Believe

Burly arms tattooed NAUGHTY and NICE faced the crackling ice.

"You were passed out on streets of Santiago!"

Yetis were barely attentive to their work, tiny elves clustering near for warmth.

"I was sleeping!"

Large iridescent wings buzzed ceaselessly, little faeries following them left, right, and left again.

"You didn't wake up when Sandy found you!"

Little hands tucked under a chin, usual smile absent.

"I was tired!"

And, just now entering the room, green eyes took in the scene.

"Oy, ease up mates, some of us are behind the times."

Nicholas St. North's mouth twitched.  Jack Frost watched warily as the man breathed in deeply.  Blue eyes closed, head tilted back, barrel chest expanded.  Then he breathed back out, thick white beard settling over his chest.  Eyes opened again under heavy black eyebrows and fixed purposefully upon the newcomer.  A smile was brought out.  "Bunny!"  Then the Russian had passed by the teen, and the bipedal jackrabbit was engulfed in a bear hug, long grey ears twitching behind the white head.

Jack snorted.  "Father North was giving himself a heart att-" the winter spirit stopped as a hand settled on his shoulder, and looked up into Toothiana's violet eyes.  The smiling Guardian of Memories hovered beside him, small body covered with green feathers fading into blue at her extremities and yellow at her neck, leaving only her face and hands uncovered.  Another movement, and he looked to his left, meeting Sandy's quiet smile.  Jack sighed, and flopped down onto one of the huge red chairs of Santa's lounge.

"Father North, hmm?"  Stroking his beard, the Guardian of Wonder tilted his head back towards the teen.

E. Aster Bunnymund chuckled, checking his leather shoulder strap to see if the coloured egg bombs across his chest had been disrupted.  "It suits you."  Reassuring himself as to the lie of the twin boomerangs at his back, his eyes flicked to the youngest.  "Especially when we're talking about the icicle.  And d'you mind the clearing up the slip hazard, mate?"

"Jump over it, Kangaroo," Jack flipped back.  The Tooth Fairy had settled on the right arm of his chair, her blue skirt of plumes draping over it, and the winter spirit firmly kept his gaze locked on the crown of feathers that grew above her face.  Tall blue ones grew behind a shorter crop of green ones, one long yellow plume the centerpiece.  Little green feathers continued spreading over her forehead, following the curve of her eyes and sneaking halfway down her nose.  There were also little golden plumes hanging at the sides of her head like earrings.  And incredibly fine pink highlights at the corners of her eyes.

Unexpectedly, blue irises met violet, and both hastily twitched away.

Running his eyes over the room, Jack spotted Sandy sitting to his left.  The spirit looked back, smile holding something more than just his usual joviality.  Santa and the Easter Bunny were still standing behind the teen's seat.  Apparently, the pooka had been getting his debriefing, as the winter spirit could hear North's Russian accent finishing the account of dream sand urging him to Santiago where he carried an unconscious teen back through the snow globe portal.  Jack winced.

As the last strains of the story finished, the two came into the lounge.  Bunnymund walked between Jack and North, navy tribal patterns on his longer blue-grey fur giving way to shorter white on his stomach and feet.  Jack resisted the urge to freeze the little grey cotton tail as it went by.  

The frost had evaporated from the wooden floor, and bells jingled from the tips of pointy little hats as elves bore in trays of cookies, candy, and eggnog for the guests.  Below, in the main workshop, industrious yetis returned to working on the toys of Wonder.  Whizzes, hammers, and bells overlaid the large creatures' grumbling language, the sounds reaching the lounge from beyond the wooden handrail that North and Aster had been standing nearby.

Bunnymund claimed the large loveseat to Jack's right, spreading his arms out over the top, leather wrist guards rubbing against the red fabric.  North picked the seat opposite Jack, cheerfully claiming an entire cookie platter for himself.  He rested it against his belly, where the textured band of his red sweater met his baggy black sweatpants.  Then he looked up across the oval table.  "Tooth!  Do you not need seat?"

Toothiana looked up from where she was gazing with dismay at the sweet treats Jack was collecting.  "Oh, no, thank you.  Your seats are too big for me."  Her mini faeries chirped in agreement from where they were settled on Jack.  The Tooth Fairy blinked at them, then hastily started to drink the eggnog she was holding.  To her left, Sandman was happily downing his own cup.

Their host shrugged at the answer, munching on a cookie.  Blue eyes settled on the large paws crossed against the table, leather straps wrapped around the middle of them.  He frowned, pointedly stamping knitted socks against the floor.  Aster ignored him; rabbit legs didn't comfortably bend much further.

Sighing, North took another cookie.  "So, Jack!"  His tone was jovial, but Jack's eyes flicked away, looking instead at the crochet patterns, vibrant toys, and even the burning fireplace behind North.  The red man's smile slipped, Tooth and Sandy looking between them in concern.  Then the Guardian of Wonder rallied again, rubbing his hands together.  "So, you want to see the south, no?  It can be done.  Yes, most certainly can be done."

