Hey guys !
Back with a new story. This one is a complete AU, crossover of How to Train your Dragon and Rise of the Guardians.
Characters from both movies belong to Cressida Crowell, William Joyce and Dreamworks Animation Studios. I don't own these characters, only the story.
Warning : boy love, lot of angst. Rated T for violence and trauma.
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Chapter 1
All alone
''-a--, I'm scared...''
The words were echoing in his head, crystal clear, a faint echo following the high pitched voice of a little girl. The voice sounded so familiar it was making a dull pain blooming in his chest.
He knew it was not just a dream, it was memories. Anchored in his mind, as deep as sap in a tree. Every night, it was coming back to haunt him. Even if he was able to fight back the images, he could still perfectly see the little girl's face, and the terror adorning it back then.
''I know, I know...'' His own voice soothed, trying to reassure her despite his own fright.
A faint crackle sound echoed inside of his head, as if he was nothing but an empty cave where the sound was boucing on the walls and warping over and over again.
His eyes opened in a jolt and he quickly sat up, panting and sweating as if he had been running, a dull pain throbbing in the middle of his chest. He pressed his cold hands there, hoping to numb it. Slowly folding on himself, he started to rock his own body. Tears rolled down his cheeks while he was still fighting back the memories and catching his breath, but he knew it wouldn't calm down soon enough.
In the middle of his turmoil, he still found solace. Since his voice was stuck in his tight throat, he hadn't made any sound and had not disturbed the other persons liviing in the house.
Still hugging himself and focusing all his might to calm down his panting, he took a quick glance towards the window and noticed it was dawn. A soft pinkish glowing was spreading over the trees and lighting up the dirt path linking the farm to the rest of the village. Birds were chirping outside, sheep bleating, raindrops falling from the roof, in front of the window.
It had rained during the night, again. The teenage boy stared at the raindrops and took the time to count them, setting his breathing on this calm rythm. That's what helped him to finally calm down.
He took one last deep breath before pushing away his blanket, dragging his lithe frame out of the bed's warmth. He really was not impressive. His silhouette may look tall and slender, but it was only a trick of the eye. If his limbs looked long, it was because they were skinny. Bony, even. It was even more visible due to the long nightgown he was dressed in, too large for him. The sleeves were falling over his hands and were so large he could have easily fitted three arms inside. The collar had the tendancy to slip on his shoulders.
Resting his bare feet on the cold wooden floor, he let the chill run up to his knees and reverb along his back. It was nice for him, it helped him wake up properly. After yawning and stretching, he pulled off his nightgown and went to search for other clothes. Heading towards the chest in which he kept his belongings, he walked next to the mirror but averted his eyes from it.
Seeing his pale and bony frame from the corner of his eye was already too much for him, so he quickly rummaged in his clothes and put on the first ones he caught. The beige tunic was floating a bit but appart from that, it was fitting him. The bottom of the dark brown pants was ripped, making him sigh. He was convinced he had already sewed that back two days prior, unless it was other trousers ? He only had three, but they were identical, so it was easy to mistake them.
He decided to ignore this and instead ran his hands in his hair to brush them. He was only doing this for his personal comfort, since he would spend his day hiding them under a hood, like usual.
Once satisfied with his hair, he grabbed the brown cape hanging behind his door and quickly put it on, pulling the hood over his head, before stepping outside of his bedroom. The warm air in the corridor mugged him, instantly he started to sweat and felt the urge to leave the house. But before that, he had to face them.
He forced himself not to look at the closed door located in front of his own and headed to the old wooden stairs. The steps didn't even creak under his poor weight, he climbed down and hoped to reach the living-room without being noticed, but he was.
There was a woman sitting in a rocking-chair next to the fireplace, knitting a new shawl. This one was white and seemed already half-finished. The woman had a slightly tanned skin, her ovale face and thin lips making her look soft and kind. She was humming a song while the fire was drawing reddish highlights on her chestnut short hair.
The teen remained still in front of the stairs, silently staring at her, marvelling at the small smile on her lips. It had been so long since he had seen her smile, and he had dearly missed it. But once she spotted him, the smile disappeared, and she blenched. Stopping her kniting, she tensed and became nervous, barely able to look at him.
''O-Oh, it's you.'' She stuttered, ''You scared me. Do you need something ?''
