Hi~! This is my very first fanfic on RoTG, so, if there's anything wrong, I apologize. ~ Cammary Erys


|Jack Frost|

He was only sitting on Jamie's roof looking at the dreams Sandy was giving when he saw her.He held out his hand to reach out for a strand of gold that slithered it's way to Jamie's window. Bits and pieces separated itself from the dreamsand, revealing to the young Guardian that the boy was about to dreaming of the snow that will follow the next day. He was giving a laugh, imagining what Jamie would look like when he'd look out his window; when an idea had struck him.

He cupped his hands on one lone snowflake and blew softly on it; encasing it in ice that glowed a cool, soft shade of ice-blue as it shimmered with golden sand withing. He gave out a low-tuned whistle at the sight of the beauty he made from the sad his golden friend had madeespecially for Jamie.

"Wow," He whispered to himself softly as his eyes glinted mischief; and idea already forming in his mind. Maybe he could do this tomorrow; scare the pants out of everyone in the town of Burgess, make them wonder why there were bloody gold snowflakes. Thus, resulting to their most brilliant scientists to coop up in some nerd convention for the next 80 years wondering what had caused something so strange.

"That could work," He muttered to himself silently as he gazed upon the golden snowflake slowly drifting off his hand; resulting it to disintegrate after inching away. All that was left were gold sand that fell apart on its own entirely. He sighed. Guess I couldn't do it, he thought, but I gotta admit, that would scare the pants out of everybody.

Hugging his knees close to his chest, he rested his chin against it; blue eyes gazing at the moon who only spoke to him once and never again. At least until last year. Last year, just 3 days before Bunny's annual Egg Hunts, Jack was (quite literally) shoved in a sack and tossed through a portal that led him to his new-found family. . . It's also been a year since Pitch was dragged down into his own personal hell, too.

And, to be more literal, it's been a year since Kozmotis Pitchiner lost in a battle that wasn't really for him to fight. Jack shuddered, recalling of the telling of the story by Bunnymund. He really didn't like remembering it; seeing as how cruel things could be for ambition and power. Willing to separate a father from his daughter was one of those acts of cruelty.

"Pitch got lost in a sea of Fearlings as soon as he opened 'em jail cells," Bunnymund had said, "They made them believe MiM's family had captured him and destroyed his good name; turning him to what he is now. As much as I would want to tell you what happened else, you're too young, mate. Let's just say he ne'er saw or remembered his daughter again."

Jack relished the fact that he had a new family; how his decision after having been promised a deal by Pitch had changed his life entirely. With Pitch, Jack knew he'd have believers. But what was the point if he'd be feared and never loved? All he needed was the love parents gave their children whole-heartedly. That was all. So if he only had 1 or two believers that loved him without any hint of fear; he'd be the luckiest guy in the world.

The reason why he seemed so brooding now was how he felt so sad for Pitch's daughter. He knew how it felt like losing the people you truly love. He felt it himself when he recalled the time his father had died.

A gold piece of metal glinted by the corner of his eye, dragging Jack out of his pool of thoughts. His head spun to wherever the light had glinted. He saw no one, albeit a young girl staring into his soul just 2 blocks away. His breath was taken a back for a moment. The air seemed so heavy and quiet; there were no cars that passed by; nor children staying up late to play games in what they called a computer (Jack knew what they were; it was just so hard to believe how fast progress would go after all these years.); and no signs of adults in any side of a street. It seemed like a ghost town in Burgess. And what seemed so eerie was that it was only 9:09 pm. He squinted a bit, letting his sight of the girl enter into his mind. She seemed so familiar to him, but when he racked his mind of any time he'd seen a girl like her, it only went blank.

She had giant vibrant-blue orbs for eyes and pin-straight black hair that ended mid-waist; bangs were pushed against her ear. She had high cheekbones, from the looks of it, and pale skin (a lot like how pale Jack was when he was a human) with pink rosy cheeks. Her lips were pursed in a thin line, but from afar anyone could see she wad soft red lips. Even as far from Jack's distance. He wasn't so sure what she wore; but he could tell she was wearing denim jeans that was covered in snow and grass, black boots that were soaked from mud that hadn't been covered by the snow yet; and a leather jacket. In a way, she looked like a girl on a mission.

