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Chapter Text

Cheers and music filled the bustling town square, blending with the laughter of children and the soft crunch of snow underfoot. Warm cider mugs and buzzing champagne softened the bite of the winter air, while fairy lights crisscrossed overhead, shimmering like constellations.

Fireworks boomed faintly in the distance, their bursts of color illuminating the smiles of loved ones. Friends laughed and sang, couples swayed near the center of the square, and children darted between the crowd, waving sparklers like tiny beacons of light.

At the edge of it all, a young boy sat on the stone steps of the fountain, bundled tightly in a thick coat and scarf. A leatherbound notebook rested on his lap, its worn edges hinting at countless moments of quiet thought. He tapped a pencil against the side of his glasses, his gaze fixed on the blank page before him.

Then, something golden and faint filled his eye—a delicate shimmer, like the soft flickers of a sparkler, dancing across his vision.

Furrowing his brow picked up the pencil again, gripping it tightly as if emboldened. Slowly, he began to write, his shaky hand growing steadier with each stroke. The pencil scratched across the page with newfound confidence, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. 

“This year, I will be braver,” he wrote, the words glinting softly like the distant light of stars. “Make new friends. Help my sister more.”

As the letters shimmered across the page, tiny sparks danced along the lines, as though the words themselves held a touch of magic. The boy froze, his eyes widening in awe. Then, a gap-toothed smile broke across his face, lighting it up with pure delight.

Not too far, near the center of the square, an older sister stood with arms crossed tightly against the winter chill. She stared up at the fireworks bursting overhead, their vibrant colors reflecting in her wide eyes. A few feet away, her younger brother shifted awkwardly, his hands jammed deep into his coat pockets. The space between them felt heavy and wider than what it was, filled with words unsaid, caught in the back of the throat and stubbornly refusing to come out. 

A firework exploded in the sky, scattering gold and silver sparks that seemed to hang for just a moment too long. The silver sparkled in her eyes, glancing towards her brother, she realized how small he looked, hunched against the cold.  

Her chest tightened. We used to watch this together every year, she thought, the realization hitting her harder than she expected. What happened to that?

The spark in her eyes seemed to catch, igniting something deep within her. Without letting herself hesitate, she nudged him with her elbow.

“Hey,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “How about we go play a prank on Ol’ Johnson after this? Just us.”

Her brother blinked, startled by the offer. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, warming the air between them. “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “I’d like that.”

Overhead, another firework exploded, its light scattering like tiny stars, unnoticed as the siblings turned toward each other, the distance between them shrinking with every step.

The faint, rhythmic hum of excitement began to ripple through the crowd—a low, melodic tone that built into a crescendo, mingling with the laughter and cheers below. The energy of the square shifted as the clock neared midnight.

“Thirty seconds!” someone called, their voice cutting through the celebratory buzz. People began to gather closer, friends pulling one another into huddled circles, couples intertwining fingers, and parents hoisting children onto their shoulders for a better view.

The girl turned to her brother again, her grin mirroring his now. “Let’s not miss the countdown,” she said, gesturing toward the crowd moving toward the square’s center.

He nodded, following her into the thick of the celebration, their steps in sync for the first time in years. Around them, the crowd’s excitement swelled, the hum becoming a chant as the seconds ticked closer to midnight.

A faint, rhythmic hum begins—a low, melodic tone that builds into a crescendo, mingling with the celebration below. 

High above, unseen by the crowd, a mysterious figure stood perched upon the clock tower. The faint, rhythmic hum resonated from her meteor hammer as it spun above her head, casting faint ripples of light into the night. For just a fleeting second, the figure became visible—a woman cloaked in the shimmering glow of starlight, her silhouette radiant against the dark sky.

With a deliberate motion, she twirled the hammer in a wide arc, releasing a cascade of sparks across the rooftop.

Her dance began. Graceful yet powerful, her movements were a mesmerizing display of control and elegance. The meteor hammer spun and arced as if alive, releasing bursts of miniature fireworks with every swing. The sparks spiraled into the night, eager to paint the sky with dazzling patterns of stars and galaxies. 

The hum from the figure’s spinning hammer intensified, rising into a melodic crescendo that seemed to vibrate through the air. The fireworks above grew more intricate, forming constellations and shifting shapes that shimmered like celestial art.

“Seven... six... five...”

Golden tendrils of light unfurled from the hammer, cascading outward in waves. The magic rippled through the crowd, weaving between families, friends, and strangers, touching each person with warmth, courage, and the unshakable hope of new beginnings.

“Four... three...”

The figure—a woman cloaked in starlight—swung her hammer in a wide, sweeping arc. Her brown skin glowed softly in the golden light as her flowing gown shimmered like the night sky, threaded with streaks of silver and gold. The wide brim of her hat tilted slightly as she moved, the delicate glittering fabric trailing behind her like a comet’s tail.

“Two... one...”

As the clock struck midnight, her magic erupted in an explosion of brilliance. Fireworks burst into dazzling shapes—shimmering constellations, blooming flowers, and cascading stars—dancing across the night sky in intricate patterns. A massive bloom of golden starlight exploded above the square, cascading in radiant waves that hung in the air like Sandman’s shimmering dreams. The entire square was bathed in its glow, the golden light reflecting off the awestruck faces below.

Near the edge of the square, a nervous couple stood close but not quite touching. The boy shifted his weight from foot to foot, glancing shyly at the girl beside him, her face turned toward the fireworks. Golden sparks rained down around them, lighting her soft smile as she caught him staring.

She tilted her head slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “What is it?”

“I—uh...” He faltered, his words lost in the brilliance of the moment. But as the light cascaded over them, his hesitation melted.

“Happy New Year,” he said quickly, leaning in.

“Happy New Year,” she replied, meeting him halfway.

Their lips brushed in a tentative, sweet kiss, the world around them fading for a heartbeat. The fireworks above exploded into a vibrant heart-shaped bloom, unnoticed by anyone but the two of them.

On the clock tower, the figure laughed in delight, the sound a bright, melodic counterpoint to the crowd’s cheers. Her coily hair framed her glowing face, bouncing with every fluid movement as she twirled her meteor hammer. The slit of her gown revealed long, powerful strides as she spun, the fabric shimmering like the night sky, woven with streaks of gold and silver that seemed to move like shooting stars. The corset hugging her torso glittered with faint, glowing patterns of hourglasses and swirling galaxies, cinching her silhouette into an elegant, celestial frame.

The crowd below erupted in chaotic celebration. Cheers mixed with gasps of awe as people pointed upward at the ethereal shapes blooming in the sky—spirals of light morphing into phoenixes, dancing figures, and cosmic swirls. Strangers embraced, friends held each other tightly, and couples leaned in for kisses under the dazzling display.

Fireworks technicians, huddled near their launch stations, exchanged baffled looks. “Did we do that?” one muttered, glancing nervously at their setup. Another shook their head, eyes wide. “Not even close.”

