(ROTG) The Embodiment of Winter
Title: The Embodiment of Winter
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Parring: Jack Frost
Timeline: Post Movie
Warnings: Slightly dark, death
Summary: Jack Frost isn't all snowballs and funtimes, he is also ice winds and dark nights.
Disclaimer: William Joyce
Author Says: This was done for a prompt at rotg_kink, I was just looking and was struck with sudden inspiration. I have been hit hard with love for this.
It was cold, dark and still. The fresh, untouched snow on the ground exacerbated this in a way that wasn't present during any other season. Bunnymund felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. He bounded across the ground to the pond that Jack was doubtlessly at. It is too cold for this, he told himself mentally. But he pressed on, driving by an unknown source to find the winter spirit.
Jack was there alright. He was standing next to the pond, back facing Bunnymund, staring at the ground. Bunnymund stopped a bit away, noticing Jack's unusual posture. His back was stiff and he was as still as the forest around him. He held his staff loosely at his side and made no indication that he had even heard Bunnymund's approach.
Bunnymund didn't need to be a rabbit to sense something wasn't right. There was a sharp spark in the air that he'd never felt around Jack before. He slowly approached the spirit with the caution of encountering a wild animal. Jack still didn't move, for surely he knew Bunnymund was there now, instead he kept his gaze fixated on the spot near his feet.
Where once there swam joy and mischief, his eyes mirrored a cold bitterness. It was like looking out at a desolate tundra, stranded and alone and with little hope for survival. At Jack's feet was a small bird, its brown feathers partially covered in snow. It's little chest fluttered, each breath taking a little more of its life.
Jack's free hand twitched as if wanting to scoop the little creature up and warm it, but his eyes hardened when he remembered his touch was of no comfort. And anyway, it was too late. Jack released a single breath through his nose before gently touching the tip of his staff against the creature and putting it out of its suffering, stealing its last breath from the world.
Bunnymund wondered then how many times before had Jack done something like this? How often had he looked down upon something freezing to death only to end it with a swift flick of his staff and a fresh bout of chill sent to their bones? How many creatures? How many people?
Jack looked at him then. At first startled and then his expression froze over into something of cold indifference, hiding the sudden spike of fear that jolted through him. There was no sight of the boy who enjoyed sprinkling fresh snow over Easter Sunday. There was no sight of the spirit who helped the elves cause mischief. No. This was a different side of Jack. A side he'd never let the other Guardians see before.
Yes, he was the Guardian of Fun. But he was also the Herald of Winter and Winter was not always snowballs and good times. It was cold, harsh and unforgiving to those who were not prepared and it had never occurred to Bunnymund that, just maybe, Jack embodied this too. But the way he stood, staring at him now, Bunnymund saw a brief glimpse of that danger. He saw ice cold rivers and avalanches and blizzards.
"You weren't supposed to see that." Jack's voice was a freezing wind.
"Wait." Bunnymund held an outstretched paw. Jack stared, no light in his eyes, snuffed by the dark night. Bunnymund didn't know what could be said -maybe nothing- and Jack knew it. Jack shrugged a shoulder and looked out into the distance.
Then, so quietly Bunnymund almost missed it, "Don't tell anyone else."
It struck him then that this was a secret Jack carefully guarded -this other side. How he was completely -and utterly- an embodiment of winter. Both the fun happy, light days and the trecherous, unforgiving nights.
Bunnymund should have been planning to tell someone, but when Jack looked at him every other thought shut down. It was that innocent, wide-eyed look. Trusting him. He was still Jack Frost, the boy who took joy in the wonders of snow and fun and never forgot it.
"Don't worry mate."
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Parring: Jack Frost
Timeline: Post Movie
Warnings: Slightly dark, death
Summary: Jack Frost isn't all snowballs and funtimes, he is also ice winds and dark nights.
Disclaimer: William Joyce
Author Says: This was done for a prompt at rotg_kink, I was just looking and was struck with sudden inspiration. I have been hit hard with love for this.
It was cold, dark and still. The fresh, untouched snow on the ground exacerbated this in a way that wasn't present during any other season. Bunnymund felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. He bounded across the ground to the pond that Jack was doubtlessly at. It is too cold for this, he told himself mentally. But he pressed on, driving by an unknown source to find the winter spirit.
Jack was there alright. He was standing next to the pond, back facing Bunnymund, staring at the ground. Bunnymund stopped a bit away, noticing Jack's unusual posture. His back was stiff and he was as still as the forest around him. He held his staff loosely at his side and made no indication that he had even heard Bunnymund's approach.
Bunnymund didn't need to be a rabbit to sense something wasn't right. There was a sharp spark in the air that he'd never felt around Jack before. He slowly approached the spirit with the caution of encountering a wild animal. Jack still didn't move, for surely he knew Bunnymund was there now, instead he kept his gaze fixated on the spot near his feet.
Where once there swam joy and mischief, his eyes mirrored a cold bitterness. It was like looking out at a desolate tundra, stranded and alone and with little hope for survival. At Jack's feet was a small bird, its brown feathers partially covered in snow. It's little chest fluttered, each breath taking a little more of its life.
Jack's free hand twitched as if wanting to scoop the little creature up and warm it, but his eyes hardened when he remembered his touch was of no comfort. And anyway, it was too late. Jack released a single breath through his nose before gently touching the tip of his staff against the creature and putting it out of its suffering, stealing its last breath from the world.
Bunnymund wondered then how many times before had Jack done something like this? How often had he looked down upon something freezing to death only to end it with a swift flick of his staff and a fresh bout of chill sent to their bones? How many creatures? How many people?
Jack looked at him then. At first startled and then his expression froze over into something of cold indifference, hiding the sudden spike of fear that jolted through him. There was no sight of the boy who enjoyed sprinkling fresh snow over Easter Sunday. There was no sight of the spirit who helped the elves cause mischief. No. This was a different side of Jack. A side he'd never let the other Guardians see before.
Yes, he was the Guardian of Fun. But he was also the Herald of Winter and Winter was not always snowballs and good times. It was cold, harsh and unforgiving to those who were not prepared and it had never occurred to Bunnymund that, just maybe, Jack embodied this too. But the way he stood, staring at him now, Bunnymund saw a brief glimpse of that danger. He saw ice cold rivers and avalanches and blizzards.
"You weren't supposed to see that." Jack's voice was a freezing wind.
"Wait." Bunnymund held an outstretched paw. Jack stared, no light in his eyes, snuffed by the dark night. Bunnymund didn't know what could be said -maybe nothing- and Jack knew it. Jack shrugged a shoulder and looked out into the distance.
Then, so quietly Bunnymund almost missed it, "Don't tell anyone else."
It struck him then that this was a secret Jack carefully guarded -this other side. How he was completely -and utterly- an embodiment of winter. Both the fun happy, light days and the trecherous, unforgiving nights.
Bunnymund should have been planning to tell someone, but when Jack looked at him every other thought shut down. It was that innocent, wide-eyed look. Trusting him. He was still Jack Frost, the boy who took joy in the wonders of snow and fun and never forgot it.
"Don't worry mate."