I am soooooooo sorry I took so long. *Sobbing*
Can you ever forgive me?
No, okay. I get it, I was extremely slow in writing this between studying for final exams, logging the hours for my band concert we're having, watching my little sister and so many other things you probably could give a fuck less about.
It was also my birthday so I guess that counts. (I am officially a teen! Yay!)
Anyway, this chapter goes more into Jaenirra and Pan'nuck's heritage as well as some more details about Camalia. Some of it pretty irrelevant but other stuff is very important.
Also, just to clear things up. In Camalian terms, twenty mortal years equals one for Camalians.
So Pan'nuck is three hundred and eighty or nineteen and Jaenirra is three hundred and sixty or eighteen, so technically yes, they are legal.
Means I can do more stuff with them.
Jack will be internally eighteen in this fanfic even though I say, "Screw Dreamworks and they're timelines, he's fourteen."
Jaenirra lost her mother when she was twelve.
So on that happy note. THE EIGHTH CHAPTER! YAAAAAAAAAAAY!
One thing you always learned with Pan'nuck: Never, ever, EVER, wake a sleeping man. Period.
You will find a knife up your ass and a pillow down your throat.
Sleep and let sleep was his motto and everybody knew it.
If the world caught on fire in the middle of the night, best to let him carry on sleeping.
But apparently certain people decide to take that rule and bang it up with a sledgehammer.
Pan'nuck was awoken to something in his bed, or more like someone.
Even though his eyes were half closed and his mind was still groggy, he could feel the cold and mischief radiating off the person not six inches from him.
The redhead groaned and covered his face with a pillow.
" Jack, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?" He mumbled through the thick padding.
" What aren't I allowed to?" Came the smirking boy's reply.
"No, you're not so get out."
"Aw, come on Pan. What's it between friends?" Jack was sitting cross legged right next to Pan'nuck's face, his pale hands holding his staff across his lap. The white-haired teen's head was wrapped with gauze as pure as his hair from last night's episode. It seemed both boys had taken a beating.
That Jaenirra, Pan'nuck thought, will be the end of us both.
"First of all, I'm sleeping and second of all, why don't you go bother Bunny? I'm sure he'd appreciate the company." Pan'nuck rolled over to his other side, away from the winter spirit.
"Trust me, the kangaroo is the last person who wants to see me. Jaenirra too."
He muttered the last part but Pan'nuck heard him loud and clear.
The resting boy's green eyes popped open.
He immediately knew something was up, his ears were tingling.
"Jack,"
"Mhm?"
"What did you do?"
There was silence.
Knew it! He's hiding something.
Pan'nuck shot up. He did it so fast that Jack lurched back as well and fell off the bed.
The Camalian glared down at him on the floor.
"What did you-"
He didn't even finish his sentence when he heard someone shout.
"Jack Frost, you son of a bastard! Get back here!"
It was Jaenirra and she sounded royally pissed.
Pan'nuck sighed and looked sideways at the giggling winter spirit.
"Is it an animal?"
They were playing Twenty Questions like they always did when trying to figure out a certain prank. The winter spirit wrapped his hands around his staff and crossed his legs once more, getting into a more comfortable position.
"Nope." Was the barely controlled reply. Jack was trying to keep from laughing his ass off but failing miserably. It was already halfway to South Africa.
"A vegetable?"
"No."
"A mineral?"
"Is paint considered a mineral?"
"You didn't."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Jack had the most innocent look on his face Pan'nuck almost believed him.
Almost.
His mind completely changed when Jaenirra kicked the door open.
"Jack Frost, you will die and you will die today."
She pointed her sword and the most murderous look on her face.
Pan'nuck thought the Guardians might as well pit her against Pitch right now cause there was no way that the guy would win.
She wore about the same thing she had yesterday, other than wearing a trench coat that reached to her knees and a tight, red leather tunic that accented her features so nicely Pan'nuck felt himself staring.
No, bad Pan'nuck, he scolded. We do not fantasize about friends. Not even if her -Nope! Not going there!
It all went together very nicely and gave her a dangerous, untamed and yet beautiful look.
At least without the green paint splattered all over it.
It dripped on the white carpet of his room and her hair-good MiM, her hair-was also green and in the shape of a mohawk, stuck there with what Pan'nuck knew was ice.
Jack's ice.
It was at least two and half feet tall and how she had managed to not knock it off when she had burst through the doorway was beyond Pan'nuck.
"Jaenirra, I can explain," Jack popped his head over the top of the bed and held up his hands in a negotiating gesture but there was a laughing in his voice. "I had no idea that was paint."
