Chapter Text
One job.
Jack had one job.
It was as if he was Murphy’s law personified. He didn’t even know how he managed to mess up such a simple trap in every way possible. Looking back to a few hours ago, even armed with the knowledge of what he just did, he still couldn’t spot his error, still couldn’t quite comprehend the moment his plan crumbled into a mistake.
Right here and now, all he understood was this:
After a month of tracking Pitch’s magical trail inside the fog of the Archipelago’s stealth-enhancing nature, after weeks of memorizing his preferred regions and preparing an ambush, after days building up his energy and of being so damn sure that he knew what to do, after unleashing an actual full-fledged blizzard– he’d not only failed to catch the bastard, but he had failed to realize that the trail wasn’t even Pitch’s to begin with!
Shadows and fear cling to the Nightmare King’s spirit, so naturally Jack decided to try and track an entity which had strong traces of terror and darkness in their nature, be it through experience or abilities (to which Pitch had plenty of both).
When he heard an echoing roar in the distance, a sound that tangled in the spiraling waves of the Wind that swirled his storm into something akin to a giant hurricane, he thought it was the furious screams of an enraged Pitch.
He didn’t expect an honest-to-God dragon.
Jack flew through the downpour of snow and ice, slicing his way through his own magical chaos with less ease and more struggle than he wanted to have. He kept the grip on his staff tight, his expression even tighter as he watched the dot of a black shifting mass down below, a figure that stood out starkly against the ocean of white around them.
Got you, he had thought at first, seeing the dark colors of night and fear reflected back at him and immediately assuming a success.
It took him way, way, wayyyy too long to realize it wasn’t Pitch.
He had swung his staff and called out to the roaring Wind that refused to settle until his friend’s mission was over.
“Keep him down!” Jack ordered, slowly beginning his descent. He glared, thinking to himself. You’re not getting away this time.
Only once he got closer to the ground did he hear something else.
It was a voice, young and nasal and genuine in ways that were most definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, not Pitch’s.
“C-c’mon, bud… it’s okay! It’s okay, c-calm down– we’ll get through this, we just g-gotta… find…!”
From this smaller distance, Jack finally managed to see that the massive shadow wasn’t the Boogeyman.
The massive shadow was a dragon. An actual real-life dragon, just like the ones North and Sandy warned Jack might encounter during his exploration here. He hadn’t encountered any before this, most of his time spent at the top of mountains in a semi-conscious state similar to meditation in the ‘sit still, clear your mind and focus’ aspect.
He scoured the Archipelago daily for Pitch’s hidden energy using his own. Or rather, using the energy from the Archipelago’s winter, one he was quickly forming a stronger connection with the longer he remained.
The creature was beautiful…
But he didn’t have time to be awed by its majestic nature.
Beside the dragon, shielded by its stiff and frosted wings was the man who must’ve spoken a few seconds before. He was very young, couldn’t be older than nineteen or twenty, wearing a head of brown hair (that was almost entirely covered by clinging snow) and the greenest, widest, most terrified eyes Jack had ever seen.
He could barely take in the other’s appearance before the boy closed his eyes and crumbled. The dragon roared again, though this time the sound hitched, the change in its resounding cry making it sound terribly hopeless and desperate. Only a second later it crumbled down into the floor just like its human friend.
For the first time in centuries, Jack felt himself go cold.
“W-wind…” he whispered, his voice weak and lost somewhere in the visage of a collapsing human and desperate dragon.
Jack propelled forward to get to the ground as quickly as he could, falling into a harsh ten-inches-deep landing as he stumbled through the snow towards the two figures that laid nearly frozen a few yards away.
“Wind stop– stop!”
It took five painfully long seconds before the Wind heard and processed his words, dispelling itself, the blizzard-almost-hurricane calming into delicately falling flakes that Jack couldn’t magic away in his current state of mind.
He rushed forward, leaping into a two-second flight to cut distance, and if he had a beating heart he was sure it would’ve stopped by now.
