Of the Northmost Winds and Skies - Chapter 1 - xxiiyu (2024)

Chapter Text

Jack built a castle once.

Not a real castle, of course; even with his powers, he thought that might be impossible. No, he’d built a small model of a castle, complete with towers and a fortification surrounding it, made from small pieces of wood and rusty nails he’d found by chance on the ground.

With the image of the castle followed several more indistinct images, sounds and sensations. He could see his sister smiling at him from the other side of the miniature castle, awe in her big brown eyes. She’d helped building, but for the most part just enjoyed watching Jack’s handiwork – despite how inadequate he was at said handiwork. He could hear her voice, telling him stories about who lived in this castle and what happened in the kingdom it protected; her laugh, giggling whenever Jack accidentally hammered his thumbs; her yawns, because it was very early and most of the village was still fast asleep.

As for sensations, the most vivid thing he could feel was the wind against his face, caressing him softly from where they sat upon a hill in Hawthorne. From there, they could watch as life gradually sprang to life in their village, the sun rising above the trees and birds flying in and out of their nests. Jack held his aching fingers up in the air and imagined that the wind passing by healed the painful thumping. Definitely no handyman, that was for sure.

“Why do you do that?” Emily asked, raising her hands to copy Jack.

Jack, who knew Emily was just trying to make him admit that he’d hurt himself in the process of making the castle, just smiled, closing his eyes. “I like the wind,” he said. “We’re good friends, the wind and I.”

“What are you talking about?” Emily snorted. “That wasn’t what you said last week, when the wind almost pulled the roof off our house.”

“It can’talwaysbe this gentle,” Jack said matter-of-factly. “It has emotions just like we do.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t really a lie; the wind having a mind of its own was an idea that had come to him a long time ago. He didn’t know why, but the thought was always there and always had been; as far as he knew, it was as real as any gods he’d ever heard about, so why not?

He opened his eyes when she didn’t answer, and stretched his arms out even more, as if waiting for an embrace. “Besides, it’s kinda nice when it’s not as gentle as well. Maybe one day it’ll whisk me away and teach me how to fly. Like a leaf.”

Emily frowned skeptically but copied his pose even so. “Isn’t that dangerous?” she asked.

“What’s life without a little danger?”

“That does sound like something you would say.”

“I am starting to recognize that look,” North said.

Jack blinked, lifting his gaze from the ice castle on North’s desk. North was looking back at him with a fond expression. He had a miniature hammer in one hand and a chisel in the other. His castle was a whole lot more impressive than what Jack had made back then. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, just watching, not speaking; watching North chip away on his various ice projects was something Jack had discovered was surprisingly captivating.

It took a few seconds before Jack realized he should probably answer, but by then, North had already turned in his seat and was giving Jack an inquisitive look.

“You remembered something?” he asked.

Jack felt a smile pull at his lips. “Not sure if I like how good you’re getting at reading me, North,” he told him, twirling his staff in his hand. He hopped down from his perch on the desk he had claimed as his personal ice-watching spot. “But yeah. I remembered something.”

Since becoming a Guardian, Jack kept finding himself in the workshop. By now, he knew most of the melodies of North’s orchestral music by heart, and North’s enthusiastic singingalmostwasn’t annoying anymore. Never mind the fact that Jack sometimes caught himself humming to the same melodies, much to North’s amusement. It had become a regular occurrence, these quiet sessions. North was a skilled sculptor. He was Santa Claus after all; creating things was what hedid…and seeing him at work with it was magical – both in the literal and figurative way.

“I think you overestimate your poker face,” North told him. He followed him with his eyes, in an almost wary manner. No, definitely in a wary manner. “What did you remember?”

Jack let the questions hang in the air as he started walking around North’s desk, admiring the way the block of some indistinct figure had turned into what was definitely a castle now – some parts of it, at least. There were still a few more days of work to go. He stopped, leaning closer to it as if to inspect something, just to see the way North’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“I’m not gonna do anything,” Jack told him.

“That is what you say every time, and yet I keep finding swirly ice patterns or small snowflakes on all my sculptures.”

“Some embellishment never hurt anyone,” he mumbled, feigning innocence. He glanced at North, and couldn’t help but smile at his unconvinced expression.

