AyameKitsune : Thank you for your support ! I hope you'll like the others OS as well !

sparklehannah : Ouf ! You don't know how much I'm relieved ! I usually don't have difficulties creating good OCs and developping their relationship, but this time it was a little different because I didn't want them to be friends or foe, just people who had known each other for a long time and work more or less together, but with still some complicity. And as for Mother Nature... I had to at least re-write it three or four times before I found a version that pleased me x) Moon and Nature spirits is just my mind trying to find logic in a fictional universe which lacks a little of it. And than you for your review of course !

Timeline : 2012/2013
Characters : Jack, North and Aoife
Words : 1165

In three hundred years, North had never met Jack Frost. He had heard about him of course, he had tried to enter his workshop countless times after all, but he could only caught glimpses of him before the yetis threw him out in the snow.

He wondered then, what face was hiding under the hood. He knew about the rumors, dark words whispered whenever his name was mentioned. "If you look into his eyes, you die," "his breath can freeze a whole country," "his claws can even pierce hard rock skin," "his face is the one of Death."

While frightening, the firsts ones were pretty ridiculous, Jack Frost had encountered many spirits, and as far as North knew, he hadn't hurt anyone, much less killed them.

The last one however, always intrigued him. What was so disturbing about Frost's appearance that gave him this rumor ?

For a while, he put this thought on the count of weak-minded spirits that were afraid of all little things, and even when he actually met him for the first time, he didn't see anything that should have deserved such a dark reputation.

It was only when he came face to face with him, separated from all the other Guardians, that North understood something was off.

Jack Frost was distinctly from the human race, but his skin was paler than anyone's else. Even his lips were faded. He was astonishingly still too, never blinking, neither sniffing, only moving when the conversation made him uncomfortable.

But worst of all, there was something uneasy about his aura, not like a human, but not like any other being either.

North knew Jack wasn't a bad person, Manny wouldn't have chosen him otherwise and he didn't sense any malevolent vibe since they brought him here, but there was still something strange about him.

He didn't know what it was, and maybe he would never know, but it wouldn't prevent him from keeping an eye on him.

Jack's POV

One,

He squeezed his grip harder

Two,

He took a deep breath, even if he didn't need air.

Three,

With a newfound determination, he finally pierced his skin.

It hurt more than he thought it would, but he didn't stop nonetheless. With a morbid fascination, he watched the dagger sink into his arm. When he deemed it was enough, he pulled it out.

Nothing came.

Disappointed, Jack dug the dagger again in the open wound. He hissed in pain, but he still made a point to extend the gash.

He removed it, and this time he could finally see something. There was blood indeed, but it was purple and completely frozen. At first, he thought it was moving slowly, but when he looked harder he could see it was absolutely motionless.

Jack frowned. It wasn't what he was hoping for, but it was still better than the other option. At least his body was still somewhat human.

It didn't comfort him, still.

After throwing the dagger aside, he crawled to the edge of the lake.

It was the full moon, his reflection was perfectly clear. He gazed at it for a long time.

Maybe it was because of the light, but this night his white skin particularly stood out and emphasized his veins. He had always thought it had something to do with his link to Winter, but now, thanks to the recent events, he could tell it wasn't the reason.

He was only a corpse, after all.

Jack didn't know what crossed his mind, Aoife wasn't his friend, she was the Seasonal who liked him the least and wasn't the best when it came to emotional support. But he couldn't keep it any longer.

"How did you become a spirit ?" He asked bluntly one day when she fetched him to settle a temperature problem.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his question.

"Well, duh, I was born a spirit." She said in a toneless voice.

Jack bit his lips in embarrassment. Of course it was a stupid question, Aoife was a fairy.

"Yes bu-but," he stammered, "You're the only one who's immortal, the others die after a few centuries, right ? So, how did you became the Spirit of Fall ?"

"Mother Nature chose me," she shrugged, "One day she came to me, and after a little… discussion, I was the new Autumn's shepherd."

He wasn't fooled, he knew there was more to that story, but if she didn't want to share, then he had to respect it.

Her explanation however, did nothing to appease him.

"But you were alive ?" He asked unsure.

"Of course, I was, why wouldn't I ?"

The supposition he was so afraid of finally came true. He didn't know what happened to the other Seasonals, but by Aoife's reaction he could say there were still alive when Mother Nature chose them.

He didn't really know how to feel. It wasn't bad per se, there was worse situation, but it still bugged him a little. Maybe because it left him like the odd one again.

Aoife looked at his gloom face for a long time, but Jack didn't met her gaze.

"Seriously, why would you ask me that ?"

Eyes fixed on his feet, he didn't answer.

"Unless, you weren't." She was staring at him, he could feel it.

He knew his heart should be racing, should be banging in his chest. But no matter how hard he tried to concentrate, he couldn't feel anything.

He didn't know what she was thinking right now. He didn't even think he wanted to know.

"I'm the only one, right." He whispered.

She stared at him for a while without saying anything. Her silence only worried him more.

"Say something." He pleaded.

"What do you want me to say ? That, yes, probably, you are ?"

He didn't answer.

"I'm not your freaking psychologist Frost," she sighed, "Talk to someone who may actually care about that."

She took flight and only gave him one last glance before vanishing in the wood.

North's POV

Months after that fateful Easter, Jack came to the Workshop one day. His eyes kept wandering everywhere, and when North met him it didn't seem like he was really there. But Jack had something on his mind and wouldn't leave without an answer.

"How did you became a spirit ?"

So North started his tale of Russia, bandits, fights and adventures, and while Jack revealed himself to be a great audience, North couldn't help but wonder at the vacant look he sometimes wore.

He wanted to ask him why he wanted to know. Not that it bothered him, but Jack had never asked more whenever they mentioned their past life at meetings. So why now ?

But Jack decided to leave soon after, just stopping for a second before he jumped out of the window to give North a small smile that left him frozen in place.

"His face is the one of Death."

I know some people make him bleed, but as he had drown in a cold lake, for me his body is dead and frozen.