“Oh no,” he mumbled, finally reaching the two. “No, no, no…”
The dragon was much, much bigger up close, yet still smaller than what he expected. It laid on its side, eyes closed and black scales smooth and scattered with thin cuts caused by ice. The unconscious boy was wrapped within its arms now (claws? Legs? What did dragons have for limbs?), not bleeding or visibly injured but terrifying pale and progressively blue. Snow that was already accumulating over them earlier continued to swallow them whole, even faster now.
Jack swallowed down nothing and ignored the agonizing dryness of his throat. With a trembling wave of his hand he cut away the energy he’d accidentally continued to push out, and the snow stopped entirely.
As the storm fully faded away, a vast plane of fallen frost and ice dawned into view, fog circling around the horizon and melting the grey sky with the white endless ground together into one liminal blur.
He stared at his victims. Because that’s exactly what they were, and he wouldn’t lie to himself. He hurt them, accident or not.
What did you do? said a voice in his head, one that sounded a suspicious amount to the man that was supposed to be frozen here instead.
Jack’s face fell into his hand and he groaned, and groaned, and groaned some more so that he wouldn’t cry or shout or scream.
“Fuck,” he whimpered, sliding it down and shifting his grip on his staff. He had to do something about this, now, before his mistake became irreversible.
The Wind breezed past, brushing his hair and pushing a lot of the snow off the other two. It was both an apology and quiet support.
Jack shook his head, walking forward and waving his staff, melting away as much snow as he could as he gently pried the boy away from the hopefully-just-asleep dragon. He’d have to find some cave later, somehow start a fire, and then just pray that everything would work out fine for the both of them. Maybe Manny would help if he asked really, really, really nicely. He was the one specifically picked for this after all.
Specifically picked for this and yet here we are.
Yeah… maybe the Moon wouldn’t help him after all. He himself would admit he didn’t deserve it.
But– but these people did. If not for him, maybe for them.
“It’s not your fault,” he told the Wind, who continued to curl around him in guilt-filled sadness and attempted comfort.
It was true.
Even when his powers were considerably weaker during the day, which it currently was, he was the one who set this up and pulled the trigger so to speak. No matter how much help he received from the Wind, this was, with complete certainty, a hundred percent Jack’s fault.
At this point he just hoped he wouldn’t have to call the Guardians to fix his mistake. He didn’t think he’d be able to take their disappointment and anger. Or worse, their unearned sympathy and kindness.
Hiccup felt strangely warm.
‘Strangely’ because, different from the sensation of sitting by a crackling fireplace or letting the glowing sunshine wash down his skin, this warmth didn’t exactly feel like it had a specific source.
He was just warm, very warm, but not to an uncomfortable amount. A strangely comforting amount, which was weirder. This wasn’t fever warmth, or lukewarm air, it felt like an embrace, like he was coddled and wrapped with blankets he couldn’t touch, but the strangest part of it all was that instead of feeling safe and at home he felt very, very, very off.
Whatever this warmth was, it didn’t feel natural. It was invisible and intangible cloth, liquid heat that dispersed into air, brushing across every inch of his skin like a finely tuned breeze that was woven into perfect silk meant to enclose and envelop.
For some reason, his mind was surprised that he didn’t feel cold.
…cold.
Flying back to Berk after a private morning drill, a sudden storm by a flat island with the clearest and sunniest sky, the worsening snow, the wind, Toothless’s roar, the fall the fall the fall, a yell, a voice, a blue white and brown something (a boy it was a boy he could swear it was a boy but how…) flying in the sky in the midst of the blizzard, and then the cold the cold the cold the cold and then nothing but black black black as the ice seemed to sink into his skin–
Hiccup’s heart suddenly spiked and his eyes snapped open with a gasp, adrenaline that had been cut off rushing through him, regained consciousness breaking the dam his collapse created.
Toothless was right behind him, still asleep, body rising and falling with every long evened breath, his eyes closed and tail curling them both into a nest. Hiccup took comfort in it, one hand over his chest and the other on Toothless. He tried to match his breathing as he looked around, trying to figure out where he was. They were in a glacier cavern composed of thick walls of ice, the opening not at the side but rather diagonally up at the end of a very steep but not impossible to walk/climb slope.
Outside at the center of the night sky the full moon beamed down in a powerful glow, flooding down the only source of light they had like a silver cascade.
Big but thin blankets made of the weirdest wool ever were thrown over them both.