In the beginning, North had been surprised. Jack could sit there watching him for hours, barely saying a word, barely even moving – to the point where North evidently forgot that he was even there, judging by the few times he’d turned around and started at the sight of him. On one hand, Jack could understand his surprise; to most people, Jack didn’t come off as an enjoyer of calm and quiet, to say the least. He was always darting around, seeking action, seekingfun,causing trouble just for the sake of causing trouble. No, he didn’t seem like the type to be able to sit still for long periods of time.

Personally, Jack thought it was obvious. After spending 300 years alone, invisible to nearly everyone, obviously he would grow accustomed to just observing. Not that he felt the need to explain that. And besides, with theseembellishmentshe’d mentioned, it would’ve been a lie to say he was able to sitcompletelystill. But really, what did North expect would happen, letting the embodiment of winter sit around next to a giant ice sculpture?

North’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “You did not answer my question,” he reminded him. “Is a private memory, maybe?”

Jack considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “This just got me thinking of another castle,” he told him, letting the memory play in his mind again. “Made of wood, not ice, and definitely not as fancy as this one.”Emily should’ve seen this,he thought.

North was watching him, he could tell. Jack didn’t mind, though it did make it a bit difficult to do exactly what North told him not to. But as with all things cold and icy, Jack found a way; those swirling, fern-like patterns North had been talking about was starting to appear on the back of the castle, out of sight of either of them, but Jack knew they were there

North didn’t notice it before Jack let out a content huff he thoughthad been small enough to be unnoticeable. He glanced at the castle, and then looked back at Jack. “What did you do?” he asked, with a sort of fond resignation Jack had been hearing more and more since he became a Guardian.

“Nothing,” Jack lied, answering North’s look with another impish smile. “Just made sure the ice doesn’t melt. You know the temperature is still a bit too high in here?”

“Uh-huh,” North said, still not convinced. “Like those other times you‘just’re-froze ice?”

“Yeah, like those times.”

North just chuckled. “I take it your patience has finally run out, then,” he said, and looked up to the old grandfather clock by the wall. “After…nearly four hours. Maybe is time to take break.” He got to his feet and stretched his back. Jack grimaced at the sound of his spine popping.

“Sounds like a good idea,” he commented. “Have you considered yoga?”

“Yoga!” North repeated with a bark of laughter. “I might be old, but my body is strong as ever.Yoga…” He chuckled to himself as he leaned over to blow some icy dust off the castle but stopped mid-motion. He turned back to Jack. “Speaking of…How about you, Jack?”

Jack raised a brow. “I’ve tried. It’s not for me.”

“Not yoga,” he said, sitting down in his chair again while still looking intently at Jack. “I am talking about your powers. It is nine months since we defeated Pitch. Nine months since you became a Guardian.” North leaned forward, and Jack almost took a step back. He never knew what to expect when North got that look in his eyes: serious and intense, as if he was searching for something. “Nine months since Jamie Bennett and the other children in Burgess started believing in you. Your story must have been passed around a lot since then.”

“Oh,” was all Jack could think to say at first. He shifted his hold on his staff, looking into the air. “Uh…am Isupposedto feel any different?”

North shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not,” he said, then narrowed his eyes. “Do you?”

Jack narrowed his eyes too, brows furrowing. “No?”

“No?”

“No.”

North hummed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

It was Jack’s turn to stare. When North didn’t continue, he gestured exasperatedly with the hand that wasn’t holding his staff. “What are you trying to say?”

North pursed his lips and shrugged. “Maybe nothing,” he replied unhelpfully. “Just remember that we are always here to help if you need it.”

It wasn’t the first time North had said that, or something similar to it. Jack had almost been starting to brush it off, because by now he already knew that the other Guardians had his back. He just couldn’t connect the dots as forwhy North kept reminding him when nothing in particular was happening. At this point, it was getting more ominous than anything.

“I know,” Jack said, raising a questioning brow.

“Good,” North said with a smile, then patted his belly. “The yetis are cooking today. I think Phil mentioned rassolnik. You want some?”

Jack had tasted that soup one time, and that was one time too many. “Uh, no thanks, I…have some errands to run.”

North had that knowing look again. “In Burgess?”

