering to hide his grin.
A sudden floral scent on the breeze diverted Jack's attention, just as a figure leapt up onto the branch above him. He looked up, ready to ask what had kept her, only for the words to die in his throat. It wasn't May Queen who had joined him.
A woman with long blonde hair and a bright face smiled down at him airily. "Sorry I'm late," she said. "To be honest, I didn't want to come."
Jack stared at her, struggling to put a name to her face. "Persephone?" he guessed.
"Hello! What did I miss?"
Nothing, really. The men were still pretending Chuck was talking to them. (He was, but it was more cursing than contemplation of shadows.)
"Where's May?" Jack asked, ignoring her question.
Persephone, focused on the humans, waved a flippant hand in his general direction. "Sick, apparently. Which means I'm in charge of spring for the next few days." She didn't seem particularly thrilled about it. But, then, he'd heard once that tales of her 'abduction' to the Underworld had been greatly exaggerated. (How true that actually was, he didn't know. It didn't seem polite to ask.)
"It's an early spring!" the men declared, to much applause.
Persephone huffed, sliding off her branch. "Best get started then," she muttered. Then, brighter, "Oh, Jack Frost! I've been asked to tell you that the May Queen would like you to stop by before you start your break." Then she was gone, just as quickly as she'd come.
Jack stared after her. May wanted to see him? When she was sick? He waved again to Chuck – there would be no messing with Bunny this year, unfortunately – and then headed north towards England.
.
.
There was no sign of winter – even the tail-end of it – anywhere within a five kilometre radius of May's cottage. This in itself wasn't particularly weird – winter never touched her garden – but it normally didn't extend so far beyond it. And, really, Jack should have taken it as a warning sign.
He knocked lightly on the front door, and listened as a clang came from somewhere inside, followed by the sound of shuffling feet. The door eased open, and May looked up at him wearily. She looked terrible. She was pale, and her nose was red. Her hair was free from its usual braid, and messier than he'd thought physically possible anything of hers could ever be.
May sighed at the sight of him, wrapped her dressing gown a little tighter around herself, and leaned forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder.
"Oh thank Mother Nature," she breathed.
Jack resisted the overwhelming urge to fidget, and tried to decide what he was supposed to do. "You really must be sick," he found himself saying.
"It's just a cold." Her flippant, nasally tone contradicted the relief she was showing at his arrival. "I'll be fine in a few days."
Then why had she called him here? "Persephone said you wanted to see me…?"
May hummed in affirmation. She still hadn't lifted her head. Jack could feel how warm she was through his hoodie. A fever?
"Did you need me to do something?" Jack tried.
"Save me."
Save…?
Out of nowhere, a quilt was draped heavily over her, and the next thing Jack knew, she'd been rolled up into a spring roll, and hauled onto a third person's shoulder.
"I told you to stay in bed!" Lleu huffed. He was wearing an apron.
Somewhere within the blanket, May groaned.
Ah. It all made sense now.
"Oh!" Lleu beamed, catching sight of Jack still standing awkwardly in the doorway. "Hey, Snow Cone!"
"What are you doing here?" Jack sighed.
"Ceres told me May was sick, so I came to take care of her."
"I'll kill her," May said.
"Since you're here," Lleu shoved the blanket burrito into Jack's arms. "Can you put her back to bed, please? I need to get back to the soup." He turned, disappearing into the kitchen.
Jack set May back on her feet, and unwrapped her enough that her head, at least, was free. She looked completely miserable. "I'm begging you," she said. "Save me."
He almost wanted to laugh, but she already looked one tease away from double murder-suicide, and he wasn't feeling particularly lucky.
"I'll see what I can do," he promised, already regretting it, and herded her off towards her bedroom. "You just try and get some sleep, okay?"
"Don't destroy my house," was all May said, shutting the door behind her.
Now that he couldn't promise.
Lleu was, as he'd said, in the kitchen, humming over a large pot. The cutting board on the bench beside him still had vegetable scraps on it. It smelled pretty good, which only added to the weirdness. Since when could Lleu cook?
He turned when he heard Jack enter, and passed him a small cup of cooled soup. "Here, taste this for me."
Bemused, Jack did as he asked. It wasn't bad. "It could use a little more salt."