Hiccup could tell that these strange things weren’t what had kept them warm (it was clearly not made for this type of weather), but no matter how hard he studied the actual material he couldn’t pin down just where this weird blanket came from. It was clearly a blanket, soft and nice, but the texture wasn’t quite wool, not any kind he knew at least, and it definitely wasn’t fur.
He wasn’t sure if he ever saw any place create something like this.
Oh, whatever.
A steadily panicked thud thud thud of his heart pounded between his ears, a headache already throbbing in his skull.
“Ugh,” he groaned, bringing his hands up to his face.
A voice from nowhere suddenly spoke– were they talking to themselves or him?– saying something he didn’t catch and Hiccup jolted with a surprised yell, hands snatching the blanket closer as his head snapped to the side.
What he saw next made his hammering heart stop.
There was a boy sitting with his legs crossed on the opposite end of the cave, looking at him with an equally surprised and startled expression. He held a wooden stick/staff with a crooked end with both his hands, body weight leaning into it as he tilted his head. The moon shone down at him, haloing the boy’s glistening white hair and outlining his deathly pale face and almost blue lips in that silver glow.
Patterns of frost grew from where he sat, the nearest inches of where his hands gripped the staff more frozen compared to the rest of the wood. Particles of glowing flakes orbited around him, twinkling in and out of existence.
Even at a glance, he looked otherworldly.
– then there was a touch, a drag as something cold grabbed him, tugged at him, carried him, and he could suddenly see a boy with the bluest eyes, and he flew, they both flew, the sky and starts passing in a flurried dance and the wind carrying them the same way Toothless would, carrying Toothless himself with equal ease, but Hiccup was too dizzy too cold too tired to understand, and he didn’t understand, he didn’t understand, he didn’t understand, and the world dissolved to black again…
In the dark, Hiccup could still tell this boy had the clearest icy blue eyes he had ever seen.
A silent beat passed, then two.
Everything crashed down all at once and his lungs squeezed in a thin, tight gasp that locked in his throat.
The boy- no, the being– stared at him as if it couldn’t believe what it saw, too-human eyes growing wider and wider every second that passed and Hiccup didn’t look away from its gaze.
It suddenly stood up and Hiccup was too locked in place to twitch, much less back away, but it didn’t move that much closer, only a step.
The hazy memory of the Being and its– his– its– his?– staff in the storm was all too fresh in his brain. Whoever, whatever this was, it created that blizzard. He didn’t know how he knew for sure, but he just did. Forget the untrustworthy evidence from his hypothermic-driven memories, something inside of him screamed that this was the case.
It said something, a question judging by the tone of his voice, a question in a language Hiccup didn’t understand.
Fey language, an insane yet somehow applicable part of his mind said. Or whatever it is you are.
But the fey didn’t control the weather.
Only the gods could.
…wait.
Hiccup’s chest went cold (yet as soon as that thought passed a part of him noticed how his body still, despite having left the blanket, felt unnaturally warm).
Was this boy a god?
The idea came, and he had to hold back a morbidly exasperated deadpan expression. Because of course. Of course. Only he could somehow get mixed up with an actual god. Who else would manage to piss one off enough for a blizzard to erupt in the middle of summer?!
He almost wanted to laugh. But he didn’t, because that might actually be suicide.
And hey, maybe the reason he couldn’t understand what he said was because his mind wasn’t made to comprehend it.
That was the only answer possible, actually, if he really thought about it.
Reality settled in. His humor faded.
Panic flared.
Hiccup immediately shot himself down into a kneel.
That boy was staring at him way too much for it to be a coincidence. It took him a solid second to understand what that meant.
“You- you can see me?” Jack asked once he got to his feet, more shocked than happy thanks to current circumstances.
If this were anyone and anywhere else he’d be thrilled (never before did a grown up actually see him after all!), but this wasn’t the right person, or the right place, and he struggled to feel anything more than pure unfiltered surprise. He supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised over this, though. North mentioned that the Archipelago was different when it came to this type of stuff.
Still, it was a novel thing to be seen so easily.
…Not that it was a particularly good thing right now.
Barely a moment passed before the boy abruptly rushed down into a kneel, practically falling and clanking his knees against the icy ground, visibly shaking head to toe.
