Thanks so much to those that reviewed, followed, etc so far. This fic cannot have been written without you. I would still be lying in bed with my cold just harboring my ROTG fantasies and generally being unproductive in life. Now I can get over that and make these ROTG fantasies public and … still …. be unproductive in life. Hey, homework sucks.
Bunnymund sat in Jack's darkening room, clasping the boy's hand in one paw and watching the sun set outside Jack's window.
Red and gold hues streaked across the sky in a beautiful yet distant way. It reminded Bunnymund of Jack himself – brilliantly cold, so outstanding that he never fit in.
He sighed and watched as something round and golden flew past the window and darted into the sky's growing inky blackness.
Sandy must be making his nightly rounds, Bunnymund thought distantly, his eyes tracing the last golden specks of Sandy's presence.
The hand Bunnymund was holding turned a little, and the bunny's eyes snapped to Jack's face.
Still asleep…but little golden images began sprouting above the winter spirit's head.
Right, Jack must be dreaming, now that Sandy is up and about.
Bunnymund leaned forward, curious. He had to admit despite himself that he was interested to see what Jack would dream about. Bunnymund realized he didn't really know what the boy's unconscious desires and pursuits were.
It was obvious enough to extrapolate what the other Guardians dreamed of. He himself dreamed of a perfect Easter, North of merry Christmases, Tooth of the most sparkling teeth, and Sandy – well, Sandy didn't count. He was the maker of the dreams, after all.
He probably dreams about people dreaming, silly golden man, Bunnymund thought fondly.
Yet, amidst it all, he hadn't the faintest clue what Jack would dream of. Enormous snow days of his own volition? Happy children frolicking about in said snow?
To Bunnymund's surprise, only one child sprang up in the golden dunes above Jack's brow.
She was a little girl, with shoulder length hair, and long bangs. Small lips were scrunched up in pleasure as she twisted and twirled on what looked like an ice rink. A figure draped in a cloak stood watching her from the side lines, and Bunnymund realized with a shock that it was Jack.
He truly looked different without his customary hoodie.
Strangely, his customary staff was also missing. Instead, "Jack" leaned against a large oak tree, one hand resting on a branch and the other on his hip. Long bangs brushed against his eyes, which watched as the girl did a small flip on the ice and swanned past him merrily.
This was what Jack dreamt about? A girl on ice? That was…that was…Bunnymund was sort of at a loss to what that really was.
He would have said odd, except that there was a sort of tender air in the dream. Unlike than North's glorious ones, or Tooth's glamorous ones, Jack's dream was simple, quaint, and in this way, beautiful.
Outstanding…yet it fit, nonetheless.
This is just a fluffy little treat for you amazing reviewers X)
I know it's short, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting while I progressed the plot.
Next chapter, Pitch will make an appearance!