Surprised, Jack met the elder's eyes.  North smiled, nodding his encouragement.  The teen looked at him for a moment, then grinned, tucking his staff underneath his chin and leaning forward attentively.  Tooth and Sandy settled back again, Bunnymund simply taking in the exchange, having missed most of the argument.

"What you need," the big man thought for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, "is stretch a bit less."   He considered that statement, then nodded and brought his gaze back down to meet Jack's blank look.  Santa burst out laughing.  "Jack!  You brought full inch of snow to Santiago in one hour!  Very good, but couldn't chew what you'd bitten off, no?"  Father North smiled at his protégé.  "Take smaller bites, and chew well."

Chin still leaning on his staff, Jack kept his gaze on North.  "So…" he said, carefully drawing the word out, "can I go back now?"

North sighed.

---

It was a full three days before North felt the younger spirit had achieved a good grasp of the importance of not overexerting himself in hot climates.  Now, Jack stood on a hill outside the front entrance of Santa's Workshop, trying not to look smug as he gazed upon the remnants of his blizzard.

North's black fur hat and ankle-length red coat, also heavily trimmed with fur, stood out amongst his white- and brown-furred yetis as they shoveled out the door.  Jack had his own metal-bladed shovel stuck in the snow beside him, but he had managed to plead tired muscles.  Not a hard feat; Jack's arms were about the same width as his wrists.

Dusk came, and with it a little golden man on a cloud.  Jack whooped; "Australia?!"  Sandman nodded, grinning at his friend's excitement.  North chuckled too, black boots crunching in the snow and open coat swaying as he walked over.

The biplane appeared again, and Jack hopped in, donning his goggles.  North called to him, "Remember, when you make snow-"

"Keep it slow, and let it build up."

"At night-"

"Take time to recover."

"And you come back-"

"In a week at the most to cool off."

"And you plan to follow advice?"

Jack laughed and gave a thumbs-up.  "I'm not getting carried back this time, dad!"

---

"What happened, mates?  Got lost?"  Aster demanded as Jack hopped out onto the pooka's self-proclaimed homeland.

"I wanted to see something," Jack replied airily, wandering past Bunnymund to look at the sun risen over the south of the mainland.

"Kangaroos," the Easter Bunny asserted.

"Yeah…" Jack sighed.  He'd known the spirit would guess it.  "They don't quite look like you."  Bunnymund's ear flicked, recognizing the victory.  "So…when did Pitch cut your tail off?"

---

Flurries descended on the first week of May, surprisingly consistent for the autumn.  Bunnymund sniffed at them.  "Good to see you taking advice, but this is almost like you've lost your nerve, Frostbite."

Jack laughed.  "This is just to cool off the ground.  Wait till you see tomorrow, Cottontail."

Temperatures dropped that night, Boreas gaining a firm foothold.  Jack breathed in, watching the sky turn pink.  Then the snow started to fall.

Bunnymund looked down from their hill.  "You don't seem to have many fans here, mate," he said.  People were peering out of doorways, frowning upon the thickly falling flakes piling upon the ground.

"Those are just the adults.  Wait until you see the kids," Jack replied.

The adults continued to bustle around their homes, probably listening to their radio weather reports.  Aster stomped his feet on the ground to improve blood flow, arms crossed for warm.  Jack laughed.  "You know, you'd be warmer if you were moving," he said.  Then he started running down the slope, kicking off as small bundled figures hopped out onto the streets.

As expected, the children took to the snow immediately.  Snowmen were already in the making as the spirit of winter blew in his charmed snowflakes to summon them to the park.  Jack did a loop of the surrounding neighbourhoods; the more, the merrier!  Then he swung into the central area.

Bunnymund was standing there, smirking at the teen.  Cheering excitedly, the children gathered around him, the Easter Bunny not in the habit of letting himself be spotted even on his own holiday.  The Guardian of Hope flattened his ears at all the attention, then perked them up again.  He was on a mission.  

Aster stooped down closer to his admirers.  "Alright, you little ankle biters," he said, "this snow was brought by a…special friend.  Think you can give him a snow war he'll remember?"

Another cheer went up, and Bunnymund stood, balling snow in his paws.  Jack laughed.  "Snow forts first, Cottontail!  You can't have a war without a bunker!"

---

The two spirits called the war a draw.  The younger could have scored more hits, but the pooka had been the favoured target of almost all the children in the park; the spirit known as Jack Frost was invisible to them.  A few had even walked through him, his stomach twisting uncomfortably each time.

Bunnymund returned to his Warren that night even as excited children regaled their obliging parents with their tale.  Snowplows cleared the solid foot of snow off the streets, Jack not bothering to replace it.  According to Aster, the second term of school didn't begin until the fifteenth.

The winter spirit leaned on his staff and let out a breath.  He could feel that the first week of May was not normally this cold.  The south wind had been brushing up against Boreas all day, though it had been nudged back up to where it could blow harmlessly each time.  Even if it did manage to descend, it would be days before enough snow was melted to bother Jack.   The teen grinned and rubbed his hands together, ready for tomorrow.

