Author's Note: Not betad, I really liked the prompt though and tried to follow the suggestions. One thing I did not do was include Pitch in this…I just couldn't jam with anything I wrote for him, and I don't know if I got the whole kinetic thing right. I tried and there for no one should criticize me.
Also, spot the HTTYD moment. Feedback is encouraged, but never demanded, thank you for reading in the first place!
A pessimist complains about the wind. An optimist expects it to change, and a realist adjusts the sails. And if you're Jack Frost? You simply asking it nicely is all. Because when you're Jack Frost…the wind's got just as much personality as you do.
They were a lot alike, he and the wind. Of course, there were bigger differences (body, voice, magic) that separated them, but if Jack Frost spent 300 years of solitude thinking only the negative things, he never would have taken the advantage of flight in the first place, really. They were both invisible, to a point. Jack made snow and the wind blew the snow for him, and it did it rather well. It was a huge, shapeless mass, but was a scientific proven thing. Jack was only a myth. There were four winds, but Jack Frost knew there was really only one wind with sort of…4 different heads, kind of. It was the largest thing, in fact for most of his life he considered the wing to be bigger than the moon, and regarded it as such. Maybe it was, who knew? He'd seen a lot of history being made, he and the wind, but he'd never stepped foot in a science room.
Ever since his first flight on the pond in Burgess, Jack had realized quickly he was not doing any of the flying. He was being carried, with huge shapeless hands that were as gentle or as harsh as they wanted to be. The wind had a voice that could roar like a hurricane or whisper like a breeze, and Jack learned those sounds and the thousands of noises in between.
It listened to him back and acted as he wished. But it was not a pet; I must make that perfectly clear. The Wind was Jack's friend, and he was its. There was an…understanding between them. a sort of kinship. Maybe the Wind spoke to the Man in the Moon too; maybe it just instinctively knew Jack Frost needed it rather desperately, for if Jack had talked to anyone at all in his long life, it was the wind who heard first.
And had, as well as it could, answered back.
1. Tooth Fairy
She was only guardian who had wings. And she loved them, always! They were a part of her design as much as her sharp eyes, without them she would useless, without her flight she wouldn't stand a chance of doing her job. Sure, North had his sleigh and Sandy had his cloud planes and ships and Bunny of course had his tunnels, but she had only her wings.
So of course it rather surprised her when she realized once day Jack Frost…had nothing.
And yet he flew fantastically. Like it was easy as breathing, there were time he seemed to be made of feathers and others where he dropped like a stone, ducking out of Pitch's Nightmares like a fish in a river. A blast of air, and he was gone, then back again, striking with a windy surge of ice and power.
She'd startled at the revelation, blinking at little as she recalled the grace and ease with which he'd moved through the sky, either lazily as a cloud or during a battle with Pitch. Toothiana recalled the second fight with Pitch in which Sandy had perished, where Jack had spent himself with a new power and toppled from the sky, and then she remembered something else about that heart stopping moment.
He'd fallen so slowly and with more control than an unconscious body should have. At least in the drama of the time it had felt like it. Everyone had panicked and called out for him, over the…rather short, sudden desperate roar of the wind.
And when she'd shot up to catch him…she remembered something huge and cold at her back surging her forward faster than she'd ever flown before. It had been nothing to do with her wings, or even her urgency to get to him in time. It was like the wind was pushing—
At the time she'd been too caught up in the poor boy's safety to notice anything strange but now, well, her brain had marinated on the memory long enough it was pointing out the…odd little quirks that followed Jack Frost wherever he went.
Then she heard a whistling, and looked down.
She smiled at the frost sprite as he walked around on the grounds of her palace, a dozen or so Baby Tooths on break fluttering after him, feathers shinning in the sunlight. It wasn't rare at all for the youngest guardian to show up out of the blue, cheerfully waving as he landed and waiting for her to get off duty so they could chat. Jack was curious about anything, since nothing before Pitch had ever tried to hurt him because they couldn't see him, the boy hadn't learned to exercise caution as well as one would hope. Tooth thought it was rather adorable the way he'd fearlessly explore the area round her lake or the mountains, chattering to the Minis that came and went. He always had an enraptured, eager audience with her girls and always had room in his hoodie pocket or his windblown hair for them.