Lleu nodded, reaching for the salt shaker on the shelf above him. Jack watched him for several long minutes. How was he supposed to derail this? He'd promised May he'd try and get him to go home but… he wasn't liking his chances. When Lleu committed to something he was all in.
"Pass me a bowl? I think it's ready."
He pointed to one of the lower cupboards, and Jack opened it to find an assortment of crockery. Given how well he knew his way around May's kitchen, it was probably fair to assume this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this.
"So hey," Jack said, passing Lleu the bowl and watching him fill it. "May seems pretty tired. She'd probably sleep better if she didn't have to worry about us rummaging through her stuff."
Lleu opened a drawer and pulled out a soup spoon. He spared Jack a brief glance and a reassuring smile as he carefully squeezed past without touching him. "Is it really rummaging if I already know where things are?"
Jack frowned, following him back to May's room. He knocked on her door and waited for her barely audible 'come in' before opening it. Jack lingered in the doorway as Lleu brought her the soup with a cheery,
"Eat as much as you want. There's plenty more."
May's exasperation was palpable, but when she accepted it, her gratitude was genuine.
"I'm gonna go clean up a bit, but I'll be just in the other room if you need anything. I mean anything. Can I get you anything now? A glass of water, maybe?"
May rolled her eyes. "It's just a cold. You're overreacting."
Lleu grabbed a blanket from the foot of her bed and layered it on top of the other three she was already buried under. If he'd heard her comment, he elected to ignore it. "I'm gonna go get you more water."
Jack stayed put this time, meeting May's eyes when she set the bowl down in her lap. He offered her an apologetic smile.
"I'll think of something," he said.
May stared down at her soup. "I know he means well."
"He just shows it in an overbearing way," Jack chuckled.
"Yes. But I can't really blame him for it. He has firsthand experience of how an illness can get out of hand. I think he gets so caught up in it, that he forgets spirits can't die from disease."
It took a minute for Jack to realise what she was talking about. Right. From what he knew, Lleu had become a spirit just before the Black Plague had hit. He'd probably known a lot of people who'd caught it. Still, times had changed since then. They had better medicine now. And this really was just a cold.
Jack nodded, slipping back out to the kitchen. Deterring Lleu wasn't going to work. But maybe reassuring him would.
He nearly jumped when a glass was pressed against his face. Lleu held it there for a few seconds before pulling back with a grin.
"Instant ice water!"
"Uh… you're welcome?" Jack blinked.
Lleu made to move past him again, but Jack quickly blocked the way with his staff.
"She's gonna be fine, you know," he said. "It really is just a cold. She'll sleep it off."
"I know." Lleu's smile had slipped from his face. He looked uncharacteristically serious.
"So why don't we let her rest? You can check in on her later. She'll get better quicker, and she'll be back to help with spring before you know it."
Lleu tensed, and Jack had barely a moment to wonder what he'd said wrong, before he whispered, horrified, "Oh no. Spring." He shifted, as if he wanted to grab Jack by the shoulders, but aborted the movement at the last second. "You went to see the groundhog, right?"
"…Yeah?"
"And?"
"Early spring?"
"Oh no!"
"What?" Jack frowned, completely lost now. "What do you mean, 'oh no'?"
Lleu started pacing. "How can there be spring without May?"
"Persephone and the other spri-"
"They've lost their captain! It'll be anarchy!"
Jack shook his head, and tried to calm him down with gestures alone. "They'll be fine. Persephone was in charge once, wasn't she?"
"Yeah, like several hundred years ago. Before she quit! She has to be bribed by Ceres just to show up now!"
"You're overreacting a bit, don't you think?"
"Am I? It's like… Like asking Old Man Winter to run winter for you!"
That was an unsettling thought, not that Jack would ever admit it. "That's completely different," he argued. Old Man Winter liked harsh weather. "You can't kill people with spring."
"You can if you're married to Hades!"
This was getting very rapidly out of hand. Jack floundered for a way to fix it.
"We know May best," Lleu stopped, spinning around to face Jack properly. "And we're experienced at leading seasons."
Jack had a very bad feeling about where this was going.
"I have an idea. We will take May's place!"
"What."
"She'll be able to rest easy knowing spring is in capable hands."