"Nice try, Jack. The can says 'green paint' on it. I'm not an idiot, I can read."
"Gold star for you."
Jaenirra shouted with rage and shot forward, sword held at an uppercut angle.
Pan'nuck leaped out of the way, knowing fully well if he hadn't, he would have been sliced to bits. Jack was a good friend, a maniacal prankster but Pan'nuck wished him the best.
When Jaenirra was mad, you might as well go and tie yourself to a train track before trying to calm her down.
Jack yelped and quicker than the green-eyed boy could blink, the frost sprite had completed an aerial flip over the raging girl's shoulders and was out the door, laughing all the way.
It all happened so quickly that Jaenirra didn't even have time to stop. Her knees hit the edge of the bed and she stumbled, landing in the most painful angle on Pan'nuck's bed; on her face.
Still in momentum, her body was carried after her and for a moment, her back bent in the way that only experienced gymnast could achieve. She came to a stop, abdomen halfway off the side of the bed with a 'Da fuck just happened.' look on her face.
It was a miracle she hadn't impaled either of them with her sword.
Pan'nuck craned his face over hers with a cocked eyebrow.
"How did this happen, exactly?"
"I was painting eggs with Bunny and next thing I know-BOOM! I'm covered in this stuff and my hair looks like this." She said gesturing to her fanciful mohawk.
"It looks nice. You should keep it." He said with a smirk.
"Oh, ha-ha." She rolled her amber eyes. She pushed herself off the edge of his bed and winced as she rolled her shoulder. "I'll kill him."
"Try not to have to much fun."
"No promises, just flames." She winked once and ran back out into the hallway after Jack, a smile on her lips.
The guy sighed inwardly. Well, there goes that one.
Hope you have an extinguisher, North.
And then he thought, Oh my Mother Goose-fucking MiM, did she just smile?
He couldn't help a grin come across his face.
It had been decades since he had seen a smile, a real smile on her solemn face.
"Congrats, Jack Frost. You just accomplished something in five minutes that I couldn't in eighty years. My hat's off to you."
He stretched out his back like a cat and rose from his mattress.
He winced.
His ankle still hurt like a bitch.
After a couple more steps he could at least walk without limping. The cuts and bruises were almost gone, partially due to his kind healing a lot quicker than most and the other part due to Tooth's fairies practically magic hands.
Pan'nuck opened a small wooden wardrobe across from his small Roman-like bed. Everything in the room was like a soldiers' barrack. Next to his bed was a small wooden table with a ceramic dish and a towel with a bar of soap. Under a large enough window was a low bookcase with several books on war, pranks and- don't tell Jaenirra- girl magazines that were filled with pictures definitely above a PG rating.
Other than that and the wardrobe, there was nothing else in the room. Pan'nuck just wasn't that kind of guy to have twenty of the newest and coolest things. He was pretty happy with only getting the minimum.
There was a time when that was all he got. His mother was a Camalian peasant and his father...well...his father was not even Summer Fey.
Alevia walked hurriedly to the nursery, a smile on her face, her ivory colored, calf height Victorian boots clicking on the tile. A cream colored dress with little golden accents billowed behind her. Her bronze hair caught the light and it seemed to set a fire down her loose curls and show off her golden circlet of power as if to say, 'Here is a beautiful and strong queen. Respect her.'
It was morning and today, after along debate with the those withered old hags, she would be allowed to go to Helicon, the town below the Palace.
She passed servants and maids that bowed low and called, "Good morning, Queen Alevia."
But she payed no attention to them. They were a part of the background and besides, this was one of the few days she could enjoy freely and she was going to use it to spend time with her daughter. Arriving at a set of white doors, she carefully opened it. A large, rudy woman stood in the corner of the bright room near the window, rocking a bundle of golden blankets back and forth.
"How is she?" The Queen whispered.
"She's goin' ta sleep now. 'Ad to force three bo'les down 'er throat before she went be'y bye." Saro replied. She said it an almost complaining tone but the hint of a smile danced across her chocolate eyes. Saro had an accent to rival North's and just as much brute strength but under all of her tough nanny armor, she loved and adored any child she came across.
"Good, good. Can you go and get a couple more for the trip? I'll hold her." Alevia walked into all the way to the room and held out her arms for the baby girl. Saro gently placed her into the crook of her mother's arms before busying off to pack for Alevia's trip to the town.
Alevia rocked the babe back and forth, staring at her newly born daughter with a loving adoration.
After awhile Jaenirra opened her wonderfully sparkling amber eyes. They glowed with a blank wonderment at her mother.
"Hello, Jaenirra." She cooed. "Are you ready to go to Maralian's house? I hear she has a son just about a year older than you but I haven't seen him yet. Those Muses' are very stubborn people, you know? Especially that Calliope."