Jack raised his brows in mock surprise. “What? Why would I go to Burgess?” he asked. He opened the window with a flick of his wrist, jumping onto the windowsill. “Duty calls, right? Responsibility, all that, you know the drill. Hey, wind!” He playfully saluted as he felt the wind rushing towards him. “Bye, North!”

North let out another bark of a laugh as Jack jumped backwards out the window. The wind lifted him through the air and whisked him into the clouds, just like he had imagined when he’d been sitting on top of that hill with his sister.

With nothing to do, Jamie was close to dozing off when he thought he heard the slightest creak from the window. Thinking he’d imagined it, he kept his eyes closed, presuming the sudden wave of cold was his fever acting up again. Ugh – and he’d been starting to feel better as well.

Psst…Jamie, are you sleeping, because—”

Suddenly, Jamie wasn’t sleepy anymore. He jumped up into a sitting position. The words had been spoken so softly, he almost didn’t recognize his voice, but Jamie’s face broke into a grin when he saw the blue-clad figure of Jack crouched on the windowsill.

“Jack!” he exclaimed, but his throat didn’t agree with the sudden volume, and he was coughing into his arm the next second. He sniffled and looked back to see that Jack had moved into the room and was closing the window behind himself, a worried frown on his face.

“What’s up?” Jack asked. “Met your friends outside. They said you were sick.” He came a bit closer, tilting his head to the side. “They certainly weren’t lying.”

It wasn’t hard to spot the slight guilt passing over Jack’s face, no matter how fast it was gone. Jamie just giggled and waved dismissively.

“It’s my own fault,” he said, scooting back to give Jack space on the bed. “I forgot I’d left the front door open, then Abby spotted a cat and started chasing it, so I started chasingher,and I didn’t have the time to put my shoes on, and then…well.” He sent Jack a sheepish smile. “But it’s whatever! I feel fine.”

Jack laughed. “You got Abby back, though,” he said as he sat down, glancing over at the sleeping greyhound at the edge of the bed. “So I’d say mission accomplished.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?” Jamie said with a deep sigh, falling dramatically back onto his pillow. “Mom’s been making me stay inside fordays!I don’t even have a fever anymore!” He rolled his eyes, then pushed himself up in a sitting position again, looking at Jack. “But she did say I could go out tomorrow, if I feel well enough. Which I do. She just worries too much.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a very boring few days,” Jack said sympathetically, and Jamie nodded. Then there was a certain glint in Jack’s eyes, one which Jamie didn’t have any trouble interpreting. It was usually followed by something fun. “I guess I came a day too early, then. But maybe I should take a trip tomorrow as well. Make up for all the fun you’ve missed out on.”

“Yes!” Jamie clapped his hands together, but then immediately had to use them to cover his mouth. Jack patted his back as he coughed, and the coughs turned into giggles. He sighed and sat back against the wall, grinning at him. “Ithasbeen boring. I’ve been sick for over a week already, and every time I tried telling mom I wasn’t, she tried making me do myhomework,which is even worse than just sitting here! But now that you’re here…” He trailed off, realizing something. “What haveyoubeen up to, actually? I haven’t seen you inages,but it has been snowing, so you must’ve been around, right? Or don’t you actually have to be around to make it snow?”

He belatedly realized Jack had been opening and closing his mouth to reply, but Jamie hadn’t given him an opening to actually answer any questions. Feeling his cheeks heat up , he shut his mouth and sent Jack an expectant look.

“I’ve been around,” Jack said. “Here, and everywhere else. January is a busy time for me, and now that I’m a Guardian, I suddenly have a bunch of other things to do too.”

“Is it fun?” Jamie asked, leaning forward to look intently at him. “Is it scary? Dangerous? You haven’t been here since, like,beforeChristmas!”

Jack waved his hand, similar to the way Jamie had earlier. “Nah,it’s not scary or dangerous,” he said with a playfully haughty smile. “Not for me anyway. But yeah, it’s fun.” He looked down for a moment before he looked back at Jamie again. “Sorry for not visiting earlier,” he said, voice softening.

Jamie shook his head, smiling back at him. “I know you’re busy. It’s just that—”

There was a knock on the door, making him shut up. He and Jack shared a look. Jack shrugged, nodding at the door.

