I can't say for sure if writing is my forte or not, but I enjoy doing it, and I found this text post from @softichill so inspiring I had to give what they were envisioning a try:
The harder part is nailing the tone so I do think this is a bit more melancholy than the movie itself. Only the opening scene for now. If people like it, I may write more. Please let me know if you do/would want that. Divider credit.
They were swept up by the portal in a whorl of light, and Jack felt his ears pop. The fizz of magic was like lightning on his skin. Not that he’d ever been struck by lightning to know the feeling. Not directly anyway…
He touched his fingers to the nape of his neck, flesh tensing at the memory. High up in the clouds. So high there was no sky, and no landscape. Only damp, grey air. Holding him there, suspended, between the crack and lash of electricity. He’d closed his eyes. Held his breath. And waited and hoped for the darkness that had once released him into life to greet him again…
…Somewhere else.
Anywhere else…
His balance was thrown, the sleigh bucking as it hit the ground, the reins taut in North’s great fists. The reindeer skidded to a halt. Although seemingly a little more used to the ride since he hadn’t complained whilst they were flying, Bunny - ears drawn back, and grip firm on the edges of his seat - still sighed with relief once the sleigh came to a stop.
Tooth was already in the air, wings a blur and her voice a light murmur as she directed her fairies. Soon joined by Sandy, who guided himself out of the sleigh on a cloud puff of his signature golden sand.
Feeling lighter than ever, Jack sprang after them, Bunny and North not far behind. His bare feet met a soft dusting of ice over the landing strip, chipped and pummelled by the reindeers' strong hooves. A trio of yetis rushed into the tunnel out of a pair of heavy wooden doors to attend to the beasts. They were followed by a little stream of elves, their hat-bells jingling madly. Jack lifted a foot to avoid their weaving. His full-circled hop turned him around until he was last in the line, North already way ahead and leading them into the dark, rustic lobby they had all hurried out of what felt like weeks prior.
In reality, it had only been days. Life had been so still and empty for so long, and now…
The scentless chill of the ice melted into notes of warm cinnamon and sugar-cookie sweetness. Tooth had stopped rubbing at her arms, and Bunny’s shoulders were more relaxed. A clear signifier that the temperature must have changed. As usual, Jack didn’t feel the benefit. Cold clung to him the way it always had. He meandered after them all, half-hopping, half-skipping his way up the winding, central staircase, as interested in the goings on of North’s workshop as he had been on the first look around. There was magic and wonder in every corner. Too much to see all at once. The exact kind of things he used to dream of and spin tales about to his sister and their friends, long before he was Jack Frost.
It’s always been there, he realised.
They passed by the chaos of toy-making in a spiral, until they were finally at the top-most walkway. North led them into the room they had all first met in. Except for himself and Bunny, but so much had changed since then, Jack felt it was almost like they had met each other for the first time all over again.
As Bunny drew close to the fire and Sandy drifted after Tooth, Jack hung back by the entryway. The globe was restored with the soft twinkle of millions of lights. His heart felt fit to burst knowing some of those lights were his too. He couldn’t help but admire the little patch of land, wood-carved in miniature, that he knew to be Jamie’s - and his - home.
Home.
Where he had first emerged into awareness. Out of the dark and cold of the pond, and into the moon’s light…
Never had he ever imagined it was his true home. Where he had lived before he had been chosen. Before he had become Jack Frost…
‘...not that you are not all welcome to stay, of course,’ North was saying.
Jack drew his attention away from the globe and back into the room. Similarly distracted, Tooth offered them all a beaming smile, hands clasped under her chin.
‘Oh, I’d love to, but I’ve got a lot of catching up to do!’
Gathering up his sand, Sandy nodded his agreement. It was always night-time somewhere, Jack supposed, and he understood: their time together had come to an end.
His pulse quickened all the same, a little flurry of fear flooding his chest.
‘I wish I could say the same, but Easter’s been and gone,’ Bunny said, his face softening with a sad smile. He then loosened his shoulders and winked. ‘Until next year.’
Tooth bowed her head and repeated the sentiment.
‘That’s the spirit,’ North encouraged, ‘next year, Easter will be bigger than ever! And this year, Christmas will be like no other. I will make sure of it.’
‘You better,’ Bunny said, expression hardening with seriousness. ‘We’ll all have to work harder than ever before to reverse the damage Pitch caused. Speaking of which.’
As Bunny turned his sharp-eyed glare on him, Jack found himself the centre of all their attention once more.
He was reminded of his first visit - the staring, the swooning, and the fanfare. After so long going so unnoticed, there was something about being perceived that felt near-painful. The excitement that had carried him on their sleigh ride was doused into nervousness when Bunny straightened and pointed at him.