She continued to whisper little things to Jaenirra, staring into each others eyes with an intimacy that only a mother and child could know.
Yes, they were separate beings but in mind and soul, they were very much connected.
All the pain she had gone through in pregnancy; the violent mood swings, the spontaneous food cravings at two o'clock in the morning, swollen ankles, the vile herbs taken every night to insure a healthy baby, even the vomiting, had all been worth it to birth such a beautiful child.
She had her mother's hair, face and nose but her chin and eyes were completely her father's.
Oh, Jaenirra's father. What had happened?
One moment they had been in love, stealing kisses between meetings and meals, writing love letters when gone on long journeys and having the occasional sun-frilled picnic that always ended with a dance by light of the stars.
She remembered her skin against her own as they breathed with the same rhythm. She remembered his caress and the way she said his name.
Koz. It was a nickname and one he much rather preferred.
She was hopelessly blinded by love, so much so, that she hadn't seen the heartbreak coming until it was stabbing her heart with a blade crafted from lies and betrayal.
Before, his golden eyes had been her lantern in the tunnels of an unknown path but now she had Jaenirra, and her daughter's eyes were brighter that a thousand suns.
They illuminated everything and it was all clear.
Alevia knew who she was, where she was going and what she had to do.
And that was to be a mother and raise her daughter happily and prosperously.
She was almost glad he had left her, it left more room for the Queen to raise her daughter how she wanted with no one else to tell her otherwise.
"Ma'am?" Saro appeared with a small satchel. "I go' yer bo'les and I was a wonderins if ya migh' nee' a coach ta take ya ta Helicon."
"What?" Alevia was so entrapped by Jaenirra's soft orange wisp of hair she had not noticed the maid return. "Oh, no thank you, Saro. I'm already having Kasturk take me."
She was talking about the old coachman that had been driving the royal carriage since before her own mother was born. The man was like a grandfather to her.
Saro helped her to get dressed in her outing cloak and bundle the new princess with a charmed blanket that was believed to keep away bad spirits in the first couple of months of life, after that it was more like a security blanket that toddlers dragged around while picking their noses.
Alevia then ventured to the front courtyard of the splendorous castle were a gilded carriage door that was being gallantly held open by a kindly, balding man.
"Thank you, Kasturk." She said, settling onto the cushion seat.
He smiled and nodded before closing the door and hopping to the driver's seat.
"Don't ya be makin' any unnecessary trips inta da fores' or o'er da mou'ain, ya hear Mr. Saraphim ."
"Don't worry, Miss Lionel. We'll just be takin' the main road."
Picking up a whip, he snapped it twice and the white horses began to move across the cobblestone driveway.
As the buggy passed the steps of the Palace, Alevia peeked her head into the frame of the window and held up Jaenirra.
"Say bye, darling." She whispered and shook her daughter's pudgy hand up and down. "Say bye to Saro."
As the carriage pulled further away from the maid, Alevia settled into her seat and rocked Jaenirra.
The Palace wasn't considerably far from town, about five miles or so through fields of golden apple trees, over a small creek and a small sprint to the guards gate where they would be let through. After that, it was a short time through the town and to a small cottage where Maralian Peterson lived with her new son.
Maralian had had the boy about one Camalian year ago and Alevia had never laid eyes of the child.
In fact, she hadn't seen Maralian in quite awhile. She had not been invited to the wedding ceremony and the only way she heard of her friend's pregnancy was through the gossip of the maids. Other than that, it had been almost forty mortal years since the Queen had seen her partner-in-crime and she didn't think she could wait any longer. She had so much she wanted to catch up with, their lives, their children, their homes.
Hell, Alevia didn't even know where Maralian worked. Last she had checked, it was an apothecary.
A wheel on the carriage suddenly popped up and over a large rock in the middle of the road and Jaenirra let out a cry with the sudden movement.
"Shh, shh," Alevia murmured and bounced the girl in her arms. "Just a little bump, shhh."
With her mother's quiet hushing, Jaenirra soon settled down and became accustom to the rocking of the carriage as it moved to the dirt road that wound towards the outside world.
It had been very long since the monarch had traveled outside.
Sure, she walked among the groves of white-barked trees and spent a little while with Sanderson in one of the occasions that they got together to discuss ideas for new and different dreams but most of the Guardians were busy with their work, as was she.
The day was warm with a crisp, cool fall breeze that snapped through the air. Much of the wildlife of Camalia could be seen if such a day.
