sakon76

Tutelary 3
by K. Stonham
first released 21st January, 2013

Force of Nature

Jack Frost was a force of nature. Literally. Once - just once - Jamie saw his arrival in Burgess from the start. He'd been leaving school when his eyes caught on a small dark speck in the northern sky. He'd stopped and watched, wondering what it was, as it plummeted to Earth.

Then it levelled out, soaring, and came close enough that he could make out a stick held out in one hand. Jamie's heart had soared, and he'd grabbed Claude, pointing excitedly until his friend saw Jack too. They were in seventh grade now, but all of their group still believed in Jack and the Guardians.

"Yeah, it's Jack!" Claude cheered, and waved, though Jack was so far away he couldn't possibly have seen them.

"You know what this means," Cupcake said from Jamie's other side.

"Yeah." Jamie zipped up his corduroy jacket, grinning. "Snow day!"

Within minutes, the temperature dropped ten degrees. Frost came streaking down the sidewalk in front of them, followed by wind and the first few snowflakes of the season. Jamie opened his mouth and tried to catch one.

He succeeded, and closed his mouth happily, feeling the cold meltwater on his tongue.

"Hey, now, who's that eating my snowflakes?" a voice asked.

Jamie spun around, looking up.

Jack stood on the edge of the school roof, looking down at them. "Jack!" Monty cheered.

"Hmm, let me think," Jack said. "Nope, I'm not eating snowflakes."

Grinning, Caleb elbowed Jamie. "That would be Jamie."

"Indeed." Jack knelt. "So, how'd it taste, kiddo?"

Jamie grinned. "Like winter!"

Jack smiled and stood again. "Your wish, is my command." He jumped off the roof, spinning, and by the time his feet touched the ground, snow was falling thick all over the neighborhood.

"You know it's not supposed to snow until the weekend," Pippa told him. But she was smiling.

Jack smiled back at her. "Since when can the weatherman predict the weather?" he quipped. "So. You guys been good in my absence? Getting all straight As, helping little old ladies cross the street, that kind of thing?"

"Hardly," said Cupcake.

Jack grinned fit to split his face. "That's my gang. So, what're we up to today?"

Jamie shrugged his heavy backpack, which felt like it was stuffed with every textbook he had. "First, dropping stuff at our houses. Then...?" He looked at his friends.

Caleb whooped. "I say sledding!"

"Yeah!" Monty thrust a fist into the air.

"Sledding it is. Meet you guys at the hill?" Jack asked. Ha barely waited for their replies before taking to the air again.

By the time they got home, Jamie knew, downtown would have icicles hanging from every eave. By the time they'd grabbed hats and gloves and sleds, Jack would have the hill and the woods powder-white. By the time they got there, it would be perfect, and he would be waiting.

Grinning, Jamie ran for home.

* * *

Slay vs. Sleigh

The winter wind howled outside, but the boys attending the twelfth birthday slumber party ignored it. The twins' parents had retreated upstairs, leaving the boys the run of downstairs, including the kitchen and the all-important living room, with its television. The hour ticked over to midnight as the boys laughed, threw popcorn at one another, and shivered at the movies they were watching.

Jamie, his sleeping bag laid out in front of the sofa, blinked slowly, and rolled over onto his back. His eyes drifted closed. Unaccustomed to the witching hour, his thoughts tumbled over one another like blocks, falling into a scattered mess. He'd only been awake this late once, and that night... that night....

Jamie remembered the man with the red coat. Nicholas St. North, they called him. The Demon of the Cossacks. He had pillaged and burned his way through villages uncounted, before he had turned his eyes to magic, and become truly unstoppable. He had a flying vehicle, named The Slay, drawn by demon reindeer. His coat, they said, was dyed in the blood of naughty children. Mothers kept their children close, especially in winter, and sent them to bed as soon as the sun went down. He would not take a child sleeping in its bed. Only the naughty ones. Only the ones who were awake too late at night.

Scarier, though, was the pooka. He was a giant rabbit, with razor-sharp buck teeth and claws that scratched. He could tell if anyone had ever had a rabbit's paw luck charm. So could everyone else, after. The body parts were always arranged the same way. The pooka's fur was gray and black shadows; he skulked in the woods in the springtime, waiting for the unwary. The children he took were never heard from again; only their vanishing scream gave a clue to their fate. No one knew what he did with them. No one wanted to imagine it.