‘Don’t you go thinking your part in all of this is over and done, mate. If you’re serious about being a Guardian, you’ll need more than a handful of believers on your side.’
Maybe things hadn’t changed so much after all… There was a familiar scratching at his throat. Jack blinked, determined not to show any upset. His words left gravelled anyway.
‘I am serious about being a Guardian.’
He scanned the faces around the room, heart hammering. Didn’t they believe in him?
A worrying thought froze up all the others. What if Jamie was the only one who would ever believe…? His friends had followed suit only because of him, right…? Because they trusted Jamie’s word. Because they knew and believed in him. Not Jack Frost…
North then stepped forward, hands out as though in offering. ‘There is always work to be done. But, you have proven yourself this day. That is cause for celebration.’
‘Right,’ Tooth chimed in, drawing closer to him in her hummingbird way. She offered a comforting squeeze to his arm. ‘This is a shared responsibility between all of us. Now Pitch is gone, you have so much time. You’re going to be a wonderful Guardian, Jack.’
Before he could really think about it, Jack had already shrugged her off. He still wasn’t used to all of this... The attention, the touching... Maybe those were things his old self had been more familiar with…
He had remembered so much, but he couldn’t help but think there was still a lot that was missing. A pat to the pocket on his hoodie confirmed he hadn’t brought the memory box with him. If there was more to discover about himself, it would be in there, right…?
Tooth gave him a lop-sided smile, then whirred back to her original place. Jack thought he should follow after her. Correct the aversion he’d shown. Ask her if the box was worth finding again.
Instead, he stayed rooted where he was. That was something he could figure out on his own. He just had to find the box where he had left it, and…
There might be more to remember. More happy times, like those he’d had with his sister. Like before, the memory warmed him in a way he could only guess real warmth felt like. A lightness inside. Relief. Something bright and hopeful, like the moon’s light. He had saved her. Coaxed laughter and fun out of her fear. That was love, wasn’t it? Her trust in him. He would have done and said anything to keep her from crying. To make her believe she was safe.
But the memory was tainted, too. Dark at the edges. There was no escaping his plunge into the pond…
Sandy stretched, yawning silently, and Jack willed himself away from the unhappier rememberings trying to resurface. The sand cloud Sandy was riding lifted closer to the hatch in the roof, towards the daylight, the moon gone to show his face elsewhere.
As if prompted by his departure, Tooth, and the three fairies fluttering around her shoulders, each ascended too. One of them was Baby Tooth. When Jack caught her eye, she twirled and swayed. He leaned on his staff and waggled his fingers, silently wishing her and the others goodbye. Around more parting greetings from Bunny and North, Sandy and Tooth both disappeared into the snow white sky. Dreams to make, and teeth to collect…
Jack felt a wistful smile play at his lips. They knew exactly what to do... And so did he, he had to remind himself. When he tried to imagine where he would go after all of this, how he might garner the belief of more children, he had to admit… he felt at a bit of a loss. But his memories from the Tooth Palace had taught him his center… They had shown him who he was at heart, whether in this life, or the last.
Fun.
Wasn’t he always having fun? Even before the man in the moon had called on him to join the Guardians… He’d thought so, at least.
All he had to do was more of that.
Jack glanced at North, who was dusting his hands free of his parting wave. Then at Bunny, still standing to attention, gaze fixed to the square of now empty sky through the hatch. Holding his cane in both hands, Jack wrung the gnarled wood with his palms.
No… If the same old tricks were the way forward, they would have worked a long time ago. He could… ask, he supposed. If all of this was a shared responsibility like Tooth had said, then maybe North or Bunny would be able to offer some guidance…
As though sensing his unspoken doubts, North looked right at him, a sparkle in his eyes as he shifted them to Bunny, then back again.
‘And now, what will you two do?’
‘Well,’ Bunny said, drawing the word out, ‘I might not have Easter to prepare for anymore, but I’ve got a load of clearing up to do back at the warren…’
This was his moment, Jack thought. He should ask for some pointers.
‘And you, Jack?’ North invited, pulling at a strand of his white beard.
‘I, uh…’
The noise outside the room had existed as only a distant, tinny thrum, until a great crash announced itself from deep inside the workshop. North held up a finger, bidding them to wait, and stomped for the entryway right as one of the yetis burst in. They gestured in panic, shouting in their garbled, nonsensical language.