Jack blinked his eyes for a bit when he noticed how her eyes seemed dazed, tired, and hurt. Who is she? He thought, and why is she looking at me? . . . Heh, she's just probably a believer. He racked his mind. How many believers did he have? Probably six or seven.

Seven. Cupcake, Jamie, Pippa, Monty, Claude, Caleb, and Sophie (a young girl who reminded him so much of his younger sister.) He seemed to recall that Sophie had just celebrated her birthday a day after Easter; Jamie turned 9 last week; Cupcake was turning 13 a week before Christmas; and the rest had already turned 9 (except for Pippa, who was turning 10 a day before New Year). Sure Cupcake would be a teenager soon, but she'd only be 13. And besides, Jackson Overland Frost was not a moron because he knew none of the girls in their little gang was as old the girl who was staring at him. . . Right?

Jack nodded his head a bit unconsciously, unaware of the familiarity that beamed in the girl's eyes, casting aside the doubt it held. "Didn't North say on immortals and my believers could see me?" He muttered. ". . .She's probably a believer. . ." He suddenly widened his eyes and shook his head vigorously. "No, no, no! If Tooth and her mini-fairies would throw themselves at me, what coincidence would this girl do if shewas one?" So he rejected the idea that made him what to vomit like a little boy would if he ever got kissed by a girl.

He stared at the girl who stared back at him unblinking. She blinked a bit before a thought passed through her face and began to cross the road. Her right leg was limping, and every step she took, she winced and cursed under her breath every time. Her left arm dangled from its socket, swinging back and forth without a care in the world. At first, you'd think she was just fooling around; but from years of watching children trying to cover it up, Jack believed either her arm fell out of its socket, or she broke it. And how, he did not know. But judging from how it seemed to affect her, it wasn't a person-inflicted type. "Maybe she fell off a tree?" He suggested towards himself before shrugging it off. "That would be stupid."

He watched her as she paused in the middle of the street to catch her breath. She muttered something as her chest heaved up and down, making her right hand grasp her left elbow tightly as her forearm swayed back and forth. She took in a deep breath before taking another step. As soon as she had applied force on her right leg, she gasped and shrieked in pain, knees crumpling to the concrete ground and collapsed. She held her arms out in front of her, palms skidding across the rough ground. Her knees hit contact and was skinned as she fell forward. Her scream pierced through the heavy, dark night as sharp as a sword could tear through a tablecloth. The sound of raw pain buzzed in his ears, making him stay for a moment or two to cover them while his staff laid by his side.

When the shriek was drowned out by the silence, he grabbed his staff quickly and took off to where she lay crumpled on the street. He descended by the sidewalk, letting the butt of his staff stand on its own as he leaned against it. "Ma'am?" He asked with a slight British tone, "You okay, miss?"

She spun her torso around so quickly, it caused her to wince as she readjusted her leg. Her eyes (which were a brilliant shade of a kind of blue of the sea) seemed confused and scared for a moment before shaking her head. "I'm fine, actually," She said sarcastically, "I just felt it was the right moment to sit on a street." He gave her a questioning look before he strode over to her fallen figure. "Were you trying to get me to swoon over your Zayn impression?" He smirked as he knelt beside her, cold and frost-bitten fingers touching her leg softly.

"Nope," He admitted, "I just wanted to see if you were those types of girls that fainted at the sight of a 1D member." She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her injured leg. He looked at her knees. The cloth was ripped after skidding on the road's gravelly surface, revealing two bloody knees. She smirked.

"Well, I guess I really don't like them," She admitted, "I just don't see the point of acting like a bunch of lovable boys for the camera." He cocked an eyebrow.

"How'd you know they were like that?" He asked her as she paused to take a deep breath.

"I helped them with some things from the past." She said carefully, trying her words before spitting them out. "It's what I do for a living. I help people when they need me." He raised an eyebrow.

"So, you're like a Guardian?" He wondered. She gave him a quizzical look.

"What the heck is a Guardian?"

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