The melody of Auld Lang Syne rose through the square, carried by hundreds of voices joining in unison. The crowd’s awe morphed into jubilation as they swayed together, singing, laughing, and shouting their resolutions into the glowing night.

The woman atop the clock tower spun her meteor hammer in precise, deliberate arcs, the heavy, glowing weight at its end trailing golden light as it whipped through the air. With a powerful motion, she swung it low, the chain extending with a soft hum before snapping upward in a tight spiral. The weight burst into a cascade of fireworks shaped like unfurling ribbons, their glowing ends dissolving into trails of shimmering sparkles that rained down over the square.

With a fluid twist of her body, she reversed the hammer’s motion, pulling it close before spinning it overhead in tight, controlled circles. The rhythmic hum of the chain harmonized with the cheers rising from the crowd. Another sharp motion sent the weight streaking outward in a wide arc, releasing bursts of light that exploded into constellations and cascading stars, painting the sky in radiant patterns.

The woman’s movements were powerful yet graceful, each swing a calculated mix of strength and elegance. As she twisted her wrist, the hammer obeyed her commands, moving like an extension of herself. With one final sweep, she brought it down in a broad arc, sending a massive wave of golden light into the sky. The explosion of fireworks above the square ignited the crowd into a frenzy of cheers, their energy surging to a fever pitch as they marveled at the dazzling display.

From her perch, the glow of her work reflected in her eyes as she prepared for her final move.

She paused, her silhouette framed against the shimmering sky, the wide brim of her hat casting a shadow over her glowing, satisfied smile. With a flick of her wrist, she spun her hammer once more, stepping into the sparkling trail of light she had created. Her coily hair framed her glowing face as she laughed again, her voice light and triumphant.

And then with a smirk, she vanished into the golden glow, leaving behind the echoes of her laughter and the brilliant shapes in the sky that slowly faded, as if reluctant to disappear.

Below, the crowd erupted again, their voices carrying into the night, marking the start of a year they would never forget.

The golden glow faded, the remnants of the fireworks shimmering like the final flicker of a candle. The square erupted with laughter and cheers, but high above, the clock tower remained bathed in a quiet, otherworldly glow.

The moonlight, soft and knowing, traced its way down the clock tower’s ancient face, casting a silvery beam where the magic had begun. For a fleeting moment, the light seemed to dance across the clock’s hands, as though blessing the new year with its silent approval.

Thousands of miles away, on the rolling cliffs of Étretat, the woman appeared again. Below her, the quaint town indulged in its own celebration, the festivities winding down as the night inched toward dawn.

Her gaze fell on a young boy and girl reluctantly leaving the square, their heads tilted skyward, eyes searching the heavens with hopeful anticipation. With a smirk, she swung her meteor hammer lazily at her side. “Can’t leave you hanging now, can I?”

With a sharp tap of her boot, the hammer’s weight shot upward, releasing a cascade of fireworks. The display blossomed into a kaleidoscope of swirling ribbons and crackling stars, lighting up the cliffs and ocean in a symphony of gold and silver. The children below froze, their faces breaking into awe-filled grins as they screamed and pointed at the sky.

“Man, I love this job,” she laughed, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as the last burst of fireworks cascaded into the night sky.

Humming softly, she reached for her meteor hammer, giving it a casual twirl before slinging it over her shoulder. With practiced ease, the glowing chain coiled snugly around her waist, each link adorned with star-shaped charms and delicate fireworks motifs that caught the light as they settled into place.

The hammer itself, now dormant, nestled against her corset, blending seamlessly with her outfit. The corset’s sleek design mimicked the shape of an hourglass, cinched with metallic accents that pulsed faintly like the rhythm of ticking time. Gold and silver details swirled elegantly along its surface, forming intricate patterns that seemed to shimmer with every movement she made. Tiny hourglass charms dangled subtly along the edges, swaying gently as she shifted her stance.

She gave the hammer’s weight a playful pat, the decorative piece perfectly camouflaged as part of her ensemble. 

“Who says you can’t be fashionable and functional?” she mused, smirking to herself. 

She plopped down at the edge of the cliffs, her toned legs dangling lazily over the side. The stiletto-buckled boots on her feet glinted faintly in the moonlight, locked confidently at her ankles. “Oof, Mama needs a nap,” she groaned, rubbing her lower back.

Just as she exhaled, savoring the moment’s peace, a high-pitched whistle cut through the air, followed by a loud POP-POP-CRACKLE! She didn’t flinch, merely tilting her head as a fiery, spinning streak zipped past her face, its sparks fizzling out just before it hit the ground nearby.

The object rolled to a stop in front of her, trembling slightly, its red-and-gold-striped body crackling faintly like a spent firecracker.

“Oh, you again,” she muttered with a smirk, setting her hat aside as she leaned forward. The spherical creature righted itself, bouncing on the spot, tiny sparking limbs poking out from its sides.

“Topper,” she said, crossing her arms with mock sternness. The little firecracker crackled indignantly, spinning its body like a top before shooting a small burst of sparks into the air.

“Don’t you ‘fireworks display’ me,” she teased. “You nearly blew up my favorite boots.”

Topper hopped closer, his crackling body fizzing excitedly as he tipped upward, revealing a glowing, flickering fuse on top of his head. The tiny firecracker emitted a series of pops and hisses, his form practically vibrating with energy. 

Sighing, she reached down to give him a gently tap with her fingers. “Alright, alright, what’s got you so riled up? What’s the report on the others?”  

Topper spun rapidly, his sparks forming a fiery arc in the air. A series of tiny firework bursts followed, arranging themselves into shapes and symbols—a glowing globe that spun slowly, its surface dotted with tiny points of light that flickered like stars.

Each dot flared briefly, revealing glimpses of other firecracker-like creatures. One zipped through a bustling carnival in Rio, leaving streaks of brilliant gold in its wake. Another skipped playfully across the icy tundra of Siberia, its trails shimmering with frosty sparks that danced in the cold.

She chuckled, one brow arching as she crossed her arms. “Look at y’all. Out here showin’ off like it’s the Olympics. What y’all been up to, huh? Lighting up the whole world for me?”

Topper bounced higher, releasing a crackling burst of light in response. His sparks mimicked the bloom of a bursting firework before he fizzed impatiently, spinning in place.

“Boy, I ain’t got time for all this dramatic buildup. Spit it out,” she teased, tapping her foot against the ground.

The glowing globe dissolved, replaced by a golden hourglass, its sand trickling down with an urgent glow.

She tilted her head, her lips pulling into a smirk. “Time’s tickin’, huh? Why y’all always gotta rush me?” Adjusting her wide-brimmed hat, she let out a playful sigh. “Alright, alright. Guess the party ain’t over yet.”

Topper crackled again, zipping forward and leaving a glowing trail in the air that pointed eastward. He paused to turn back, his sparks popping brightly as if to say, Hurry up!