Jack made a surprise sound at the back of his throat, free hand extended and just kinda hovering in the air as he took a small step back, unsure of what to do.
“Uhm,” he started, but then stopped.
This boy wouldn’t understand any English, and although he could understand Norse just fine thanks to Manny’s influence with the whole Guardians package (protecting all children requires you to understand all children, no matter the place or time), speaking it was an entirely separate skill that Guardians weren’t exactly required to be able to do in order to bring joy to the kids. Most didn’t even see children all that often, caring and protecting from afar.
He failed to ignore the churn of guilt in his gut.
Manny, with the help from the Wind, was keeping the boy warm, so he knew the tremble couldn’t be anything but fear.
Jack had glared at Pitch that Easter, shaking his head at his proposal already.
“No, they’ll fear both of us. That’s not what I want.”
Yeah he messed this up.
Oh, he messed this up really bad.
He struggled to find his voice, the same level of struggle that the other was clearly having himself. He cleared his throat. The boy looked up, and oh, he looked terrified. He looked absolutely petrified.
Jack raised his hand placatingly, trying to offer a comforting smile.
That didn’t do much to calm the boy down.
“...I’m sorry,” Jack tried to say in Norse, remembering the words and hoping that his accent wasn’t too thick to understand. He wasn’t sure what particular part he was apologizing for. Sorry for almost killing you? For scaring you half to death?? Sorry for mistaking you and your dragon for a spirit of terror???
He gestured at himself, then at the general area of the cave. “Uhm. Safe.”
The boy was still staring at him with wide, wide eyes, but at least now they looked less about-to-have-a-heart-attack level of horror, and more what-in-the-world-is-going-on level of scared.
Jack continued to give an easy smile, hoping that it would help it if he himself looked more calm. He leaned on his staff, giving a dramatic bow.
“Well, since you’re here and all, best make the most of it yeah? The name’s Jack,” he said in English because he didn’t remember how to say it in norse, emphasizing his name to drive the point home. He looked back over to the other, grinning. “Jack… Frost… Jack Frost. Me. That’s my name. You get it?”
Introductions, apparently, were the wrong thing to do with the dragon world’s Vikings.
The boy actually choked on air, face beginning to turn as pale as he was when Jack first found him in the blizzard.
“J… J-Jokul Frosti?” he said, voice thinning, and although the nordic accent was thick Jack could easily recognize his name in there.
Trying to keep the mood as light as possible, he offered a brighter grin, nodding profusely and giving a big thumbs up. “Yup, that’s right, you got it! Aaaand you?” He pointed at Hiccup, leaning forward a bit.
It seemed his words fell on deaf ears for a moment, because Boy did nothing but stare and stare until Jack began to almost miss being invisible. Eventually he snapped out of it, the meaning behind Jack’s gestures finally processing. Unfortunately he bowed again, practically laying half his body flat on the floor since he was sitting, and ohhh that made all the wrong sorts of twists in Jack’s stomach.
“H-hiccup, uhm, sir…?”
“Hiccup,” repeated Jack, happy to have something to call the other. Hiccup flinched as soon as he said the name though, which in turn made Jack flinch a little as well. “Hey, I won't… I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Hiccup stopped bowing, thank goodness, but only so that he could look up with a look that was awkwardly apologetic.
“I’m sorry, uh, Lord Jokul Frosti, I can’t… I can’t really…” began Hiccup, gesturing vaguely in the air.
Jack cut in and shook his head, hopefully in an assuring manner. “Understand me? I know, I know.”
Well, this was going to be complicated.
He frowned, looking around and pacing a bit, trying to figure out what to do. He ignored how Hiccup was growing stiffer and stiffer the longer he remained silent, a fact that wasn’t helping him think at all.
Then like a light bulb an idea lit up in his head, and Jack turned back to Hiccup with a grin.
Sandy had sand to speak, so why couldn’t he just use snow? He did it before with Jamie anyway, except he didn’t need to make as much of a show this time.
He waved his hand and the thin layer of snow that sat inside the cavern (somehow this place was the emptiest, warmest one he managed to find) drifted across the ground, spiraling into glittering shapes and drawings.