Yellow canaries twittered around, hares and squirrels of all colors raced each other up trees or down holes. Leaves waved and rustled her way, whispering long awaited greetings, little flowers raised their oriented heads and bowed along with the wind at the passing carriage. The sun was like a golden coin in the sea, reflective against the blue of the sky streaked with thin wisps of clouds that lay strung like harp strings waiting to be stroked by the heavens. It was all very beautiful.
Alevia enjoyed the view of the passing world as Kasturk's voice floated to through the wind and wrapped it's way around her like a blanket of warmth.
He was singing an old war song called "I'll Go Marching Off to War."
"Oh, I had meself a girl and a fine one was she too.
But she left me for another and I sailed to Ranganoo.
But I goes that's just life so I'll go marching off to war
And heartbreak shall not find me anymore."
His singing was deep and rich, like a creamy, dark chocolate and to say that he was not a good singer was a flat out lie.
He was a Camalian and Camalians were greatly known for their scholars, poets, dancers, actors and most of all, their voices.
Alevia joined him in time for the chorus.
"I'll go marching off to war.
I'll go marching off to war.
I'll beat back those savages and go marching off to war.
Over hills and dales and mountains, my sorrow will not reach me.
I'm off to the battling ground to die among the silver trees.
And though her lips were like flowers
On the autumn breeze
There's nothing like the war that is calling out to me."
They were nearing the large guards' gate and Alevia could see the cool morning stone that were beginning to bake in the morning sun.
There were two towers on either side of the iron wrought fence that separated the Palace road from the one to Helicon.
Several of the golden-armored men marching along the top noticed the unmistakable bald head of Kasturk and shouted out greetings and laughter.
"How ya doin', Kas?" One called from the high bridge atop the gate. He was a young, rugged, handsome figure with a happy glimmer in his eyes.
"Jus' goin' ta town, Mangus. Got ta drop off little Miss Alevia 'ere." Kasturk replied, smiling up at the man and blinking against the sun.
"Ya got the Queen down there?" Mangus looked wide-eyed with shock.
"Sure do."
Alevia took that as a chance to lean out the window and wave.
"Hello, Mangus. Do you mind opening the gate for the Princess and I?" She said sweetly, also shielding her eyes from the blaze of the sun.
Mangus blinked twice before processing her words as an order and yelling to the gate manager to lift the gate.
With a bang and a clatter it began to rise. Kasturk nodded and Alevia waved good-bye as they trotted past.
The carriage continued on, winding down the town's road, up and down hills were large farmers' sheep grazed.
Unlike many of the Guardians cultures whose were broken and tattered, the last and only of their kind, Camalia was a thriving kingdom, full of knowledge and people who lived normal lives much like mortals did on the world below.
There was a shout and the startled monarch looked to see children running alongside the carriage, laughing and calling to their friends to come and see Queen Alevia's carriage along with the Princess.
Houses began to pass by and Alevia saw town's people coming out to watch the passing horses and carriage.
Kasturk had to slow the white horses as they traveled on the busy main street.
People hustled and bustle about. A woman dragged her protesting son to get in line for the cold cuts butchery. Men walked in and out of the betrothal, and gaggles of young girls window shopped, goggling over young men.
A group of teen boys played a game of Catch-Flame in an alley way where the rules were much like Hot-Potato but with a real burning wooden ball and the object was to get as many hits as you could on the ball in the most peculiar way; the crazier the movement the better.
The town was full of life, moving and warping together, chaotic and yet orderly in some fashion. Alevia enjoyed the sounds of vendors shouting, women beating out the carpets on five-story, wooden, group homes, chicken squabbling and children screaming.
The air smelled of cooking bread, the sweat of people mingling together in great masses and the freshly baled hay.
While most lords and ladies of the Court would be most horrified and disgusted to find themselves in such a place, Alevia found herself enjoying it and her mahogany eyes ate up everything.
But she almost lost hope in that moment of ever finding Maralian.
What if her friend had changed her look by cutting her hair or growing it out? What if she wasn't at her old home? What if she had moved to a new house with her unknown husband?
So many thoughts ran through her head that she almost missed seeing the little girl on the sidewalk.
As the carriage proceeded down the crowded street, squeezing through carts pulled by donkeys and maids carrying water to their masters' and mistresses' homes, the carriage almost came to a complete stop.
It was a good thing to.
Alevia was wrapping Jaenirra more tightly into her loosening blanket-the baby had fallen asleep and was unknowingly kicking the clothe off of her hot feet-the monarch noticed a girl with big hazel eyes and a beaten dress staring at her.
Just staring, her gaze unbent as it met Alevia's.
The woman immediately felt a chill go down her back.
No one ever looked at her that way, not a commoner or a servant at least.