"Lleu-"
But Lleu had stopped listening. With a satisfied nod, he ducked under Jack's staff and out of the room. By the time he caught up, Lleu had already placed the glass down beside the now empty bowl on May's bedside table, and was talking to what little could be seen of her in her cocoon of blankets.
"Don't worry, May," he was saying. "We'll take care of everything. Can I borrow something from your wardrobe?"
"…Why?" May croaked. Then, "Actually, I don't want to know."
"Is that a yes?"
"If it is, will you let me sleep?"
"I promise."
"Then yes."
Lleu beamed, and tucked the blankets so securely around her that she completely disappeared from view. "I'll come check on you later."
May's reply was too muffled to be understood.
Lleu drifted over to the wardrobe, and started flicking through the coat hangers. Every now and then, he paused to squint at Jack, and then carried on.
"May, you're so small," he lamented when he ran out of clothes to appraise. He settled on a pastel pink scarf, and May's white sunhat. With a gesture, he ushered Jack outside.
Jack had a feeling he should run while he still could. But… he had made a promise. And the curiosity of what, exactly, Lleu was planning would only continue niggling at him.
"Here," Lleu threw the scarf around Jack's neck, tightening it securely. He then placed the hat on his own head, and surveyed his handiwork. "It'll have to do."
Jack glanced down at the scarf, and raised a brow. "Excuse me?"
"If we're going to herald spring, we have to at least try and look the part."
"Whoa, whoa whoa," Jack held his hands up, as if that could somehow stop the living trainwreck in front of him. "Herald spring? I don't know if you've noticed, but neither of us are spring spirits. I'm as far from a spring spirit as you can get."
Lleu nodded diplomatically, as if what Jack was saying was both very true and very dumb. "Ah, but together…"
"Lleu."
"Jack."
"You're insane."
"Or a genius! Think about it. Spring comes between winter and summer, right? So if we combine our powers, they'll balance out and make spring."
This was a terrible idea. There was no way this was going to work. But he took one look at Lleu's very motivated face and knew there was no getting out of this. Whether Jack helped or not was irrelevant now. Something was going to happen. And Jack could either leave him to it, or stay and try to do some damage control.
.
.
Damage control could not save them now.
Jack had been careful to remind Lleu what happened when cold air and hot air met, and they'd made a point of having Jack linger in an area before Lleu arrived, to ensure that at most they would get rain and not catastrophic storms. And yeah, okay, so Lleu had been able to melt the snow and Jack's presence had helped to take the edge off his natural heat. And okay, so maybe it looked like it was working at least a little when the water and the warmth had been enough to coax out a few plant buds poking through the soil.
But this was…
Hmm.
Not ideal.
"Dibs not being the one to tell her," Lleu said.
Jack whirled on him. "This was your idea!"
"I promise to make it up to you once she's done killing you?"
Jack glared at him. There was no way he was taking the fall for this. Not least because he already knew May wouldn't stop until she'd destroyed them both. "There is literally nothing you could offer me that would convince me to take the blame for this." The urge to say 'I told you so' was very, very strong. But it would accomplish nothing. And at least one of them had to be the adult. Lleu might have been older, but he definitely did not fit the description.
Lleu sighed, resigned. "I guess we should probably tell her while she's still sick. That way we can make a run for it and she won't be able to keep up."
As if that would stop her. No one could hold a grudge quite like May. Except maybe Bunny.
Jack straightened as an idea hit him. "Bunny," he said.
Lleu turned to him. "Huh?"
"Bunny. If anyone can fix this-" he waved a hand out in front of him "-it's Bunny."
Something like hope lit up Lleu's face. "You're right! But, wait, isn't he busy this time of year?"
He was. Easter was creeping closer, and he'd probably be annoyed enough that they were bothering him, let alone why. Jack wasn't sure whose wrath he'd rather face: Bunny's or May's.
"You have any better ideas?"
The look on Lleu's face was answer enough. The only other option was just confessing. And they'd already unanimously decided not to do that. "Fine. But you're asking!"
"What? Why me?"
"Because he secretly likes you. He's less likely to kill you."
Well that was debatable.
.
.