It was Hiccup and his dragon. It wasn’t beautiful by any means, very cartoony as was his style, but clear enough to send a message. They were flying again, a bright smile on Hiccup’s face, and Jack tried to make the dragon look as healthy and fast as possible.
You’ll be okay, you’ll fly away in no time. I won’t hurt, only help.
Hiccup gasped, and for the first time it wasn’t a gasp of fear or shock. Or well, not a bad kind of shock anyway, only in awed surprise.
Jack felt his grin widen, and he chuckled.
Maybe he could make it a bit of a show.
He stepped forward and felt an unreasonable amount of joy at the fact that Hiccup didn’t move away or freeze this time, too transfixed by the shifting flakes. Jack sat down and moved his hand across the air in a horizontal line, the drawings shifting again.
How could he put an apology and an assurance in a drawing?
Aaaand he was screwed again.
Jack liked to sketch in the snow quite a lot, don’t get him wrong, but he was no artist. Kinda hard to become good at expressing ideas or thoughts into images when for so long, there was nobody to express those thoughts to.
He wanted to let Hiccup and his dragon go home, where they would both be safe and healthy and fed.
Two out of three of those things were a little too abstract of ideas for him to draw.
Alright, food drawings it was.
He nodded to himself, sparing a glance at Hiccup who was watching him with all of his attention, gaze focused with startlingly intense concentration. It was as if every movement of his was being locked in and memorized. Jack’s stomach did a flip. Oh, that was an expression he wasn’t used to getting.
He gave a smile, and his stomach flipped again when the smile was actually returned. It was a small, hesitant and wobbly thing, but it was there.
Yeah! Don’t be afraid of me, this is way better!
Jack turned back to the snow with renewed vigor and moved his hands.
It shifted and swayed once more, and he quickly did a rough drawing of him, holding a plate full of food and goodies. He was giving it to Hiccup, and behind him was his also happy dragon, and behind his dragon were a bunch of stick-figure drawings of houses to symbolize his village. In the sky was a sun, radiating and large.
We’re getting you home, and you’ll be warm again, and have all the food, and you’ll be fine.
When Jack looked back up at Hiccup, he was ready to jump up with a victorious cry at seeing the determined expression that befell him. Hiccup was stern, his brows furrowed, but he wasn’t scared anymore. Tense? Yes, but that was way better than before, and now that he seemed to get Jack’s intentions, he was way more willing to calm down.
Hiccup turned to Jack, and the hair of his neck stood straight when those striking green eyes fixed right into his gaze.
The other nodded.
“I-I… I understand, now.”
Oh, this was great!
Jack grinned, joy beaming from him in waves. There was still quite a bit of tension in Hiccup’s tentative smile, in his posture and his voice, but this was enough.
He glanced at the snow and shifted the drawing into Toothless and Hiccup flying again, getting to his feet.
“You should go,” said Jack, and then pointed at the Moon. “Like, right now. It’s been hours already since you two got here. Manny will only be able to help you with the cold while it's night– daytime it'll be way colder if you end up falling into another winter spirit’s domain, trust me.”
Hiccup obviously didn’t understand any of that, but he looked at the drawing and then looked at the moon, something in him visibly stirring as soon as Jack said Manny. He wasn’t sure if the people in this world were aware of the Man in Moon, it felt odd that they wouldn’t, but before he could ask Hiccup had looked at Jack again and nodded. He patted down his clothes and turned to his dragon, and once Jack looked over at it he felt a shiver run down his back.
It was awake, and it was standing with its wings half-drawn, pupils narrowed as it watched Jack impassively. It wasn’t snarling or visibly hostile, but definitely cautious to say the least. He could only wonder how long that creature had been awake for. He didn’t even hear anything or notice a shift until he directed his whole attention from Hiccup to where the dragon was once sleeping.
Despite the Moon’s shine it was still dark, and the dragon’s healed scales blended with this darkness perfectly, only his glowing green eyes– as green as Hiccup’s, Jack couldn’t help but notice– were so much as barely visible against the moonlight.
Jack couldn’t help but feel like his mistake was a little more justified, now.
Darkness and terror he’d tracked indeed.