Saro, Kasturk and a few others were exceptions but everybody who was not in her close circle either gazed nervously at the floor or into the distance as they addressed her but never, ever directly into her eyes.
But there was also a knowing in the girl's eyes, as if she knew anything and everything about Alevia; the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Everything.
It was slightly nerve-wracking but then the girl smiled and darted forward. She weaved under passing peoples arms and skirted around carts, her burgundy braid swaying as she avoided the maelstrom of people walking.
The girl stopped right in front of Alevia's window, smiling and for a moment, Alevia was fearful and she clung Jaenirra to her breast as she stared into the young girl's eyes, mahogany upon hazel.
But then that moment passed when she held up a small bouquet of lavender periwinkles.
"For you, ma'am." She muttered shyly, blushing slightly behind her freckles.
Alevia was sat stock still before realizing what the girl was doing and took the flowers. No one had given her periwinkles since...since Koz.
"Thank you..."
"Margenir." The girl finished for her.
"Oh...uhm...all right then." She didn't know what to say and the carriage wasn't moving so they were left with an awkward silence.
"Your baby is beautiful." Margenir burst. "May I see her?"
"I guess so." Alevia held up Jaenirra cautiously so that she could see.
"She's adorable." The girl squealed and tickled the baby lightly who in turn looked at Margenir while giggling.
Seeing that the girl meant no harm, Alevia laughed, "Yes, she is. Her name is-"
But she was cut of by the burgundy-haired girl.
"Jaenirra. Yes, I know her name." She did not meet astonished look on the mother's face.
"But her name hasn't even been released yet."
In Camalia, the new heirs' name was not told to the public until two months after they had been born. This was so that when the baby was born no ill-will could be spoken toward their name.
It was ancient custom left over from the civil war that had once ravaged across Camalia between the natives and the immigrating witches.
Witches, when given a name, could inflict any sort of harmful spell towards a person but Camalians, with there thick fire-proof skin, magic could not get in. Babies were different, their skin didn't fully thicken until about a month and a half after they were born, then their names were told among others at a large gathering that followed with festivities.
Jaenirra was a month of age.
Seeing the Queen's suspicious glare, Margenir quickly said, "I'm a gypsy child ma'am. My eyes can see farther than others."
"Oh!" Now everything made sense. Gypsies were Divinators and some had the ability to see into the future or things others couldn't.
"I can take you to your friends house if you like. She lives just over the hill to the east." She said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.
Alevia hesitated.
What if it was a trap? Or a way to steal her money?
But no, the girl was just a child and she could see that the gypsy meant her no harm.
Besides, Alevia could fight, she wasn't helpless.
"Kasturk!" The woman shouted over the other voices.
"Yes, my Queen?" The man looked startled from the argument he was having with a cabbage man.
"This girl is going to take me to see Maralian." She gestured towards Margenir who straightened immediately now that the attention was focused on her.
"Hello, Kasturk." She waved timidly.
The man's eyes softened. "Oh, Margenir, my dear! How are you? The boys and your father holding up well?"
"Doing well but they're a handful." The girl laughed.
"Wait, you know each other?" Alevia pointed to each of them in turn, shock written upon her face.
"Yes, she is my cousin's daughter."
"Twice removed." Margenir added.
"You're in good hands." Kasturk confirmed. "I'll wait here while you two go."
Margenir nodded and beckoned with her hand for Alevia to come along.
The woman opened the door with one hand and the other holding Jaenirra in the crook of her arm. Her eyes darted across the ground and she saw there was now place to step without risk of getting her beautiful cream dress dirty.
"Don't worry ma'am," Margenir said, taking her hand to help Alevia down the two steps. "It's not all bad."
"Thank you," Alevia muttered.
Margenir beamed and gestured for Alevia to follow her through the crowds as they wound their way to Maralian's house, where the woman waited, unknowingly, with her half-breed son.
So for those of you that haven't figured it out yet, this will be a two-parted memory.
No, this is not Pan'nuck's memory; it is a memory from the past because I just do stuff like that.
Also, in my head (which is very dark and twisted) MiM is basically the Guardians equivalent of God. Not that they worship him or anything just when they curse and stuff they say "Great MiM." or "MiM dammit."
I'd also like to hear who you think Jaenirra's father might be. It'd be very stimulating.
Now on to my regular crack of what I have been doing lately.
One is definitely not reading Witch and Wizard manga volumes and crying from all the feels of Byron and Whisty shippings. (Right in the feels, James Patterson!)
The other is not shipping Robin and Raven in Teen Titans.
That is all.
I'd send you a hug but here is a bunny.
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Review please!