Dark Moon, High Tide
By Uniasus
Chapter 1 - Alone in the World
It had been odd, but more so sudden, when Nicolas could no longer communicate with Manny. They had never been vodka buddies, nor exceptionally close, but the Moon had a habit of appearing in his skylight from time to time and Nicolas would greet the child guardian and check that all was well.
But here was the Moon, framed perfectly for a decent lengthy conversation and there was no voice saying hello. Even when Nicolas had stepped into moonlight, waved his hands and jumped, there had been no response.
He had the fearful thought that the Moon Clipper was empty. There was no Manny there to talk to.
It was a ridiculous thought. Why wouldn't Manny be on the space ship? He was unable to visit Earth, or leave the Moon at all really. And no one had the capability to go there to harm him. Even if Pitch Black desperately wanted to sink his fangs into Manny, he lacked a ship that could take him to the Moon. He was stuck on Earth.
Manny was just sleeping, Nicolas supposed. It had to happen sometime. The fact that this was the first time Manny was sleeping as the Moon appeared in his skylight was special only because it was the first time. Nothing sinister was, could, be going on. Manny was safe, the children were safe, the world was safe.
"Sweet dreams," Nicolas sent to the sky. He'd say hi next time he noticed the Moon overhead.
When he first heard his name, two things stuck him as odd. One was that 'Jack Frost' felt like an alias. The other was that the voice who said it was familiar, much more so than his own laugh.
There is something odd about the winter spirit below, Sanderson thought. Odd about the way he was familiar. Spirits were unique creatures, perhaps more so than the humans of Earth, and certainly were more varied than stars.
The only reason a spirit should feel familiar was if Sanderson had met him before and forgotten. But he could tell, by the sharp taste of magic in the air and the limited range the teen kept himself to, that his white haired spirit was new. Sanderson had never met him.
That strange familiarity had him keep an eye on the spirit for a few decades, learning his name was Jack Frost, but Sanderson never approached him. Something about that white skin and those blue eyes kept him back from introducing himself, a feeling that just made the Guardian more wary.
Until it hit him that Jack wasn't familiar because he reminded Sanderson of a spirit he couldn't remember, but because the winter spirit reminded him of an entire species he had never thought to see again.
Star herders.
White hair, lithe body, and a fondness for moonlight, Jack Frost tickled Sanderson's mind because he was a reminder of better days. Better days and then their end.
Mental itch scratched, Sanderson found he no longer could stand to look at the teen who frolicked in the snow without shoes. It was mournful. It was painful.
He flew away and did his best to ignore the presence of Jack Frost.
There were times, looking in windows before the frost crept in or catching his reflection in bright, clear ice, that his own image made him pause and stare. There was something off about it.
Not his hair, or his eyes. Though he had never seen another with his coloring they still felt right to him. No, it was his nose that gave him pause. Or sometimes even the shape of his head or the smoothness of his forehead.
He laughed it off, playing games with himself.
Tooth wasn't supposed to stop, not for anything, when the aurora glowed and called them all together.
And yet, that's exactly what she did.
There was a boy in the air.
He was glowing, which was very unusual.
He was staring at the aurora, poised in a position to fly off somewhere quickly, but it was obvious he didn't know where. He was facing north, facing the Pole, as if he knew what the aurora meant and felt as if he should join the Guardians. But that was silly. No one knew what it mean aside from the four of them. No one else felt the pull of the Oath when they saw the lights in sky.
There was a shift in the wind and suddenly the boy no longer glowed.
Tooth looked up into the sky, a cloud had just passed over the Moon. She wrinkled her forehead in confusion. The spirit had been glowing – with moonlight? No, that was silly. He was most likely an ice spirit, whose skin shown in any type of light. It had been a reflection, nothing more.
She took off like an arrow to the Pole, putting the boy out of her mind.