“Come in!” Jamie called.

The door opened, revealing Jamie’s mother, Joyce. Joyce wore a slightly puzzled smile as she walked into the room, holding a steaming cup of what Jamie knew was some kind of herbal tea that wassupposedlygood for him, regardless of what the taste suggested.

“How are you feeling, honey?” she asked as she walked around the bed, putting the teacup on the nightstand. “Were you talking to someone?”

“Uh…I’m not hallucinating, mom,” Jamie said, and Jack halfheartedly tried to stifle a laugh. Jamie sent him a quick look, before turning back to his mother again.

“I’d be worried if you were,” Joyce said. “Who were you talking to then?”

Jack moved away when she came to sit where he was currently sitting, and Jamie tried not to grimace too much. Jack didn’t even seem to mind, as if it was a normal occurrence. It probably was, too. Jamie felt something in his chest sink, but when Joyce glanced in Jack’s direction, raising her brow, Jamie quickly turned his attention back to her.

Jamie hesitated. “Jack Frost,” he replied.

Joyce nodded in a way that made it clear she didn’t believe him a second. Jamie knew, because she’d clearly told him Jack Frost was just an expression, despiteobviousevidence, but that didn’t matter. He’d make her believe someday.

“Jack Frost, huh?” Joyce said absentmindedly as she reached forward to feel Jamie’s forehead. “You talk about him a lot lately. What happened to Big Foot?”

“I got his autograph. His name is Phil.”

“Really?” Joyce laughed, letting her hand fall. “That must’ve been exciting. What did he look like?”

“Big and hairy,” Jamie said. “And he can talk! But not in English. I’m…not sure which language they speak.”

“They?” Joyce repeated.

Jamie shrugged. “There’s many of them. Did you know they work for Santa Claus?” He paused and glanced at Jack. “Should I be saying all of this?”

He quickly realized his mistake when his mother once again frowned, glancing in Jack’s direction – but of course she saw nothing.

“I—I mean—” Jamie started, his voice rising in pitch.

“Well, it’s true,” Jack just said with a shrug. He just looked amused by it all, from where he had perched on Jamie’s desk. “I don’t see a reason why not.”

Joyce looked puzzled again, but smiled nevertheless. “Of course you should,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “As long as you’re having fun, right?”

Jamie was pretty sure she had no idea what she was talking about, but Jack nodded approvingly.

“Right…” Jamie said. He shifted restlessly, trying not to look at Jack too many times, but it felt awkward pretending he wasn’t there. “Uh…well, I’m gonna drink my tea and…read.”

Joyce took the hint, getting to her feet with a fond laugh. “Alright,” she said, and ruffled Jamie’s hair. “Make sure to get enough rest, and then you can go out and play tomorrow, alright?”

Jamie just sent her a bright smile and nodded, and followed her with his eyes as she walked out of the room. The second she closed the door, he turned back to Jack.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll see you one day.”

A strange look passed over Jack’s face, but it was gone before Jamie could catch what it was. Instead, he smiled lopsidedly, and came to sit on the bed again. “Maybe,” he said. “Or she’ll just think you’re seeing things. Or maybe that her house is haunted.”

Jamie snorted, but the action made him cough, and Jack patted his back again.

“This sucks,” Jamie groaned once the coughs subsided, leaning heavily against the wall. He reached over for the tea Joyce had given him, sniffed it, then wrinkled his nose. “Mom’s been making me drink a bunch of this…Ithinkit’s tea? It’s gross.”

Jack hummed, a thoughtful look on his face. “I’m sure she knows what she’s doing,” he said, his smile slightly softer than before. “But, hey. Maybe I should come visit you tomorrow instead, when you’re fully rested and—”

“No!” Jamie interrupted, grabbing Jack’s sleeve as fast as possible without spilling the tea. “Don’t go,please,” he begged. “I feel fine! It’s so boring to just sit here, Jack. Comeooon…” He dragged the word out in the most dramatic way he could muster.

“Jamie…” Jack started, and if he was trying to sound reprimanding, he wasn’t doing too well. Not with that amused grin on his face or the laughter in his voice. “You really think it’s a good idea to have a walking icepack inside your room right now?”