“Oh, your feeling real bold tonight,” she said, pointing at him with mock sternness. “Actin’ like you my boss or somethin’. Don’t forget who runs this show.”

Swinging her meteor hammer in a slow, practiced arc, she secured it neatly at her side, the chain wrapping tightly around her waist. “But I ain’t gonna lie,” she added with a grin. “I do wanna see what you and your little pyros cooked up this time.”

Stepping toward the edge of the cliff, she let the cool night breeze play with the hem of her flowing gown. The faint light of dawn began to creep along the horizon, casting the ocean below in soft hues of pink and gold.

She looked down at Topper, shaking her head with a mix of affection and exasperation. “Out here draggin’ me all over the place. Y’all better be glad I love this.”

Her gaze lingered on the glowing trail he left behind. Her smirk softened, replaced by something more thoughtful. They’re counting on me, she thought, her fingers brushing the brim of her hat. Time to remind them—every end sparks a beginning.

She leapt gracefully from the cliff’s edge, disappearing into the early light as Topper zipped after her, his crackling form trailing a vivid streak of sparks. Below, the first rays of dawn kissed the cliffs, painting the ocean in soft hues of pink and gold.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

I had been asleep . A deep, heavy stillness, like being wrapped in a blanket too thick to breathe through. I don’t know how long it lasted, but it felt endless. And when I woke up… I wasn’t sure who I was.

Then I saw the clock. Its golden hands ticked steadily, glowing against the haze. The sound cut through the stillness, soft but certain, like it knew something I didn’t. It pulled me forward, even when I didn’t know where I was going.

And then there were the fireworks. They exploded in bursts of light, loud and bright, shattering the quiet. They filled the space with color and heat, chasing away the numbness that clung to me like a second skin.

That clock gave me a purpose. And then I saw the Moon.

Its silver light was soft but steady, and it seemed to look right at me. For a moment, I wasn’t afraid of the emptiness anymore. The Moon didn’t speak, but I heard it all the same, like a whisper I didn’t know I was waiting for.

It gave me a name.

Azaria Eve. That’s who I am—or at least who I’m supposed to be. The one who sparks new beginnings, who chases away fear and helps others believe they can be strong enough to start again.

But here’s the thing… how do you inspire hope in others when you’re still figuring it out for yourself? How do you teach people to move forward when you’re not sure if you’re standing still?

I try. I really do. Every burst of light, every tick of the clock—it reminds me that endings don’t have to be the end. They can be the start of something new.

At least, that’s what I tell myself. Maybe one day, I’ll believe it for myself.

Chapter Text

Tucked away in one of the most unsuspecting corners of the world, Azaria’s workshop was a hidden gem of organized chaos. Nestled high in the cliffs above a winding river, the entrance was concealed by a vibrant cascade of flowering vines. To the average onlooker, it might have seemed like an abandoned outpost, forgotten by time—but inside, it was a kaleidoscope of color and creativity, bursting with life.

The walls of the workshop were painted in a riot of colors, each brushstroke telling a different story. Splashes of gold, violet, and fiery red overlapped in no discernible pattern, giving the space an effervescent charm. One wall was completely covered in mural-style images of fireworks mid-burst—tiny, precise brushstrokes that captured the fleeting beauty of her craft.

The workshop was equally practical and whimsical. Shelves lined every available surface, brimming with jars of glowing powders, coils of shimmering wire, and intricately carved hourglass components that ticked softly as though alive. In one corner, an oversized hourglass rotated lazily, its sand sparkling as it flowed from top to bottom in slow, mesmerizing cycles.

Her workbench, a long slab of wood painted in streaks of greens and blues, was covered in blueprints, scattered tools, and half-constructed fireworks. A nearby shelf held a collection of wide-brimmed hats, each one more outrageous than the last, adorned with feathers, beads, and tiny dangling charms.

The floor was a testament to Azaria’s boundless energy. Scorch marks mingled with splashes of paint and stray glitter, while a few discarded sketches of firework designs lay crumpled in the corner. Overhead, strings of tiny sparklers dangled from the ceiling, flickering to life in response to her mood, giving the entire room a starry glow.

Her living space was integrated seamlessly into the workshop. A cozy nook in the back held a hammock strung with colorful ribbons, swaying gently in the breeze from an open window. Nearby, an overflowing bookshelf housed everything from technical manuals on pyrotechnics to well-worn poetry anthologies. A small, round table sat next to it, its surface covered in half-eaten oranges, a steaming cup of tea, and an intricate hourglass she had been tinkering with earlier.

It was here, amidst the chaos and creativity, that Azaria thrived. Every inch of the space reflected her personality—bold, colorful, and unapologetically her.

“Hey, how’s it going with those new fireworks designs? Woah, low flyer—heads up! Aye, you better stop botherin’ him before I come over there and knock some sense into both of y’all!”

Azaria’s voice ricocheted off the cluttered walls of her chaotic lab, barely audible over the relentless POP-POP-CRACK-KABOOM of what could only be described as a firework gone rogue. The air smelled like a Fourth of July gone wrong—sharp gunpowder mixed with an oddly pleasant hint of citrus, courtesy of a bowl of half-eaten oranges perched precariously on a precarious stack of blueprints.

One particularly violent CRACK sent a glittery contraption spiraling across the room, landing in an open jar of golden powder that ignited instantly with a flash. Azaria ducked, throwing an arm over her head as a shower of sparkling debris rained down.

When the chaos finally settled, she stood in the center of the room, goggles askew and face streaked with soot. Her afro, once perfectly fluffed, now leaned dramatically to one side as though it, too, had endured the blast. She waved a hand through the smoky air. “Whew! That one had a little too much pizzazz. Gotta tone it down before I burn this place to the ground… again.”

From the corner, Topper crackled indignantly, his firecracker body bouncing up and down as if to say, This is all your fault.

“Oh, don’t start with me,” Azaria snapped, glaring through the smoke. “You’re the one who said it needed more sulfur. That was your idea!”

Topper let out a sharp POP, spinning like a top to emphasize his point.

Before Azaria could argue, a soft fizzle interrupted her. Another small figure peeked out from behind a glowing jar. Shaped like a miniature fountain firework, Flicker wobbled forward hesitantly, its bold streaks of orange and purple glowing faintly as it released a soft spray of sparks.

“Flicker!” Azaria groaned, planting her hands on her hips. “What’re you doin’ back there? You were supposed to keep an eye on Topper, not join his circus of chaos!”

Flicker sputtered nervously, sparks flickering in an almost apologetic way.

“Uh-huh,” Azaria said, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t try that innocent shimmy on me.”

Topper let out a triumphant POP, clearly amused. Flicker, emboldened by Topper’s defiance, released a playful fountain of glittering sparks.

Azaria pinched the bridge of her nose. “Unbelievable. Now I’m takin’ sass from both of you.” Shaking her head, she couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “Alright, Trouble Team, clean up this mess before y’all give me a migraine.”