Jack was already regretting this decision before he and Lleu even stepped foot in the Warren. But it was too late to turn back now. With a sigh, Jack gestured for Lleu to follow him; he was familiar enough with the place that he knew where to start looking.
They barely managed five steps.
Something snagged on Jack's foot, and he gasped as the ground lurched out from under him. Or, rather, he lurched off the ground. By the time his vision cleared, it was already too late to do anything. He was hanging in a net from a tree, half upside-down, his staff dropped on the grass way beneath him, and something burning his back.
He winced at the sensation, and tried to get as far from the cause as possible.
"Sorry, sorry!" Lleu cried, wriggling in an attempt to put distance between them, but only managing to get them more tangled. "Why are we in a net? I thought Bunny was a vegetarian!"
"He is," Jack said. He tugged at the rope, but it didn't give. Bunny certainly knew how to tie a knot. They weren't getting out on their own. His hoodie was already damp from melted frost. The rest of him would be next if he didn't get some space between him and Lleu soon. "Bunny! Help!"
Lleu continued to squirm. He made a noise like he was dying. "It's like having an ice cube down your shirt," he cringed.
"Stop moving!" Jack snapped at him. "If I'm an ice cube, you're lava!"
Lleu did not stop moving. In fact, Jack's words only seemed to increase his vigour to somehow squeeze himself through one of the tiny holes in the net.
"Can't you burn a hole in it or something?"
"I could, but I wouldn't be able to put it out," Lleu grimaced. It went without saying that that was a bad idea. Bunny really would kill them if they set a fire here.
Smug laughter drew Jack's attention downwards. Bunny was grinning up at him, leaning casually on Jack's staff. "Not getting' the drop on me this year, mate."
"Bunny!" Jack sighed in relief. Help at last. "Get us down!"
"I don't know. Maybe I'll leave you up there for a while. Payback for dumpin' snow on me every goddamn year."
Jack frowned. What?
Oh. He thought he'd come to 'tell' him the news from Groundhog Day. Was this karma? Probably.
"What's he talking about?" Lleu asked nervously. "He's not really gonna leave us up here is he?"
Jack turned to him as best he could. "He thinks you're Chuck. We… uh… like to celebrate extended winters."
Lleu shot as upright as he could. Jack hissed as a super-heated elbow jabbed him in the leg. "Do I look like a groundhog to you?!"
"Stop moving!" Jack kicked him. He instantly regretted it. It was like sticking his foot in boiling water. He'd probably tanned back to a healthy skin tone by now.
Bunny's eyes widened as he realised who, exactly, he'd actually caught. A boomerang sailed overhead, and struck the branch their prison was tied to. The net plummeted.
They hit the ground hard. Even with the wind knocked out of them, Jack and Lleu all but leapt away from each other. Jack threw himself onto his back, just taking a moment to let his body temperature readjust.
"You good?" Lleu wheezed.
A few burns, but he'd live. "Yeah. You?"
"Yeah."
Bunny stood over them both, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Mind tellin' me what's goin' on?" It did not sound like a question. He eyed Jack's borrowed scarf and the hat on the grass beside Lleu and raised a brow.
Lleu slowly pushed himself up. He took one look at Bunny, looming over them with all the soft understanding and empathy of a natural disaster, and tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh. "You know what? I think I'm gonna say no."
Bunny stared at him, somehow managing to convey 'I dare you' with a completely neutral expression.
Jack, who had either more confidence or a death wish, decided to just get it over with. There was nothing Bunny could do to them that wouldn't pale against their untimely deaths should May find out. "We need help."
Lleu turned betrayed eyes on him. Bunny raised a brow. "With?"
"May's sick," Jack continued, watching Lleu's face contort into an increasingly exaggerated grimace with every word. "And we wanted to help her out…"
Bunny heaved a sigh. "What did ya do?"
Lleu put his head in his hands. "If it counts for anything, our intentions were good."
Bunny was not impressed. "Road to hell, mate."
"At least the weather will be nice there," Lleu cringed. "…Can't say the same for the rest of England."
Bunny blinked slowly, and Jack got the impression he was trying to summon the will to live. "What did ya do?" he repeated, closing his eyes.
"We tried to help with spring," Jack confessed.
"Keyword: tried," Lleu added.
"And since you're kind of a spring spirit, and you're less likely to actively try to kill us-"
"The net says otherwise."