He was whistling idly now as he wandered around, staff cocked on one shoulder and at ease. And though her sharp hearing heard her baby's chirping back and trying to copy his, there was…another responder she hadn't noticed before, because she was used to it, but now that she focused in on it, well…
It'd shot round the mountains and round her walls, the many catacombs and holes supplying perfect tuning for the wind as it barreled down to one particular spot, that kept moving as Jack walked around. She gasped in surprised and hovered there in her main room of her open castle. She flicked around, kept up by her own humming wings and watched Jack turn to empty air with that boyish grin and give another melodic whistle, his hair swaying and clothes shifting like a friendly ruffle as the wind did its best to repeat the noise. Jack laughed softly and turned his attention back to the Mini Teeth.
Oh. Though Toothiana. Well. That DID make sense. How clever though! Befriending the wind, Jack really was someone special.
Sandy was often cautious about the wind. One good blow and his unattended sand could be grains in the wind, scattered, a good dream lost and he'd have to send down a new one. Normally he was left alone, but sometimes he felt the wind was inclined to be…playful. Like Jack was, actually. There was never any harm in its actions, but still. Given that, there were also times the wind could be useful, moving his trails faster toward the darker, emergency destinations, the kids who needed the good dreams. But these times happened randomly, there was never a pattern and it wasn't like the Sandman expected them. It was always a nice surprise.
But though he was the oldest, he had never once thought to, well…do what he saw Jack Frost doing.
"Hey, wind! Hah—cut that out! I'm trying to sleep!"
Sandy didn't turn around just yet; focused on making sure the boy was enjoying his dream of playing football with his big brother before he let himself be distracted by the odd noises coming behind his sand bed.
"Blow off you big oaf—omph! Oooh you'll pay for that, c'mere!"
ShhhwwwoooooOOOoooo, went the wind with a blast.
"Don't you even think of pushing me off this cloud you little—uawah!" Like he'd said. VERYplayful, just like their young guardian.
Sandy gave a start and leaned over the edge of his own cloud, the shapes of an !? over his head.
"I'm fine Sandy," Jack laughed, coasting back up to him and dropping on his stomach on the cloud bed Sandy had crafted for him. The wind buffeted his shoulder and Jack was distracted, rolling over to swat at it like it was a corporal thing TO swat at, calling the wind all manner of names as they teased. The wind had the upper hand of course…it was the wind. There nothing to it but movement. Nothing to hit or hurt, even. Why, Sandy realized as he sent an offhanded trail of sleep dust down below to a little girl, the wind was more invisible than Jack had been—
"I'm telling ya, I'll go to Washington when I get the chance, but for now I'm dead beat buddy, just a couple hours, please? You don't want another fiasco like the one in Toronto in 2009, do you?"
Shhhrrow. Said the…wind.
"And no dropping me again. I really don't want to be a splat on the pavement. S'kinda of a day ruiner."
Slightly. Sandy though with a shake of his head at the lackadaisical guardian.
Sandy looked around in confusion as he felt coldness just stop brushing his cheek. The wind had settled suddenly, and they drifted through the skies by Sandy's own magical movement. Jack however, had yawned, rolled on his side and curled up on his golden bed, hugging his staff, eyes closing lazily.
"Yeah…didn't think so…" Sandy heard Jack murmur, and soon his breathing slowed and he drifted off. Sandy wondered, a little idly, just what had happened in Toronto four years ago, but he realized this wasn't the time to ask.
He watched in wonder as something blew and whuffed and pushed the side of Jack's sand bed until a thin layer covered him like a blanket. Jack stirred, humming a bit, but did not wake as a breeze brushed his hair back from his eyes like the hand of a mother to her sleeping child. The wind quieted after that, and did not roar or blow hard enough to be heard again.
Sandy had the feeling it was still around though. To quote his old friend, he felt it in his belly.
"Ah, great, just great…" Bunnymund sighed, sitting on his back legs heavily as he inspected the mess before him.
"What's up bunny?"
"…an when it rains it bloody pours..." The Easter guardian muttered to himself, turning round from the mess to see Jack Frost, smiling that little smile at him. "Awh, one of my guards fell again; they've always been unsteady but this poor bugger's worn right down and has been unsteady for years. Takes forever to right the blasted thing, and I don't have time—"
"I can help."
"...this hears an Easter Island guardian mate, bugger weigh hundreds of pounds, you're so skinny if you stuck out yah tongue you'd look like a zipper." Bunny shot, rather irritable about all the work he had before him, and surely it'd only be hindered by this show pony.
But it was no good; the excitable sprite had already gotten it in his head to 'help' him and had alighted on top of the massive stone egg, gesturing eagerly.
"No, no check it out, Jamie was teaching me about kina—kine….kinetic energy last Monday! It's this really cool science that helps you reason how to lift things!" He paused, looking round the area and then at the fallen egg he was perched on. "We have to make a pulley!"