Topper and Flicker exchanged a crackling conversation before zipping toward the shelves, leaving trails of sparks behind. Azaria watched them go, muttering, “Little rascals. But I guess it’d be way too quiet around here without ‘em.”

She snapped her fingers, sending a small burst of golden sparks into the air. A broom and dustpan floated over from the corner, lazily sweeping up the glittering debris scattered across the floor. Azaria plopped into a swiveling stool, spinning herself once before stopping in front of the spinning globe in the corner of the room.

The globe shimmered with golden light, each dot pulsing faintly to mark celebrations happening across the world. Azaria leaned in, her chin resting in her hand. “Let’s see what we got today…” Her voice trailed off as the dots on the globe shifted, flickering like tiny fireflies.

Her eyes lit up as one of the dots in Southeast Asia flared brightly. “Ah, the Lantern Festival,” she said, tapping the globe to zoom in. Glowing lanterns floated over a serene river, pulling a wistful smile from her lips. “Always so pretty. Maybe I’ll stop by later, bring a little extra dazzle.”

Another dot flared over South America. The globe displayed a bustling carnival, with crowds dancing and laughing under a kaleidoscope of fireworks. Azaria grinned. “Rio’s partyin’ as usual. They don’t even need my help, but maybe I’ll drop a few extras in the mix. Never hurts to keep things poppin’.”

Flicker hopped onto the desk beside her, releasing soft bursts of sparks in excitement, while Topper zipped up from below, letting out a triumphant POP.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Azaria said with a grin. “I can’t be everywhere at once. That’s why I got y’all and the rest of the crew runnin’ around keepin’ the party alive.”

Her grin faltered as something flickered across the globe—a faint shadow, brief and almost imperceptible, but leaving a trace of inky blackness in its wake.

Azaria leaned in, her brows knitting together. “What in the…?”

Flicker crackled nervously, and Topper let out a questioning spark.

“It’s nothin’,” Azaria said quickly, waving them off. “Probably just smoke messin’ with my head.” Her hand lingered on the globe’s edge as she gave it a spin. “All good. Now, where was I? Oh yeah, Rio. Let’s make sure their carnival goes off without a hitch.”

Flicker and Topper shared a worried spark, but Azaria turned away, forcing her usual grin. “C’mon, y’all. Let’s go make some magic.”

The glowing trail formed behind her, and as she stepped through, she didn’t notice the faint shadow flickering once more across the globe’s surface before fading into gold.

When the light faded, Azaria found herself on a rooftop overlooking a sprawling carnival. The hum of music, laughter, and fireworks filled the air. Flicker and Topper bounced beside her, their sparks fizzing excitedly.

“Alright, y’all,” she said, adjusting her wide-brimmed hat. “Time to work your magic. Let’s make this a night to remember.”

Her eyes sparkled as she scanned the scene below. Strings of lights crisscrossed the streets, colorful streamers fluttered in the breeze, and the smell of fried food and sugar wafted up to her. She grinned, placing her hands on her hips. “Now this is what I’m talkin’ about. These folks know how to throw a party!”

Topper landed beside her with a crackle, his sparks fizzing in excitement as he bounced toward the edge of the rooftop to get a better view.

“Uh-uh, don’t get too comfortable,” Azaria said, reaching down to scoop him up. “You’ve got a job to do, lil’ buddy. See those fireworks over there?” She pointed to a row of launchers lined up near the center of the carnival. “I need you to make sure they go off without a hitch. None of that ‘accidental detonation’ nonsense like last time, you hear me?”

Topper let out a series of pops that sounded suspiciously like a protest.

“Don’t start with me,” she said, smirking. “You know I’m still mad about that time you turned Rio’s grand finale into a glitter bomb. Took me hours to clean up that mess.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a mock-threatening whisper. “I mean it, Topper. Behave, or I’m replacin’ you with a candle.”

The little firecracker spun dramatically in response, sparks flying as if to say, Fine, fine, I’ll do it.

“Good,” Azaria said, plopping him back onto the rooftop. “Now get to it.”

As Topper zipped away, Azaria turned her attention back to the carnival. She pulled her meteor hammer from her waist, spinning it lazily in one hand as she watched the festivities. “Okay, girl,” she muttered to herself. “Time to make some magic.”

As Topper zipped away, crackling indignantly, Azaria turned to Flicker, who was bouncing eagerly beside her. His tiny sparks popped with excitement, casting a warm glow on her face.

“And you,” she said, crouching down to his level with a playful smirk. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, little spark plug. I’ve got a job for you too.”

Flicker tipped forward, releasing a tiny spray of glittering sparks, as if to say, Ready and waiting.

Azaria chuckled. “Alright, see those string lights?” She pointed to a set of colorful bulbs crisscrossing the streets below. A few sections flickered inconsistently, threatening to go out completely. “I need you to hop down there and give ‘em a little extra love. Can’t have the mood dimmin’ on my watch.”

Flicker wobbled enthusiastically, his sparks flaring brighter. He zipped toward the edge of the rooftop but paused, turning back to her with a small, questioning fizzle.

Azaria waved him off with a grin. “You’ll be fine. Just a quick charge to get ‘em back in shape. And don’t overdo it! I don’t need you blowin’ out the whole circuit like last time.”

Flicker let out a soft crackle, like a sheepish laugh, before diving off the rooftop. He darted through the strings of lights, his sparks igniting each bulb he passed. The once-flickering lights steadied, glowing brighter with every touch of his magic. Within moments, the streets below were bathed in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors, drawing cheers from the crowd.

Azaria stood with her hands on her hips, watching Flicker weave through the lights with precision. “That’s my boy,” she murmured with a proud smile. 

She twirled the hammer, the chain extending as the weight glowed faintly. With a flick of her wrist, she sent it soaring into the air, releasing a burst of fireworks that painted the sky with vibrant colors. Cheers erupted from the crowd below as the display unfolded, shimmering ribbons of light cascading like waterfalls.

Azaria didn’t stop. Her body moved with fluid grace, each step a rhythmic beat to the carnival’s music that pulsed through the air. Her gown swirled around her, the high slit teasing yet never revealing what treasures lay beneath.

She shifted her weight and spun again, her movements akin to samba, full of life and energy. Her hips swayed to the music, the chain of her meteor hammer snapping and coiling like a living thing, perfectly synchronized to her rhythm. The glowing weight danced alongside her, releasing bursts of fireworks in time with her steps. The bright lights of her magic reflected off her glowing smile underneath the tilted wide-brimmed hat.

The sky above transformed into a tapestry of vibrant images: a jaguar leapt across the heavens, its outline formed by fiery gold and deep orange sparks. A boy standing apart from the crowd, his shoulders hunched in shyness, watched as the jaguar leapt through the sky. The fiery figure’s confident grace seemed to seep into him. His spine straightened, and his lips curled into a timid smile. He whispered to himself, “I can do it,” before stepping closer to the other children.