Jamie laughed at that. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, but still didn’t let go of Jack. He looked pleadingly up at him. “But whatever! I’ll even get back under the covers if you want to, just please don’t leaveyet. I’m so bored!Pleeaase, please, please—”

He already knew he’d won when Jack’s shoulders sank.

“Alright, since you insist. I guess I can stay for a short while,” he said. “Probably won’t hurt.”

Jamie let go of Jack’s sleeve to punch the air, before doing what he’d promised by huddling back under the covers – but stopped mid-motion when he realized something: maybe Jack wasn’t worried about Jamie – maybe he was worried about himself? The realization must have shown on his face, because Jack raised a brow.

“What?”

“What happens ifyouget a cold?” Jamie asked. “I don’t want you to catch my cold. Is that why you wanted to leave? Because youcanif—”

He stopped talking when Jack snorted.

“IfIget a cold? Don’t you remember who I am? I don’t get colds.”

“Really?” Jamie asked. He rubbed his chin. “I guess that makes sense. You’veneverbeen sick?”

It was Jack’s turn to look thoughtful. “Well…” he started, sounding slightly hesitant. “No…As a winter spirit, I don’t get sick.” He grinned in the same haughty way as earlier, straightening his back. “I’m too strong to be sick, you see. I’m immune to the cold, and few things are stronger than winter.”

Jamie laughed, as loud as his sore throat allowed him. “Really?” he asked, raising his chin at Jack. “What about summer? I mean, why isn’t it winter all the time? Even if you’re immune to the cold, what happens when it gets warm? Do you melt?”

“That’s—” Jack laughed. “I’m not a snowman, Jamie,” he said. “Trust me. I haven’t been sick for 300 years.Especiallynot because of a cold.”

300 years…Jamie had never actually asked how old Jack was. Thinking about it, he didn’t really know much about Jack at all. He hadn’t even known he existed until a few months ago. It reminded him of something he’d only started to wonder about a few weeks after Easter, as he thought back on that moment in his bedroom, the moment he saw Jack for the first time…something about Jack’s expression that Jamie, at the time, had been too shocked to notice. Jack had been happy, for sure, but there’d been something else there too. Jamie just didn’t know how to bring it up, if he should bring it up at all.

Jamie peered up at Jack. “What happens if you drink this, then?” he asked, holding out his teacup to him.

Jack raised his brows. “You experimenting on me now?” he asked.

“I’m just curious,” Jamie defended, an impish smile creeping onto his face. “Or are youscared?” From Jamie’s experience, that question worked on just about everyone.

And Jack seemed to be no exception.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh?” Jack laughed, mirroring Jamie’s smile.

A small staring competition ensued, before Jack held his hand out, and Jamie handed the cup to him. Jack brought the cup to his face, and Jamie made a small, surprised sound when a thin layer of fern-patterned frost spread across his cheeks. The condensation, he realized, was freezing. Jack didn’t seem to notice, and just took a sip of the tea. Jamie watched his reaction closely, bringing his hands together in slight apprehension; there was a voice in the back of his head that still insisted the heat would actually cause Jack to melt.

Jack’s brows twitched. He’d taken pretty big sip too – probably just to show off, Jamie decided. Jamie would’ve thought it hadn’t made a difference at all, hadn’t it been for the slight tightness to Jack’s expression, as if he’d just eaten something sour. Jamie laughed.

“Are yousureyou’re okay?” he asked teasingly, taking the cup back.

“You think this is funny?” Jack asked back, his grin working its way back onto his face.

Jamie was about to answer, but the cup caught his attention. He held it up to his face, then showed it to Jack. “There’s frost on it,” he said with a giggle. “That’s so cool.” He gave it a closer look, before he took a tentative sip of the tea – then frowned. “It’s cold now.”

“What? Really?” Jack asked, leaning over. He rubbed his neck with a sheepish smile. “Whoops. Didn’t know that would happen.”

“Sounds like a defense mechanism to me,” Jamie said smartly, and put the teacup back on the nightstand. “But that’s okay, I didn’t want to drink it anyway.”

“Well, then, you’re welcome,” Jack said, bowing playfully, before adding, “and it’s not a defense mechanism!”

“I’ll write down hot tea as one of your weaknesses.”