‘Yes, yes, I am on my way,’ North said with an edge of impatience. ‘Always something…’
As Jack watched him go, he thought being a Guardian must be much easier with an event to plan and prepare for. Bunny and North could sustain belief on one big spectacle per year. Then all the days in between, they could simply indulge in and embody all of the things that made their respective holidays so important…
The winter time was his domain. He recalled his last words to Jamie. Just because something wasn’t there, that didn’t mean there was nothing to believe in anymore...
He didn’t need to ask, Jack decided. The others had their own problems, their own work to do. Much like Sandy, who could always find the night elsewhere, there was always somewhere with snow and cold.
I don’t need help finding that, he thought, feeling smug.
Until an uneasiness crept in. Most of those places he knew were barren and lonely. Hiding spots. Corners he used to retreat into when…
A movement in the room pulled Jack from his worries.
Hunkered down, nose twitching, Bunny hopped a few paces closer. ‘Listen, mate, about before…’
Jack frowned with suspicion at his gentler tone.
‘I don’t mean to be rough on you… I just… I know what it’s like now. To not be believed in.’
He couldn’t seem to hold eye contact, and his ears were more relaxed than usual, sagging a little with unspoken emotion. It was no apology, but… Jack nodded his acceptance all the same. He let his left hand slip from his staff and rolled the tension out of his shoulders. Nothing more needed to be said. The space between them felt heavy with a shared, chest-aching loneliness that Jack didn’t particularly want to touch. Not right now.
He was glad Bunny didn’t seem to want to either. Drawing closer, expression lit up with an easy-going smile, Bunny scuffed his arm with a light punch.
‘You can’t go getting complacent is all. Things are different now, in ways I figure you haven’t thought too much about given everything that’s happened.’
‘You mean the whole disappearing thing?’ Jack asked, eyes narrowing. He smirked and turned away, a breath of a laugh escaping around his next word. ‘Yeah. Been there, done that.’
There was a thud of a hop, and then Jack found himself being spun back around again. He tried to resist the terse grip on his arms, but Bunny only clutched harder, his expression grave in his seriousness.
‘No, mate. No, you haven’t. You saw what happened to me. To North, and Tooth as well. You don’t just disappear to the kids. You lose everything about yourself. Namely, your power. Your strength. And as for Sandy… We’re lucky we got him back at all. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?’
Jack felt Bunny’s nails nick through the fabric of his hoodie to press against his skin. His eyes were wide, and wrought, and starting to look a little watery.
‘If you don’t maintain the belief you have or earn anymore, you could disappear for real.’
His expression softened with his paws and Jack took the opportunity to shrug himself free. He dusted at his upper arms in turn, then re-secured his grip on his staff, pointing with the crooked end.
‘Oh, you wish, cottontail. Don’t worry. I’ll still be around next Easter to throw you a few surprises.’ He swung his staff over his shoulder and meandered towards the hatch’s square-shaped light ray. ‘And the one after that, and the one after that…’
He turned in time to catch Bunny’s concern stiffen into indignation.
‘What, you think this is some kind of competition? Didn’t you learn anything? How about you do what you do, and let me do what I do, and -’
Jack couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Bunny,’ he cut in, palms up in an attempt to soothe. ‘Relax. I’m only having a little fun.’
The face-scrunching and fist-clenching he got in return proved that some things, like the freezing and thawing of some parts of the globe every year, really didn’t ever change.
‘Yeah, well.’ Bunny’s scowl finally loosened with the rolling of his eyes. ‘You’ll have to let me know how that works out for you.’ He then tapped the floor with his foot until a tunnel hole yawned into existence. ‘After all, you know where to find me. And North,’ he quickly added. ‘Or any of us. We’re all in this together, mate. Don’t you forget it.’
He stepped into his tunnel, and after the ground swallowed him up, a single, blooming flower sprouted out of the floorboards. Jack approached, leaning down to pluck the stem free. As he held the purple petals closer in admiration, they began to curl up and wither. Frost-touched.
Jack sighed, and tossed the flower aside. He winced as more banging and shouting met him from the workshop. North’s dismay echoed indecipherably around the whir and trill of toys still being tested.
There was pressure on all of them now...
It wasn’t like he was unprepared when he agreed to be a Guardian… Pitch had already told him about the reality of it. Jack twirled his staff in his fingers like a baton before grasping it in both hands. Bracing himself, he tried once more to summon the sparkling ice he’d once been able to strike Pitch down with, aiming for the hatch in the roof. It was a trick he had always been able to do, just never at that scale.
Not before…
There was a crackle. The staff seemed to rear and fight against him, but the blast that left the crooked end fell short of its target before exploding into ice dust and snowflakes. They fell around him in a slow drift, charging the air with a barely-there chill.
…Or since.
With one last look over his shoulder, Jack willed himself aloft, and left the Pole through the hatch.