A flock of brilliantly colored macaws took shape next, their wings spreading wide before exploding into showers of blue and green light. A little girl, clutching her father’s leg nervously, gasped as the macaws swooped across the sky. One seemed to wink at her before bursting into sparkles, and she laughed, the sound light and infectious. She let go of her father’s leg and spun in the open space, her giggles blending with the joyful cheers around her.

Azaria leaped into the air, her hammer spinning above her head in a wide arc before she brought it down with a flourish. The fireworks shifted, forming intricate vines that climbed and twisted, blooming with hibiscus and passion flowers. Each flower burst into a gentle rain of sparks, filling the square below with a golden glow.

Azaria’s gown seemed alive, the fabric rippling like waves as she moved. The metallic accents along her corset shimmered, reflecting the light of the fireworks above. Hourglass motifs along the edges of her gown glowed faintly, mirroring the rhythm of the fireworks as if the entire display were connected to her heartbeat.

With one final, powerful swing of her hammer, Azaria sent the glowing weight spiraling upward. The chain unraveled fully before snapping back in a fiery explosion of color. Above, a radiant phoenix took form, its wings stretching wide across the sky. The crowd erupted into cheers as the phoenix soared, leaving a trail of glittering embers before bursting into a shower of light that rained down gently over the square.

Azaria landed softly, her gown fanning out around her as she struck a triumphant pose. Her curls, still slightly tousled from earlier chaos in her lab, framed her glowing face as she tipped her hat to the crowd below.

But as she admired her handiwork, a faint chill crept over her. It was subtle—barely noticeable—but it made her pause. Her grin faltered as she scanned the crowd below, her eyes narrowing. Everything looked fine, but the uneasy whisper in the back of her mind returned.

Topper zipped back to her, his sparks snapping urgently. He gestured wildly toward a distant section of the carnival, where a group of children huddled around a small, sputtering firework launcher.

Azaria squinted, her grin fading. The launcher looked seconds away from a catastrophic misfire. She groaned, slapping her forehead. “I swear, I can’t leave y’all unsupervised for five minutes.” She hoisted her hammer and vaulted gracefully off the rooftop, landing softly on the cobblestone below.

She approached the launcher, crouching low to inspect it. The children stood close, their faces painted with both excitement and worry, but none of them looked her way.

Azaria reached out to touch the launcher, her fingers pausing as she glanced at the kids. “Don’t worry, I got this,” she said, her voice low and reassuring. But the children didn’t flinch or react. They didn’t even seem to hear her.

Her heart sank. “Right,” she muttered to herself, shaking off the sting. “Not like they can see me anyway.”

 No human could.

Despite the tug in her chest, she set to work, her movements quick and practiced. The launcher’s base was unstable, the fuse burnt too short. Azaria reached into her gown’s pocket, pulling out a pinch of golden powder. She sprinkled it over the launcher, the sparks flaring to life like tiny fireworks as she adjusted the angles and relit the fuse.

With a soft whoosh, the launcher sprang back to life, sending a series of brilliant bursts into the sky. The fireworks bloomed in vibrant patterns, the final burst forming a radiant star that lingered just a second too long, shimmering like it was meant to leave an impression.

The children gasped, clapping and cheering. One of them stepped forward, inspecting the launcher. “Whoa, it just… fixed itself!”

Another kid chimed in, “It must’ve been magic!”

Azaria stood a few feet away, arms crossed, a faint smile on her face. “Yeah, magic. You’re welcome,” she said softly, even though she knew they couldn’t hear her.

She lingered for a moment, watching the kids laugh and point at the fireworks. Then she sighed, gripping her hammer a little tighter as she turned to leap back onto the rooftop. 

Laughter and cheers floated up to her, blending with the fading crackle of fireworks. The children who had unknowingly summoned her magic were now chasing after glowing confetti, their faces lit with newfound courage and joy.

Flicker and Topper zipped up to her side, their sparks fizzling softly. Flicker nudged against her leg, releasing a gentle burst of golden light as if trying to lift her mood. Azaria smiled down at him, crouching to scoop him into her hand.

“Thanks, lil’ spark,” she said, her voice soft but warm. “You always know how to make a girl feel better.”

Topper let out a defiant POP, bouncing insistently as if to remind her of his presence. Azaria chuckled, shifting her free hand to pat his tiny, fiery form. “And you too, powder keg. Don’t think I forgot about you.”

But as she glanced over her shoulder at the carnival, her smile wavered. The shadows she’d dismissed earlier seemed to creep closer now, twisting in the corners of the celebration like faint wisps of smoke. For a moment, her chest tightened. She gripped the meteor hammer at her waist, the glowing emblem faintly pulsing against her corset.

“Just tired,” she murmured to herself, shaking her head as if to dislodge the unease. “Long night. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about.”

The glowing trail began to form behind her, swirling with golden light. Flicker and Topper bounced excitedly, ready for their next adventure. Azaria turned her back to the carnival, her wide-brimmed hat tilting as she glanced once more at the children. They were still laughing, still fearless, completely unaware of the invisible figure who had given them this moment of magic.

“One day,” she whispered, mostly to herself. “One day, they’ll see me too.”

With a deep breath, she stepped into the light, Flicker and Topper sparking close behind. The hourglass motifs on her gown shimmered briefly, catching the glow as the trail whisked them away.

As the golden light faded, the rooftop returned to silence, save for the faint hum of the carnival below. But in the corner of the square, where the laughter was loudest, the shadows remained. They stretched unnaturally long, curling and twisting as if watching her departure. For just a moment, they coiled tightly before dissipating into the night, leaving nothing but an unsettling stillness in their wake.

Chapter Text

The violin’s wild, gypsy tune echoed through a vast expanse of clouds, a melody as untamed as the swirling mists that danced around it. As the sound crescendoed, the clouds parted to reveal a colossal ice canyon carved into jagged elegance by time itself. Nestled within its depths stood an awe-inspiring fortress—a hidden realm of shimmering ice and northern winds, its majesty impossible to ignore. This was the sanctum of Nicholas St. North.

Inside, the energy was no less commanding. The cavernous workshop was alive with activity, its walls vibrating with the rhythmic hum of industry. A red jacket and a fur-lined cap, unmistakable in their design, hung on a brass hook by the entrance. They were a quiet declaration of the man who claimed this realm.

With a resonant clang, a pair of tongs slammed a block of ice onto a stone worktable. A massive hand seized a roaring chainsaw, its blade biting into the ice with ruthless efficiency. Shards sprayed across the room like glittering stars, catching the light from a thousand glimmering bulbs. The wielder of the chainsaw—a towering man with a muscular frame that exuded raw power—set the tool aside, revealing a forearm tattooed boldly with the word NAUGHTY .