“It’s not my—What do youmeanyou’re writing down my weaknesses?”

Jamie gave his best evil chuckle. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he said, wiggling his brows.

Jack feigned offense. “Alright, then, no more snow days for you guys.”

“Wait, no!” Jamie gasped, throwing himself forward to catch Jack’s arm. “I was kidding, I was kidding!”

“Nope, it’s too late now—”

No, it’s never too late!” He shook Jack’s arm dramatically and headbutted it as if he was begging on his knees. “Don’t punish Pippa and the others for my crime—Wait.” He suddenly looked up at Jack, the thought of snow days making him remember something. Jack, who’d just broken character because he couldn’t hold back his laugh, tilted his head questioningly to the side.

“Wait for what?”

“For—uh…” Jamie swung his legs out of bed and got to his feet. The floor was cold without socks, and he quickly tiptoed across it to his desk. There was also a slight twinge of uncertainty that he tried to ignore as he started looking through his drawers. “I have—I mean, I hope I have, if I haven’t…lost it…”

“What are you looking for?” Jack asked, getting to his feet as well. He stopped at the other side of the desk.

Jamie laughed sheepishly. “Uh, well…” he started, making Jack quirk a curious brow. “…I was hoping you’d visit sometime close to Christmas, or even...even on Christmas day or something, but I guess I knew you’d be busy.” He didn’t like the guilty look Jack got, and quickly waved his hands. “That’s okay, though. But I have a gift for you. Well, it’s—it’s not really agift,but…I realized my first, um…portrayal of this incident was not completely how it happened, you know? So…Oh, here it is.” He pulled up a piece of folded paper and handed it to Jack.

Jack had an odd look on his face. Jamie thought Jack often had an odd look on his face. Sometimes, Jamie was able to discern it. This wasn’t one of those times, however. As Jack gently took the paper from Jamie and unfolded it, his eyes widened a fraction.

Jamie walked around the desk to stand beside Jack. “After you told me what really happened, it felt wrong having that drawing on my wall,” he explained, looking at the drawing he’d made after going sledding through town – and ultimately gotten run over by a couch – except now, Jack was flying above him, creating ice and snow for sharpie-Jamie to slide on. “So I decided to change it. It was more like this, wasn’t it? Since you were there?”

Jack didn’t immediately answer. He was looking down at the drawing, and though he was smiling, there was still that oddness in his eyes. “That’s exactly how it happened,” he said. “Thank you so much, Jamie. I love it.”

He looked genuinely happy, and Jamie felt his heart swell. He jumped up and wrapped his arms around him. Jack laughed softly and returned the hug.

“I don’t have anything to give you, though,” Jack said as he pulled back.

Jamie shrugged. “The fact that you’re here is enough,” he said with a grin. He put a finger in the air. “But! If you really want to return the favor, you can come back tomorrow and play with us some more.”

Jack smiled. “That sounds like a deal.”

Among the Guardians, there were other supernatural beings. Like spirits or sprites or even just forces of energy – uncontrolled magic. And then there were things that could be something in between. Jack was a spirit: he was once a living, mortal being, and now he wasn’t. Tooth’s tooth fairies were sprites; they’d never been human, but they were living, magical beings. An example of something in between a sentient thing and an uncontrolled force of magic would be poltergeists: a magical force, but with just enough sentience to be able to differentiate between good and evil.

Unfortunately, they were mostly evil, like poltergeists. Or…like heat sprites. ‘Heat sprites’ was a bit of a misnomer – while that’s what they were called, they didn’t do much else than float around in warm climates. Communication was fruitless, always had been, and they only seemed to gravitate towards one thing: making life miserable for those who found themselves wandering around in the warm summer heat. They were somewhere on the scale between sprite and energy, and there was no way to get rid of them permanently. They just kept reforming in the heat.

Jack hated them. Not much of a surprise; he was pretty sure they would have hated him as well, had they been able to hate. They were basically polar opposites, and Jack stayed away from them as much as possible. Jamie had been onto something when he guessed Jack was vulnerable to heat and summer: His magic was considerably weaker when the heat sprites were around, especially in large numbers. At this point, Jack couldn’t remember the last time he’d encountered one, because what would he be doing in warm climates anyway? No, Jack had no business there, but today madezero dayssince the last time Jack had encountered a heat sprite. Or several. But why? Well, the thing was, they didn’t usually appear in the middle of winter inIceland.