Bunny's ears flicked toward Jack a bit, giving the kid his best suspicious look. "Kinetic whut?"
An hour and a half later found them surrounded by curious legged eggs and the Egg Elf as well, with Bunny having complained a bit but going generally along with Jack for most of the time. He'd already tried everything else, after all. Jack finished tying the thick leather around the thickest tree branch Bunny knew off. It stretched in a triangle, over the branch at the tallest part and two sides downward.
"Alright now we just pull this—" he gestured to the smaller stone the leather was tied to, the other end wrapped, with some effort, round the height of the stone guardian that was still on its side, legs waving in the air in a half heart gesture by now.
"Until the guys back on his feet. Easy!" Jack grinned.
"…oi ya gumby we're back where we started, you an'I can't pull that down hard enough—"
"I didn't mean you and me Bunny, watch," Jack waved him off, hopping effortlessly up to take hold of the leather just above the smaller stone and grip it firmly.
"Okay wind, on three!" Jack called cheerfully up at the sky.
And then a huge, heavy wind blew to life, Bunny's fur ruffling all around as eggs scuttled under him or in holes for protection, because the wind felt like it had gotten strong enough to blow anything away.
Or anything down, as it were. Just as Jack yelled 'THREE!' the stone started being buffeted and both it and the winter sprite were being hauled slowly down, the weight of the mammoth stone slowing the progress.
…but it was lifting up, Bunny saw, eyebrows rising in surprise. The Pooka watched in honest amazement as the wind continued dragging the stone and Frost down, nearly snapping the branch off the ancient tree, but by association lifting the stone egg upward, finally tipping it on its feet where it staggered, righted itself, and stood firmly.
"Okay!" Like a snap the wind died at Jack's word and Jack let go of the stone, which stayed where it was, as the huge stone egg was much heavier, and wouldn't off set it.
"….well I'll be." Bunny managed, before snapping back to reality, lifting himself up and hopping to get the stone egg out of its leather harness.
"…good trick there Frost, I'll give ya that." He offered with a grunt, trying not to show his astonishment.
"Wasn't a trick," Jack grinned proudly. "That was science."
Now Bunny thought he heard the wind ruffle the trees, and he thought the noise was vaguely modeled after a chuckle…but he was probably just hearing things.
For the third time that day, Jack Frost was thrown back first into his workshop and the balcony doors slammed closed. For the third time, Jack landed in an ungraceful heap of limbs and staff and occasionally elves or toys.
North himself looked up from his work from the third time that day, and watched in bemusement as the gangly boy sprung up, grabbed his staff, spitting curses and jumped for the doors like someone had light a fire under him.
"Wind, let me out!" Jack demanded, startling several elves in the room, who looked at each as if to say 'who the heck is he talking to!?'
"Seriously, I wanna go home! Wind! I know you can hear me!"
The doors rattled, buffeting them closed from the outside.
"Aw come ON!" Jack cried, giving the door a good kick than nursing his foot.
North chuckled behind his latest sculpture.
"It is seeming the wind does not wish for you to leave, eh Jack?" North stood, tramping over to watch as Jack as he pulled on the handles with all his might, and the wind sucked outward, and holding them closed.
"Grh—no, it's—just—mad that I—muungh—" but what the wind was mad at Jack for, he never got to tell, because suddenly the wind stopped sucking and the doors FLEW back, and by gravity so did Jack, who tumbled thankfully into a pile of half completed stuffed animals by a tree.
"…thank you for nothing, you useless air." Came a deadpan mutter from under a floppy stuffed unicorn.
The hinges rattled and slammed again almost…cheerfully, North realized with wonder.
"Jack…what did you ask the Wind?" Because North learned quickly, almost anything the boy asked, the Wind leapt to action without missing a beat.
"…what I always ask, I said wind, take me home! And this is what I get…slammed into a teddy bear with no arm and a dragon without its button eyes….eh, creepy…" Jack moaned wearily, scrambling up and kicking his staff into his hands without thinking about it. North nodded, stroking his beard.
"Then I am thinking, and correct me if I am wrong…do you not think THIS is your home as well?" He gestured to the place where Jack was six days out of the week, where he often fell asleep and where he had been given his own room and everything, chilled to his liking. Where he ate and played and brought Jamie sometimes, where he didn't even bother announcing he'd come anymore, because he didn't feel he had to.
The look on Jack's face was priceless, and a shutter banged once, smugly.