It didn't take him long to realize the eyes he felt on him came from the sky. More specifically, from the Moon. He didn't know why the Moon took such a special interest in him, to the point that just by feeling the eyes between his shoulder blades he always knew where it was even during a new moon.
Someone, something, living on the Moon was constantly keeping an eye on him.
And so, he decided to try to talk to whoever they were. He knew there was something strange about him, there had to be for other spirits to avoid him, but if the Moon was watching then perhaps he would be willing to have a conversation.
But every word that slipped out of his mouth wasn't answered, and he always got the unsettling feeling that he was talking to himself in the mirror.
He couldn't bring himself to stop though. When he actually meet someone who would greet him, he didn't want his voice to be rusty from disuse.
Aster had just gotten back to the Warren when he felt a shift in the weather. Ears jerking up with alarm, he raced back to the surface. It was Easter, he had to check on the kids. He used his connection with the Earth to feel for the center of the disturbance and had his tunnels open up there.
It was, without a doubt, a blizzard.
The wind howled, ice stung at his cheeks, and the temperature was making his joints stiff. He couldn't see the sun, he couldn't see three feet in front of him so it really wasn't that surprising when he bumped into a storefront. There was an analog clock on display and Aster felt relief flood him when he realized it was two in the afternoon. The blizzard had started after the egg hunts. The children were safe.
Didn't mean the storm hadn't effected his holiday. No power, no Easter dinner, no chance to go out and play, and certainly families had to cancel their travel plans. Snarling, Aster continued walking to where he felt the blizzard's center to be. It was too sudden, too out of season, for it to be a natural storm. Someone was causing it.
Someone who made Aster stop in his tracks.
There was something young about the spirit, the rawness to his power and the way he stood in the middle of the town's street. And yet...something else screamed of immense age and of loneliness equal to his own.
The spirit turned to look at him, bright blue eyes and moon white hair. Aster again got that strange sense of young and old for the face was young and the expression on it ancient. He froze at the sensation until the spirit blinked at him.
"Hey! Stop this blizzard right now!"
The spirit flew in close, grin on his face. "First, tell me your name." His voice was horse, dry, and sounded like it had traveled a great distance from his mouth to Aster's ears even though they were less than a foot apart. It made his fur stand up on edge.
"Bunny. Aster. E. Aster Bunnymund. The Easter Bunny. Guardian of Hope and Light." Why did he feel the need to list off all of that? As if this punk kid was someone he wanted to impress?
"I'm Jack Frost."
The blizzard died, the sky and sun suddenly bright overhead with the only evidence of the storm a few seconds ago was the feet of snow and powerless devices.
"Today is Easter. No one messes with Easter." He pulled out his boomerang and ran a paw along it.
"Okay." And suddenly Jack was gone.
Aster shivered. Sandy had mentioned once coming across a spirit who had unnerved him. Aster was pretty sure it had been Jack Frost. Aster hoped he never came across him again.
There was something stirring. He didn't know what, but he knew something was. The shadows were darker and sometimes he saw trails of obsidian sand in the sky, visible only when the Moon and stars shined on them and he could catch the other colors of funereal purple and three day bruise blue.
When the sand condensed, when there were horses prancing around, something in his chest commanded him to stop it. So he did, spreading out his magic and calling in the clouds, flash freezing the horses and burying them under the pressure of snow. He had known it was Easter - holidays, Guardians, were things he knew instinctively - but that just made it more important to stop the horses now. Make the darkness start from scratch.
And well, if he finally got a spirit to talk to him, that was an extra bonus.
The name 'Jack Frost' still sounded false.
A/N: Transferring this over from Ao3, where it is complete. For those who follow me both here and there, please don't spoil it for the rest of my readers.
For the crowd, did you notice the FORESHADOWING GALORE? I swear, if someone doesn't guess what's up with Jack in this AU before Pitch, my writing is awful. Or my mind just too advanced for mere mortal fanfic readers to understand. Guess away in the reviews, I loving hearing what you come up with.