North’s presence dominated the room. His rugged handsomeness was amplified by his thick beard, which framed a face both stern and kind. His piercing blue eyes gleamed with an intensity that could soften in an instant to comfort or blaze to command. His every movement carried an effortless dominance, yet there was an unmistakable warmth beneath the rugged exterior—a protector’s heart wrapped in a warrior’s demeanor.

Nearby, three elves huddled in a doorway, clutching a plate of cookies as if their lives depended on it. Each of them licked their treats nervously, stealing glances toward the towering figure.

“Still waiting for cookies!” North’s booming voice filled the space, his thick Russian accent rolling like thunder.

The elves froze mid-lick, their wide eyes betraying their guilt. Hastily, they ducked out of sight, the plate of cookies temporarily forgotten. North, oblivious to their panic, launched himself across the room on a rolling chair. His enormous hand rummaged through a clutter of tools, finally retrieving a tiny hammer.

With surprising delicacy, North began chiseling the ice. The sleeve of his other arm revealed a second tattoo: NICE , its bold lettering a stark contrast to its counterpart. His intense blue eyes, magnified by a jeweler’s eyepiece, scrutinized every detail of his work. Each motion was precise, his large hands wielding the sculpting tool as though the ice itself would yield only to his will.

The block of ice transformed under his touch, taking the shape of an intricate locomotive. North placed the finished masterpiece on a curving ice track, where it belched frosty vapor before chugging forward. The little train gathered speed, its wheels spinning faster as it hurtled toward a loop, launching off a ramp into midair. Wings unfolded from its sides, jet engines igniting as it soared gracefully across the workshop.

“Yes!” North exclaimed, his grin broad and infectious.

Two trembling elves scurried forward, a plate of cookies held high above their heads. North plucked one from the platter, taking a bite as he chuckled at the train’s flawless flight. But his triumph was short-lived.

The massive doors to the workshop burst open, a yeti barreling inside with panic etched into its features. The sudden commotion sent the locomotive skidding across the floor, breaking into shimmering pieces.

“Arghbal…” The yeti covered its mouth, letting out a remorseful whimper.

“Ach!” North cried out, devastation crossing his face.

North glanced at the broken toy, his brows furrowing. He drew a steadying breath, then turned his piercing gaze on the yeti.

“How many times have I told you to knock?” he asked, his deep voice carrying a mixture of frustration and understanding.

“Warga blarghgha!” the yeti replied, gesturing wildly toward the Globe Room. North’s expression shifted instantly, concern darkening his features. 

“What…? The Globe?” he muttered, rising to his full height.

Without hesitation, North reached for a massive scimitar sheathed by his side. Its blade gleamed as he hefted it over his shoulder, all lightheartedness gone from his face  as he strode purposefully toward the Globe Room.

The room was a sea of shimmering lights, each representing the belief of a child. Tiny bells jingled on the heads of panicked elves could be heard from down the hall as North entered, his boots stomping heavily across the floor. 

“Agh, shoo with your pointy heads. Why are you always under boot, huh?”

The sheer size of the globe in the center of the room was staggering, its lights casting a warm, radiant glow.

But as North approached, pushing past a couple of Yeti workers, his sharp eyes caught the sudden dimming of hundreds of lights. One by one, they winked out, darkness spreading across the continents like a creeping shadow.

“What is this?” North murmured, his voice low and tense.

The lights continued to extinguish, faster now, as though something unseen was snuffing them out. North turned to the yeti by his side. “Have you checked the axis? Is rotation balanced?”

“Wardel bawddrel,” The yeti shrugged, mumbling nervously. Suddenly, a chilling wind swept through the room interrupted him.

 North’s gaze snapped back to the globe, his expression hardening as swirling black sand began to crawl across its surface. It moved like a living entity, engulfing the globe in inky darkness.

The elves scattered in panic, their high-pitched squeals echoing through the room. The black sand coiled upward, forming a vortex that shot through the ceiling. For a moment, the room fell silent, save for the faint echo of cold, malevolent laughter.

North’s jaw tightened as he stared at the void left by the sand. “Can it be?” he whispered, his deep voice laced with both disbelief and dread.

“Dingle!” he called out sharply. A group of elves shuffled forward, each pointing to themselves with confused enthusiasm.

North rolled his eyes. “Make preparations. We are going to have company.”

He turned toward a massive lever on the wall, twisting it with a decisive motion. Energy pulsed through the room, surging upward along the axis shaft and shooting toward the fortress’s tallest spire. From there, a brilliant display of Northern Light energy radiated outward that symbolized a call to arms, summoning the Guardians for the first time in decades.

As the light spread across the sky, illuminating the world below, North stood at the edge of the globe, his massive arms crossed over his broad chest. The hum of the globe’s energy reverberated in the room, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat. His piercing blue eyes gleamed, their sharp intensity softened only slightly by the glow of the auroras radiating from his fortress.

Protect the children. Keep them safe . 

The mantra echoed in his mind, steady and unyielding. It was his purpose, his vow, a promise that he had upheld for centuries with unwavering dedication. Yet, as he gazed at the pulsing lights of belief scattered across the globe, a shadow crossed his thoughts.

He loved his work, truly. Being a child at heart made the wonders he delivered all the more meaningful. The laughter, the joy, the awe they fed something deep within him, something pure and untainted. But there was another part of him, one he rarely allowed to surface. Beneath the wonder and warmth, beneath the jovial laughter and mischievous twinkle in his eye, lay something darker. Primal. A protector, yes…but also a hunter. A guardian, but also a punisher.

His hands tightened into fists at his sides, the tattoos on his forearms flexing with the movement. Naughty. Nice. Two sides of a coin, two facets of his role. And yet, there were times when the “naughty” in his tattoo felt less like a warning and more like a promise. A part of him longed to let loose, to face the darkness that dared to encroach on his domain. To strike fear into those who thought they could harm the innocent.

A flicker of a smirk played on his lips, brief and sharp, before he forced it away. No. Control. Discipline. You’re the light in the dark, not the shadow.

Still, the steel edge in his demeanor remained, unmistakable to those who truly knew him. North wasn’t just the jolly bringer of gifts and wonder. He was a force—a hurricane wrapped in laughter, a storm cloaked in warmth. And those who threatened what he protected would feel every ounce of that storm.

From behind him, a familiar voice cut through the charged silence, laced with its usual sarcasm. “Oh, this better be good, North. I was in the middle of spring prep.”

North turned slowly, his piercing gaze falling on E. Aster Bunnymund, the Easter Bunny himself. His long ears twitched irritably, and his boomerangs were strapped tightly across his back. The Easter Bunny’s sleek fur gleamed in the low light as he adjusted the pouch slung over his shoulder.

“Ah, Bunny,” he rumbled, his voice low and commanding, the faint Russian lilt adding a roughness to his tone. “Good you are here. This is not small matter.”