The third day was for tobogganing.  A light snowfall preceded the sledders, presenting a pristine hill.  Laughing, they ran up, slid down, and ran up again.  Soon, they discovered that the snow was shallow on the southern side of the hill, giving them easy access to the top so that they could slide back down the thickly blanketed eastern side.  There, loose snow was gusted over what had been packed down by the toboggans, presenting the pristine slope anew.

The wind behaved even more strangely just north of where the sledders were staging their fun.  The snow there formed circular furrows and sometimes kicked straight up, if anyone had been bothering to look.

Jack smiled as another toboggan went down the slope with a cry of joy.  He spun again, dragging his toes through the snow, letting it pile up before flicking it off again.  The smallest power to leave his mark upon the world around him, brought about by the belief of a few hundred children.

Then the teen sighed, looking over to the figures gathered around the hill.  None of them returned his gaze.  He kicked the snow again, wishing Aster hadn't left.  Just someone to laugh with, instead of laughing by himself while everyone else laughed together.

The winter spirit snorted.  He would just wait these Aussies out until they started believing in him.  He had centuries of experience of being invisible and having fun.  Centuries; three of them.  Hundreds.   Of years.  Experience.  He whispered it to himself, staring blankly out over the snow. Three hundred years to get one person to believe in him.  What if the south didn't want to believe in him?  How long would it take this time?

Tears pricked at his eyes, and Jack jerked his head back from the sensation.  Swallowing, he laughed shakily.  "I'm Jack Frost, Guardian of Fun," he whispered, "I won't be forgotten."  He swallowed again.  Tilted his head up towards the sun.  Smiled.  "More importantly," he said, "I'm going to have fun."

From deeper within, another laugh came, and Jack Frost spun around towards the tobogganer about to take his turn.  Short and squat, he carefully lined up his ride and pushed off.  He slid down the slope with a shout, the flaps of his Russian-style hat flipping back from the wind.  The smooth ride picked up speed, flying straight and true.  Then he hit a curved ice formation.

Yelps of surprise came from above as the blue jacket took a sharp left.  Then a right back down the slope, sliding faster.  Left as he hit the field.  Right along the top of the lake.  Then left down the bank.  The other kids shouted in alarm.  But the ice held on impact, and he shot across.  Finally fetching up against the opposite bank, a perfectly formed snowball was dislodged.  It rolled down into his hand.

A winter spirit kicked off to hunt down another tobogganer as the kid sat up, his friends running down the hill.  I am Jack Frost; want to play a game?

---

Jack explored the surrounding towns and cities too, though it wasn't easy.  The south wind was insisting that these places weren't meant for snow and it persisted despite the teen's counter insistence that it could buzz off for a week.  Bunnymund had said that there were ski fields to the east that would welcome snow, but the spirit didn't want to go there.  Ski resorts had children channel their fun only into skiing.  It was when kids let their imaginations run wild…that they could start believing.

So Jack explored, bringing snow and laughter wherever he went.  Occasionally, children would pause and tilt their heads, glimpsing something out of the corners of their eyes.  They were catching on quickly, perhaps because it was the wrong season for a Christmas miracle, perhaps because he had a new, solidity thanks to his northern believers.  The thought buoyed him, and, laughing, he ducked away from the Aussies' searching looks, tempting them into games of hide-and-seek.  And they played.

Then the sun was setting on the seventh day.  Sprawled out in the snow, Jack watched it, Boreas playing with his hair, and eyes lingering closed before opening again.  Gold appeared at the corner of his vision.  Jack shook his hood off and smiled brightly at Sandy.   "You know, it's going to be a while -" the plane appeared, Sandy turning his goggled face towards the teen.  "…Bunny told you not to listen?"  His friend smiled apologetically.

Jack sighed.  He really needed to sell the other guardians on the concept that snow would keep him cool until it melted.  "Just hang on for a few minutes.  I want to see someone before I leave."  Sandy nodded, pulling back the dream sand that brought sleep as the winter spirit kicked off towards the city of Sale.

Familiar with his destination, Jack was soon floating outside a window.  Isabelle Taylor, 9, was preparing for bed.  Her skin was slightly tanned, testament to her love of playing.  She had persisted the most in the games of hide-and-seek, her brown eyes reminding the spirit of Jamie.

Hand against the window, Jack hesitated.  He had only ever made one frost creation.  Thinking back, he wasn't entirely sure how he'd done it.  Maybe he should just toss a snowball instead?  No, he'd wanted to give her this gift, and he would figure out a way to do it.

Iz looked up at the sound of frost crackling along her window, staring with wide eyes at the intricate patterns it made.  Then the image was floating and turning towards her.  Each snowflake is unique, and this one is yours.  The blue creation broke apart, snow falling within the room.  The human and the spirit laughed, eyes meeting for the first time.  The white haired boy waved, and kicked away.  I'll be back, Iz, Australia.  Just…not right away.

---

Review Questions

How was the pacing of the descriptions when I was introducing North, Tooth, and Bunny?

How well written was North's accent?
    If it didn't sound right, do you have tips on how to write it?


How was Jack's momentary dip into melancholy?
    Did it seem authentic?


Cheers,
Redemmo