The boy lowered his head and quickly averted his eyes. He knew it was unsettling for her to meet his eyes, but it was hard for him not to look at her. He missed the warmth of her hazel eyes, and the kindness of her gaze.
Instead of speaking, he replied with a shy nod of his head, saying 'no'. From the corner of his eye, he saw the woman moving like she was about to get up, but she changed her mind and settled back in her chair, going back to knitting without a word. Footsteps could be heard from the other side, forcing the boy to hold his breath. He glanced to his right and saw a pair of dark boots stopping a few steps away from him.
''Everything's alright, honey ?'' A throaty voice asked.
''Of course, dear.'' The woman replied with a much warmer voice.
''Hum'' was all the brown-haired man said back.
He nodded and looked back to the smaller hodded figure down the stairs. Both remained still, not looking directly at the other, tensed. The man was quite bulky, his brown shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing toned and hairy forearms, foresaying all the work he was doing at the farm. He cleared his throat and made a gesture towards the front door.
''You can go now. The sheep are in the pen, as usual you have to bring them back at sunset.''
The boy gave a large nod so he could be seen under his hood. He mentally thanked the piece of clothing to hide his face because he knew his eyes were puffy from crying in the night and the morning. His nose was itching as if he was going to tear up again.
Not giving himself time to shed any other tear, he rushed to the door, grabbing on his way the shepherd crook resting next to the door, along with the piece of bread left there for him. He was in such a hurry he didn't took gloves nore shoes, but it didn't matter. What mattered was leaving this house as soon as possible.
He let out a long sigh when the door closed behind him, but the tears were still blooming in his eyes. Once, this house had been just the best place in the world for him. But it was before the accident. Everything went down since then. Now, the only comfort the young teen could find was spending his days outside in the mountain, bringing the sheep to the grazing. Away from the village, away from those he once called his friends, away from those he once called his parents.
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The wind was blowing softly over the moutain snow, carrying a crisp ocean breeze with it. The wind didn't know boundaries nore limits. Despite the obstacles, it went on and raced endlessly, freely.
Wrapped up under his cape, squeezing the hood around his face and neck, the boy was staring at a few leaves soaring in the gale. He had stopped to watch them swirl, wondering how far the wind could carry them, wondering what it would feel like to float like this. He secretly wished to become one of these leaves so he could fly away, far away from his problems.
He came out of his reverie as he heard a sheep bleat next to him, so he quickly focused back on the herd he had to look after. Instinctively, he searched for each of them and counted them out. He would have troubles if he ever lost even one of them. When he reached fifteen, he sighed in relief. They were all there. Some had gone a bit farther, but they still were all gathered on the green path. No wonder, despite their whool, the sheep were pretty skittish and didn't like spending too much time in the snow, unlike the boy.
He could walk barefeet in snow without being cold, without frostbites. His pale skin would only slightly turn blue but he would not feel the cold. It could be handy during winter, when he had to work at the farm despite the harsh cold.
The boy sat on a log so he could keep an eye on the herd, absentmindedly staring at the whoolen beasts and the landscape. The chilly mountain air always used to lift his spirits up, giving him the feeling he could escape from this life he had come to dread. Up there, he could imagine having another life, being another person.
Right in this moment, without evidence to say otherwise, he could imagine going back at night to a warm home, his parents smiling and hugging him, asking him how was his day and congratulating him for his hard work. He could imagine his little sister asking him to play with her or telling her a story by the fireplace. He could imagine the neighbours visiting and sharing diner with them. He could imagine his house filled with laughter and good mood...
''Hey, look ! That's the White !''
The boy abruptedly came back to his senses as he heard this voice, and steps coming closer. He turned his head to spot a group of five teens slightly older than himself. Recognizing them, he worried.
It was Franc, the chief's son, and his friends. The three boys and two girls were all bulky and strong despite their young age. One of them was working to prepare and become chief while the others trained hard so they could fight back invaders later on.
The hooded teen stood by reflex as they came closer, but even standing he remained shorter than four of them. Soon, they circled him.
''What are you doin' here ?'' Franc teased, ''are you planning to trigger an avalanche upon the village ?''
The others snickered while the boy tensed. He wondered if it was a good idea to talk back to them, still he wanted to defend himself rather than let them accuse him.