The Tooth Faery was slightly better. So long as she was given her tithe of teeth on time, no one got hurt. Her palace, they said, was built of the teeth, all shining and pearly white, until you looked closer and saw the dried rust of blood and gums she preferred. Parents came after their children with pliers, to keep her Fae appeased. If they weren't, they would take the children flying high up into the sky, then just... let them go.

The Sandman, though, was the most horrifying. His sand crept into bedrooms at night, unseen, unstoppable, and wore away childrens' dreams. It scratched and abraded, and the only way you knew he'd been there was by the grit in your eyes the next morning. He stole the dreams for himself, kept them, they said, in little hourglasses in his castle. And when your hourglass was filled, you would turn into an empty vacant-eyed adult. You wouldn't have any dreams ever again--

Jamie woke with a gasp, the Sandman hovering right over him.

Terrified, Jamie shrank back.

Sandman stopped, looking taken aback. Then he raised a hand, as if to say wait, and vanished.

Before Jamie could even calm his breathing, he was back. Right behind him was--

"Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?" Jack Frost knelt next to Jamie. "You're worrying Sandy."

For a long minute, Jamie shrank away. Then his hand shot out and grabbed Jack's.

Jack was... cold. But not frozen. His skin was pink instead of blue.

"Bad dream?" Jack asked sympathetically.

Jamie nodded, and surged forward, burying himself in the older boy's sweatshirt. It wasn't real, none of it was real, the Guardians weren't like that....

Jack's hand smoothed his hair. "See, this is why your mom doesn't let you watch horror movies," he said. Wordless, Jamie nodded again.

The television flared and turned off, the looping title page of the DVD going silent mid-scream. Jamie glanced out of Jack's arms to see Sandman with the remote in hand, frowning at the television. None of the pile of sleeping boys on the floor woke to notice either him or Jack.

"You okay yet?" Jack asked quietly.

Still holding on, Jamie shook his head.

"Hmm." Jack shifted until he was leaning back against the sofa, one arm still around Jamie. "You go ahead, Sandy. I'll catch up later."

The Guardian of Dreams nodded, bowed to Jamie, and hied off through a window.

"So, you want to tell me what your bad dream was about?"

Jamie swallowed. "You were all evil," he whispered hoarsely.

"Heh. That does sound pretty terrible," Jack admitted. "Was Pitch the good guy in this dream?"

"I didn't get that far." A thought occurred to Jamie; he twisted his neck to look up into Jack's eyes. "Pitch didn't give me this dream, did he?"

Jack shook his head. "Nah, not a nightmare or fearling in sight. It all came from your own subconscious." He gave a gentle rap at the side of Jamie's head.

"You're sure, Jack?"

The Guardian smiled. "Not every bad dream comes from him, you know. Any more than Sandy gives you every good dream, or the only fun on Earth comes from me. We just kind of enhance the experience, and make sure kids get what they need when they need it."

"Mmm." Jamie snuggled into Jack, who was quite comfy despite being all bony and cold. "What were you and Sandy doing here?"

"Me? Spreading some winter weather so the twins get a snow day tomorrow for my belated birthday present. Sandy was doing his usual rounds."

Jamie's eyelids were getting heavy again. "Stay until I go to sleep?"

"For you, kiddo? Of course."

Jamie closed his eyes, rocked by the rise and fall of Jack's chest as he breathed. Outside, the wind had stopped; the quality of the silence gave away that snow was falling, probably heavily. The night was quiet, and free of monsters.

Safe in the arms of his favorite Guardian, Jamie drifted back asleep.

*~*~*

Author's Note: Jamie is, I think, something like thirteen and twelve respectively in these stories. The second one in particular has a genesis: I have read two too many stories that relied on spellcheck instead of brains. North's vehicle is NOT a "slay." It is a "sleigh." There is a hugehuge difference between these two homonyms. So I wrote out the only possible circumstance in which that mix-up makes sense: a nightmarish mirrorverse.