Of the Northmost Winds and Skies

Jack Frost Catches a Cold

Jack built a castle once. Not a real castle, of course – even with his powers, he thought that might be impossible. No, he'd built a small model of a castle, complete with towers and a wall surrounding it, made from small pieces of wood and rusty nails he'd found by chance on the ground.

And with the image of the castle followed several more indistinct images, sounds and sensations. He could see his sister smiling at him from the other side of the miniature castle, awe in her big brown eyes. She'd helped building, but for the most part just enjoyed watching Jack's handiwork, even if he wasn't very experienced or anything like that. He could hear her voice, telling him stories about who lived in this castle and what happened in the kingdom it loomed over; her laugh, giggling whenever Jack accidentally hammered his thumbs; her yawns, because it was very early and most of the village was still fast asleep.

As for sensations, the most vivid thing he could feel was the wind against his face, caressing him softly from where they sat upon a hill in Hawthorne. From there, they could watch as life gradually sprang to life in their village, the sun rising above the trees and birds flying in and out of their nests. Jack held his aching fingers up in the air and imagined that the wind passing by healed the painful thumping. Definitely no handyman, that was for sure.

"Why do you do that?" Emily asked, raising her hands to copy Jack.

Jack, who knew Emily was just trying to make him admit that he'd hurt himself in the process of making the castle, just smiled lopsidedly, closing his eyes. "I like the wind," he said. "We're good friends, the wind and I."

Emily snorted. "What are you talking about?" she laughed. "That wasn't what you said last week, when the wind almost pulled the roof off our house."

"It can't always be this gentle," Jack said matter-of-factly. "It has emotions just like we do."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yeah." It wasn't really a lie; the wind having a mind of its own was an idea that Jack had had since he was a little kid. He didn't know why, but the thought was always there and always had been. Part of him thought that it was a bit ridiculous, but the wind was as real as any gods he'd ever heard about, so why not? He opened his eyes and looked at Emily when she didn't answer, before letting out a deep, content sigh. He stretched his arms out even more, as if waiting for an embrace. "Besides, it's kinda nice when it's not as gentle as well. Maybe one day it'll whisk me away and teach me how to fly. Like a leaf."

Emily frowned skeptically but copied his pose even so. "Isn't that dangerous?" she asked.

"What's life without a little danger?" Jack asked back.

"That does sound like something you would say," Emily pointed out, and Jack laughed.

"I am starting to recognize that look."

Jack blinked, lifting his gaze from the ice castle on North's desk. North was looking back at him with a fond expression. He had a miniature hammer in one hand and a chisel in the other. His castle was a whole lot more impressive than what Jack had made back then. Watching him chop away on his various ice projects was something Jack had realized was more captivating than he had first given it credit for. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there now, just watching, not speaking.

It took a few seconds before Jack realized he should probably answer, but by then, North had already turned in his seat and was giving Jack an inquisitive look.

"You remembered something?" he asked.

Jack felt a smile pull at his lips. "Not sure if I like how good you're getting at reading me, North," he told him, twirling his staff in his hand. He hopped down from the table he was sitting on. "But yeah. I remembered something."