Hiccup raised a hand, running it down the dragon’s face. It closed its eyes and leaned into his hand, head dipping closer to his stomach with the same fluidity of a cat.
“Hey bud, we’re okay…” he said with a small, weak laugh, audibly still a bit shaken. He looked back at Jack, expression tightening slightly, as if expecting something. Unsure what he was looking for, Jack simply nodded. Hiccup visibly relaxed, bowing his head. “T… thank you, uhm, sir.”
He had no idea what the hell this guy was thanking him for.
“Sure thing, any time.” Jack said nonetheless with a smile, and he waved, leaning onto his staff. Sure, nobody could understand him, but people could still read tone in this world yeah?
Then he realized that Hiccup was leaving without the blankets.
Jack’s eyes widened and he stepped forward with a small “uhhh” sound, but before he could even say hey wait Hiccup had already stepped about three feet away from his dragon.
“Y-yeah?” Hiccup asked, voice breaking a pitch as all that tension from beforehand tripled. “Don’t worry, uhm, sir, it’s gonna be done, it will, everything will be ready, uh, I promise–”
Jack didn’t even want to try and unpack what this guy was saying (he needed to brush up his Norse with North or Tooth or someone ASAP, he must be misunderstanding things) and walked forward, grabbing Jamie’s blanket.
When he told the kid he’d have to stop visiting for a while for the mission, Jamie gave him the blanket immediately as a parting gift, even though he didn’t feel the cold or had any particular need for it. It was a precious gift, but he had wronged Hiccup greatly. He deserved a proper apology, and he needed a way to stay warm way more than him. Wind and Manny wouldn’t be keeping the cold at bay forever, that much he was sure of.
“Oh,” said Hiccup once he locked in the blanket he’d offered, and Jack hoped that it was just the lack of light that made him look a little green. “Oh, right, sure, of course.”
He let out a laugh, one that was too loud for the conversation to not be a nervous tick. Hiccup cleared his throat, immediately grabbing the blanket with a trembling hand as he bowed again.
The whole bowing thing was getting really old really fast.
“Thank you so much for this gift, sir, it’s uh, it’s an honor, I apologize for forgetting it– n-not that I would forget something from you, of course, this is wonderful, and great, and thank you. I’m- I’m not really good at this, sorry about that, I never thought…”
What?
“Uhm, any– anyway, know that this will be treasured, and sacred, and all that important stuff and thank you again, and- and the offerings will be prepared by tomorrow night, I swear, I promise, uhm, yeah, thanks, that’s all, yeah.”
…What???
Before Jack could say anything Hiccup suddenly straightened up, looking two seconds away from a heart attack. Without missing another beat he grabbed the dragon’s (named Bud, if Jack could remember it properly) saddle and settled on top of it with one fluid motion.
Bud was glaring daggers into Jack’s soul with those green eyes it had, wings raised and tail tense.
“O-okay! Great! Good talk, yeah? A-awesome,” said Hiccup, sounding like he wanted to simply die on the spot the more he talked. He pet the dragon’s head. “Yup, let’s… let’s get outta here, bud.”
The cave was large enough that Bud could spread out its wings wide, and with one massive wave they flew up and out through the cave’s mouth, gliding up the entire slope with a single strong beat.
Jack almost stumbled back as the onslaught of wind slammed against him, but used to the Wind misbehaving he did nothing but let out a startled laugh, half his mind swimming in confusion from those last ten seconds of conversation.
“Uh, bye, Hiccup!” he cried out with one last wave, even though both the dragon and his rider were long gone.
He stared up at the exit for a few seconds longer, gazing at the white and overbearing presence of the Moon.
Yeah, they left alright.
Well.
That was certainly a conversation he had.
Typically having conversations was something he celebrated, but this time he couldn’t help but feel a bit upset(?)/confused(?)/frustrated(?) about this particular interaction.
“...Wind?”
The familiar breeze wrapped itself around him.
Jack said he would help, and he would. His blizzard may have lingered more distantly, there’s only so much he can control after the magic is out already after all, and he needed to ensure that this wouldn’t be a problem.
“Make sure they get there safe. I need to clear up some clouds.”
After a beat, he shifted his staff to the other hand.
“And to brush up on some Norse. Think North’s available?”