Bunny’s long ears twitched as he crossed his arms, his emerald eyes narrowing with a mixture of skepticism and irritation. “It never is with you, is it? Let me guess—another ‘emergency’? Someone forget to leave cookies on Christmas Eve?”

North’s smirk widened slightly, his teeth flashing beneath his thick beard. “Not cookies this time, my furry friend. Something far worse.” He leaned forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the smaller Guardian. “Something... dangerous.”

There was a weight in his voice, for all his warmth and laughter, there was no mistaking it. North was a man who could shift into something far more formidable when the situation called for it. And judging by the tension in his posture and the sharp gleam in his eyes, that time was drawing near.

“Tooth, good to see you,” North greeted as Toothiana swooped into the room, her jewel-toned wings shimmering as she landed beside Bunny. The Tooth Fairy’s aura of energy was matched only by the swarm of miniature fairies buzzing around her, each one chittering and flitting like tiny lightning bugs. 

Tooth was mid-conversation with her team. “Montreal, sector six: ten premolars, eight incisors, and twelve canines. Steer clear of the wild goose migration,” she instructed, her voice brisk and efficient. The fairies chirped in response, darting out of the room in a blur of color. 

“Cookies? Eggnog, anyone?” North called, his booming voice cutting through the commotion.

She turned to North, her usual sharp smile softening slightly. “What’s this about, North? Calling us together like this—it must be urgent.”

The rhythmic beat of distant propellers echoed through the chamber. North turned toward the sound, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Sandy,” he rumbled.

Above, a small biplane crafted entirely of shimmering Dreamsand appeared, circling gracefully through the air. Its golden trails glistened in the low light, creating intricate patterns of stars and glyphs. Behind the controls sat Sandy, his diminutive form glowing faintly with the same golden hue as his plane. The Sandman’s serene expression never wavered as the plane descended, landing smoothly in the center of the room.

The plane dissolved into fine sand as Sandy floated to the ground, his soft footsteps making no sound on the polished ice. Above his head, glyphs formed in a swirl of Dreamsand, communicating his thoughts: Busy. A lot of work. What is this about?

“I know, I know,” North said, waving off the glyphs with a casual motion. “But I wouldn’t have called you here unless it was serious.”

The Sandman’s head tilted slightly, his golden eyes narrowing with quiet curiosity. He crossed his arms, waiting for North to elaborate.

North strode to the center of the room, his massive boots thudding heavily against the floor. His imposing figure seemed to cast a shadow even in the glowing chamber. He took a moment to glance at each of them—the stoic Sandy, the skeptical Bunny, and the focused Tooth—before speaking.

“My fellow Guardians,” he began, his deep voice reverberating with a solemn weight. “It is our job to watch over the children of the world and keep them safe. To bring wonder, hope, and dreams.”

The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the belief globe.

“And so, I’ve called us all here for one reason, and one reason only,” he continued, his gaze sharp. “The children are in danger.”

The words hung in the air like a heavy cloud. Tooth’s wings twitched with unease, and Bunny’s usually snarky demeanor shifted to a more serious expression.

North turned toward the globe. “An enemy we have kept at bay for centuries has decided to strike back. We alone can stop him.”

As if on cue, the lights on the globe dimmed slightly, mirroring the growing threat. Sandy stepped closer, his glyphs forming rapidly: Who? How?

North gestured toward the globe, his jaw tight. “Pitch.”

Tooth’s hand flew to her mouth, her feathers fluffing in alarm. Bunny’s ears flattened against his head as he growled low in his throat. “Pitch Black,” he muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. “That no-good, shadow-crawlin’—”

“Enough,” North interrupted, his tone firm. “This is not the time for anger. This is the time for action.”

North strode toward the center of the room, his massive frame commanding attention. His piercing blue eyes held a weighty seriousness as he gestured toward the globe, its shimmering lights a map of the children’s belief across the world.

"The Boogeyman," he began, his deep voice cutting through the murmurs. "Pitch Black was here. At the Pole."

Tooth, always poised and efficient, froze mid-command to her fluttering fairies. “Pitch? Pitch Black? Here?” Her voice rose with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

North nodded solemnly. “Yes. There was black sand covering the globe.”

Bunnymund frowned, his long ears twitching in confusion. “Black sand? What, what…are you on about, mate?”

“And then,” North added, his hand gesturing dramatically, “a shadow.”

Bunny tilted his head, incredulous. “Wait, wait. I thought you said you saw Pitch?”

“Well ah, not exactly…,” North admitted, his voice trailing off.

Bunny groaned, throwing up his paws and turned to Sandy. “Not exactly? Can you believe this guy?” 

Sandy shrugs while forming a Dreamsand question mark above his head. Really? Can’t drop everything for a hunch.

“Yeah, you said it, Sandy.” Bunny huffed as he goes back to painting one of his Easter eggs.

“Look, he is up to something very bad. I feel it in my belly.” 

Bunny’s ears flattened and eyes narrowed, “Hang on, hang on, you mean to say you summoned me here, THREE DAYS before Easter, because of your belly? Mate, if I did this to you three days before Christmas –” 

Tooth, flitting between her fairies, barely glanced up. “Argentina. Priority alert! A batch of bicuspids in Buenos Aires,” she said briskly before turning her focus back to the globe.

North waved him off. “Easter is not Christmas.”

"Here we go," Bunny muttered, rolling his eyes.

Sandy floated serenely near a towering yeti serving him eggnog, his golden Dreamsand flickering faintly. North stood at the center of it all, his imposing frame commanding attention as he absently juggled one of Bunny’s intricately painted eggs in his hand.

“North, I don’t have time for this,” Bunny said with a sigh, his Australian accent sharp. “I’ve got two million eggs to finish, and they’re not gonna paint themselves.”

The room was filled with constant motion. Tooth zipped between her fairies, issuing commands. “Pittsburgh, boy, eight years old—two molars, saltwater taffy. Make it quick!” Her voice was clipped but efficient, her focus unwavering.

North tossed the egg high into the air, catching it deftly. “No matter how much you paint,” he said with a mischievous grin, “it is still egg.”

Bunny groaned, ears twitching. “Mate, I’m dealing with perishables here. You’ve got all year to prep for your one night. Spare me the jokes.”

Tooth’s voice chimed in again, directing her fairies. “Ontario, sector nine—five canines, two molars, fourteen incisors. Is that all from one house?”

Amid the bickering, Sandy waved his hand, trying to catch their attention. His Dreamsand formed a silent golden arrow pointing toward the ceiling, but no one noticed.

“Why are rabbits always so nervous?” North asked, his deep voice laced with teasing humor.

Bunny glared, crossing his arms. “And why are you always such a blowhard?”

Tooth didn’t look up from her fairies, but her voice was laced with dry amusement. “Sorry, not all of us get to work one night a year. Am I right, Sandy?”

Sandy raised a sand flag over his head, pointing and jumping up and down as the moonlight filtering into the room grew brighter, cascading down the walls. His silent protests went unnoticed.