"-we figured you'd be the best person to ask for help?"
Bunny took it all in silently. Jack was fully expecting him to blow up. The quiet was both unexpected and very concerning. They watched as slowly, with every passing second, his expression grew increasingly angry.
Lleu suddenly clapped loudly, jumping to his feet. He pulled Jack up by his hood with one hand, and snatched back his staff from Bunny with the other. "Well! Thank you for your time, Mr Bunnymund, sir, but it's probably time we got going, and-"
Lleu cut himself off when Bunny looked at him. "It's three weeks till Easter," he said, voice low. Then, to Jack, "Why does every spring have to be an ordeal with you?"
Jack grinned. "You'd get bored otherwise."
Bunny turned contemplative. "I'll make ya a deal."
"We're listening." Or, well, Jack was listening. Lleu didn't appear to be entirely present anymore.
"I will help ya clean up whatever mess you've managed to get yourself into this time, and in exchange you and Chuck have to leave me alone next spring. No bloody snow in my Warren. Deal?"
Jack stuck out his hand. "Deal."
They shook on it.
.
.
Bunny took one look at the glade, and visibly went through the five stages of grief.
"I have half a mind to just let May deal with ya," he said.
"Can't do that. We made a deal," Jack protested.
"I said I'd help. I didn't say how."
Lleu gaped. "Wow. A children's holiday icon and a sleazy businessman? Capitalism's starting to get to you, isn't it? For shame."
Bunny ignored him, footsteps crunching as he stepped further into the glade. The grass was brown, and most of the surrounding plant life was somewhere on the scale of half-dead to extinct. With the exception of the thistles, naturally, which had grown out of control. The affected area was several kilometres wide, but this was definitely the heart of it.
"How did ya even manage this?" Bunny asked, incredulous.
"Honestly, we were hoping that the warmth of summer combined with the wet part of winter would help the plants grow," Lleu shrugged. "But it… uh… did the opposite of that."
Bunny crouched down to lift the very sad leaves of a small fern. "Ya flash froze them and then cooked 'em, ya gumbies."
Jack grimaced apologetically. "Can you fix it?"
The question answered itself. Already, Jack could see the grass starting to revive around where Bunny was standing. He made a shooing motion. "It'll take a while but it's doable. You two get lost. And if I hear about ya messing with spring again, I'll personally be the one to drag ya to May. Got it?"
Lleu straightened. "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" He even offered a salute. And the next thing Jack knew, wide eyes were being turned on him as if to say 'Oh my god run'.
.
.
Jack was ready to head up to North's and put this entire day behind him. Unfortunately, they still needed to return May's borrowed clothes, and Jack shared Lleu's desire to at least check in on her and make sure she was okay.
As Lleu let himself in through the front door of the cottage, he pointed at Jack and hissed, "We do not speak of this again."
"Agreed," Jack nodded hastily, already pulling the scarf from around his neck.
May was dozing when they eased open her bedroom door. Lleu took the scarf and the hat, and tip-toed his way over to the wardrobe. The floorboards groaned.
"Hh?" May blinked sluggishly.
"This is just a dream," Lleu said softly. "Go back to sleep."
"Nightmare," she corrected. "Since you're here, would you mind getting me some more water please?"
"Absolutely." And Lleu disappeared back out into the hallway.
Jack walked quietly to her bedside, and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. She was still warm, and the way she leaned into him told him she was definitely still feeling the fever. "You doing okay?"
May hummed an affirmative. "Just gotta sleep it off."
"We'll be out of your hair in a minute."
She glanced up at him, and he couldn't help the indignation that came with her very expectant expression. Somehow, she knew that something had gone down. And she knew that Jack knew she knew.
"I really don't want to know," she said, when the silence stretched on.
"Probably for the best."
Guest Review Responses:
Demi clayton: Thank you! I've been really bad at keeping to an update schedule for this sorry :I I used to do a little poetry for class, mostly, but not so much these days ^^;
Milly: Eyyyy fellow Aussie! Always love finding more of us ;) Honestly I have no idea what lending someone a lobster means (never even heard it before) skjdfhgksjh I reckon they'd know a little from Bunny, but for the most part it's just a language they don't understand lmao