''I'm keeping my father's sheep.''
''Your father ? Ha ! You must be the last one to think you're still his son.''
When Franc nodded to the taller and bulkier guy of the group, said guy stepped in with a glare and grabbed the boy's hood to pull it down, and reveal the unusual appearance that ruined his life. Unlike all the others who had tanned skin, hair going from dark chestnut to jet black and dark eyes, the boy was very pale, eyes blue like glacier and, above all, his hair was pure white, as if sculpted from snow.
As soon as his face was uncovered, the boy struggled and tried to replace his hood, but Franc blew his fist in his skinny belly, making him drop on his knees. The teens laughed at the display, making fun of his pain.
''You're not a boy, you're just a anomaly. You better have drowned in that pond with the brat !''
A sob escaped the boy, earning him nothing but more sneers.
''Oh, is the baby gonna cry ?''
''What a maggot, seriously.''
''Looser.''
''Huh... guys ?'' A much shyer voice asked.
All the teens turned to the shorter girl of the group, and shyer one. She was nervously piking at her own fingers, her body trembling.
''Don't you think we should leave him alone ? I mean...''
The white-haired boy couldn't believe his ears. Was he dreaming ? Was someone really caring about him ?
He gritted his teeth while keeping his arms wrapped around his aching middle, trying to lift his head and look at the girl, but all his hopes died as he saw nothing but fear on her face.
''We could get in trouble.'' She added, ''he's gonna curse us or something.''
''So what ? Are you scared ?'' The taller snorted.
''I don't want to wake up with frostbites or loosing a limb due to the cold ! What if all the village gets sick because of him ?! What if he unleashes a snowstorm on us ?! Have you thought about that ?!''
''She's right, Franc.'' The other girl hesitated.
''Pff. If you're that scared, then leave. Bruno, you stay with me.''
The taller boy, Bruno, simply nodded before he turned back to the pale boy on the ground. The other three didn't waste time to flee.
''Back to business, the Cursed.''
Bruno snickered and kicked the boy in the ribs, stealing his breath away and paralyzing his whole body. The boy could have hoped his pain would have stopped the bullies, but that only prompted them to continue. Blow after blow fell upon the skinny boy, his ears ringing with the chief's son laughter.
He couldn't do anything but withstand it in silence. It was not the first time these teens came to beat him up, and it would certainly not be the last time. Among all the people feeding his bad reputation, Franc was one of the worst. If most of the village didn't dare to go after him for fear of a curse, Franc was convinced they had to get rid of him as soon as possible. If the white-haired boy was allowed to stay, it was only because the actual chief was afraid of a curse too.
But the boy was not happy to stay. What's the point in being allowed to stay if it was to be shunned and cast away ? Everyone was giving him looks, if they dared looking at him at all. He was blamed for evry incident at the village, even those he had no power upon. The milk spoiled ? It's because the White came too close to the cows. Someone got sick ? The White touched them. A fox broke into the hen and killed all the chicken ? The White wanted revenge from the owners. He had even been blamed for the snowstorm which struck the village and destroyed half of it.
Even his own parents couldn't look at him in the eye nore treat him as a son anymore. Barely as a human, more like a creature they were afraid of. And the worst part of it all was his name. He had had a name, before, given by loving parents. But it had fallen into oblivion since the accident that turned him into... this. Now, he was only called with these horrid nicknames. The Anomaly, the White, the Cursed. White the Cursed.
All that because he had not drowned in the pond with his little sister, that day. Both children had been playing on the frozen body of water, ice-skating, until the ice cracked. The boy had tried to save his sister, bring her back towards the shore where she would have been safe, but the ice had not handled both their weight, and both had fallen in. In the midst of winter, the water was that cold people didn't have the time to drown, because they were freezing to death first.
The boy remembered clearly the feeling of cold bitting and eating his skin, his body, his lungs. He remembered the feeling of dying. It was haunting him at night, dreadful nightmares bringing him back in dark waters, next to the lifeless body of the one he had most cherished in his life. The one he had vowed to protect... and failed.
Maybe this was why he had survived, why his chestnut hair had turned snow white, his chocolate brown eyes turned ice blue, why his body became as cold as if he was hypothermic.
Maybe the villagers were right, after all ? Maybe he did was cursed ? Maybe it was his punishment for not saving his little sister ?