It happened every now and then that the sprites wandered too far north – way too far north in this case – and in order to protect Jack’s territory, not to mention to keep some order among the people living there, someone had to fend them off. Unfortunately, that was Jack’s job. Being Jack Frost,the most powerful winter spirit and the harbinger of winter and all that, there was no one who could chase away heat sprites as easily as he could.

That being said, it was justeasier.It wasn’teasy.But he’d manage. Besides, it was his first real challenge since becoming a Guardian, so he wanted to make a good impression. Be a little responsible. Maybe Bunny would shut up then.

The job went quickly enough. Took him a day, but it went by in a flash. That’s what he’d like to say to the others at least, but it was hard to hide the way the thin layer of frost covering his skin had started to melt. He heard Jamie’s voice in his head, asking if he would melt if he got too warm. No, he wouldn’t, but it sure felt like it right now. And,wow,he really thought it would’ve stopped by now, but the gleam on his skin remained like a strange imitation of sweat.

Feeling too fatigued to do anything more winter spirit-y for the day, Jack headed back to the North Pole. He tried to ignore the fact that his condition didn’t seem to be improving, but it got hard when he started having trouble keeping himself airborne. He was very thankful of the wind helping him get all the way back without any emergency landings.

With a heavy sigh, Jack pushed the window to North’s workshop open and hopped inside as usual. However, just when he hit the ground,his legs decided they’d had enough, and he stumbled forward. His arms flailed for leverage, but skipped the edge of the table and instead went straight for the ice castle. The intricate structure slid off the edge. With a small yelp, Jack held out his staff, a heap of soft snow appeared on the floor. The castle didn’t fall any more than a couple of centimeters, and all seemed to be intact. Jack had never been more grateful for his powers.

“That was close call, Jack. Bit too close.”

Jack winced, following North’s voice with his eyes. North was standing in the doorway and had seemingly enteredjustin time to see Jack’s almost-accident. Jack sent him an innocent smile.

“Nothing happened,” he said, holding his hands up. Then he grimaced at the heap of snow, knowing the elves would probably be assigned the task to get rid of it. “Well, almost nothing.”

“What happened to you?” North asked, frowning as his eyes went up and down Jack’s trembling body. He closed the door behind himself and walked into the room.

Jack automatically took a couple steps back. “Uh…well, the—It’s normal, don’t worry,” he said with a sheepish smile. He couldn’t lie to himself, much less North; he knew this looked bad. “Heat sprites and all that. They were all over Iceland.”

“You are melting?” North asked, looking appropriately concerned about the idea.

“No!” Jack quickly said. “Why does everyone—No, I’m just…I—I guess you could call it sweating?” Judging by North’s displeased expression, it wasn’t a good idea to call it that. “Areaction,then,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “It’s just water, and it’ll pass in a bit. Should’ve…passed on my way here, but…” The last part came out in a mumble. Partly because he didn’t want North to worry, partly because speaking coherently was becoming more challenging by the second.

North’s worry was not placated. His bushy brows were furrowing over his bright eyes, creating creases on his forehead. He took a step forward, holding out a hand. “Jack…are you sure you are alright? You look a bit…” He trailed off.

Jack tried clearing his throat, and made a valiant effort to straighten his back. He leaned more of his weight on his staff than usual. “Yeah, I just…” he started, walking around the table.

He was fine.

Hewasfine…right?

Jack frowned, feeling his grip slip around his staff. “I just…feel a bit tired, that’s all.”

He shook his head and blinked, trying to get the exhaustion out his head that way. All it did was make the world spin faster, and he stumbled. North reached forward just in time, catching him before he could hit the ground.

He groaned weakly, using North as support as he tried to himself upright again, but his arms didn’t seem to respond to his will. He held onto North, his vision rapidly blurring. A part of him was feebly catching up, thinking that maybe this was something to worry about after all. Jack sagged forwards, and North’s voice became more and more distant, until he heard nothing at all.

Of the Northmost Winds and Skies - Chapter 1 - xxiiyu (2024)
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