North turned to Tooth, gesturing dismissively. “Tooth! Can’t you see we’re trying to argue?”

“San Diego, sector two!” Tooth snapped at her fairies, ignoring him. “Five incisors, a bicuspid, and a really loose molar on standby!”

Sandy, his patience at its limit, grabbed a nearby elf by the hat and shook it vigorously. The elf’s jingling bell finally silenced the room as all eyes turned toward the small Guardian. Sandy pointed upward, a crescent moon forming above his head in golden Dreamsand. The dizzy elf staggered away, leaving Sandy to glare at the group.

North’s eyes widened. “Aah! Man in the Moon!” He clapped a hand to his chest, feigning surprise. “Sandy, why didn’t you say something?”

Sandy’s deadpan expression spoke volumes, Dreamsand puffing out of his ears in exasperation.

The Guardians followed Sandy’s pointed direction as a shaft of moonlight intensified, concentrating in the center of the room. The air grew still as the light ebbed away, leaving a dark void behind.

From the shadows, a figure emerged, its silhouette sharp and menacing. A cold chill swept through the room as the silhouette solidified into a hauntingly familiar form.

“It’s him,” Bunny said, his voice low and disbelieving. “It’s Pitch.”

North’s gaze hardened as he patted his belly with a knowing look at Bunny. “I told you,” he muttered before turning his attention back to the moonlight. “Manny... old friend. What must we do?”

The Guardians stared up at the Man in the Moon’s light, awaiting the answer they all knew would come. The shadowy figure of Pitch Black dissolved into the air, leaving behind only an eerie stillness and a creeping sense of dread.

The shadow of Pitch dissolved, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake. The room grew darker as the concentrated moonlight intensified, shrinking to a focused beam that illuminated an ornate symbol etched into the floor at the center of the Guardians’ circle. The intricate design glimmered faintly before rising from the ground, revealing a pillar with a large gem embedded at its apex.

Tooth gasped, her wings fluttering. “Guys, you know what this means?”

The moonlight refracted through the gem, casting shimmering beams of light across the chamber. The entire room seemed to hold its breath.

North's deep voice, filled with awe, broke the silence. “He’s choosing a new Guardian.”

“What?!” Bunny’s ears shot upright as he whirled on North, his green eyes narrowing. “Why?”

North spread his massive arms, his broad shoulders shifting under his fur-lined coat. “Must be big deal. Manny thinks we need help.”

Bunny frowned, his disbelief written across his face. “Since when do we need help?”

“I wonder who it’s gonna be?” Tooth chimed, her curious gaze fixed on the glowing gem. Above Sandy’s head, a Dreamsand four-leaf clover appeared, its golden glow shimmering with a playful suggestion.

“Maybe the Leprechaun?” Tooth mused aloud, tilting her head.

Bunny rolled his eyes, his foot tapping impatiently. “Please, not the groundhog. Anyone but the groundhog.”

The light from the gem intensified until the room was bathed in brilliance. A rush of wind swirled through the chamber, forcing the Guardians to shield their eyes. When the light receded, a slight figure emerged on the central pillar, hooded and leaning on a familiar hooked staff.

Bunny’s sharp intake of breath was audible. “Jack Frost.”

Tooth’s mini-fairies collectively sighed and swooned, flitting excitedly around the room. The Guardians stood stunned, save for Bunny, who groaned.

“Ah, I take it back!” Bunny exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “The groundhog’s fine.”

Tooth, caught in an uncharacteristic moment of admiration, stammered, “Well, as long as he helps to... protect the children, right?”

Bunny’s snout wrinkled in nervousness. “Jack Frost? He doesn’t care about children! All he does is freeze water pipes and ruin my egg hunts. He’s an irresponsible, selfish—”

“Guardian,” North interrupted firmly, his icy blue eyes narrowing.

The weight in North’s voice silenced Bunny instantly. He shot North a wary glance, but something in the older man’s expression made him pause. It wasn’t just authority—there was a subtle warning, a restrained edge of dominance that made Bunny swallow his retort. He looked away, his long ears drooping slightly as he muttered under his breath.

North’s gaze lingered on Bunny for a moment before returning to the hooded figure. “Jack Frost,” he repeated, his tone softer this time, as if testing the name.

Jack stood on the pillar, his mischievous grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he lowered his hood, revealing frost-white hair and piercing blue eyes that sparkled like winter’s first snow. He leaned on his staff casually, his stance almost defiant.

Before anyone could speak, the gem atop the pillar pulsed again, drawing their attention. Another beam of moonlight cut through the room, this time illuminating a different part of the floor. The Guardians turned as another ornate symbol began to rise, revealing a second pillar.

“What’s this now?” North muttered, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Tooth’s wings fluttered with excitement. “Two Guardians? Manny’s never done that before.”

The light grew brighter, shimmering like sunlight on water, before a new figure began to emerge above the second pillar. Her silhouette stood tall, a vision of elegance and power cloaked in radiant light. The wide brim of her hat cast a mysterious shadow over her face, but the faint bursts of fireworks crackling in the air above her left no doubt as to her identity.

Before the others could react, Sandy’s eyes widened, his golden Dreamsand shifting in the air with palpable urgency. Above his head, a swirling glyph took shape: Excited! Look! A shimmering exclamation mark appeared, followed by the image of a meteor hammer swirling with sparks. 

Sandy floated upward, his feet silent on the polished floor as he gestured animatedly toward the glowing figure on the pillar, his excitement vibrating through the air like a silent shout.

Bunny squinted, tilting his head with a skeptical smirk. “Alright, calm down, Sandy. Who’s she supposed to be? Another sparkly light show for show-and-tell?”

Sandy vigorously shook his head in disapproval, his glyphs flashing emphatically: No! Not a light show. Important. The Dreamsand above him morphed into a radiant starburst that quickly shifted into a precise silhouette of the woman standing on the pillar, her meteor hammer glowing faintly at her side. His movements grew increasingly frantic, his golden sand forming more glyphs: Guardian. Celebration. New Year’s Eve.

Tooth gasped, her wings fluttering with excitement. “Oh yay! Finally, another woman after all these years!” 

North’s thick brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms. “Who is this ‘New Year’s’? I’ve not heard of them.” 

Tooth raised an amused brow, her sharp tone cutting through the room. “Oh, come on, North. Don’t tell me you don’t recognize her. You, of all people, should know, considering her day is just a few after yours.”

North blinked, his mouth twitching in faint annoyance as he shifted his gaze back to the glowing figure above. “Bah. I’ve been busy!” His tone was defensive, almost gruff. “I let the Yetis handle things after Christmas. I do not spend the rest of the year celebrating. I recover. Already busy preparing for next year.”

Bunny let out a low chuckle, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. “Busy? Is that what we’re callin’ it now? Mate, all you do is sit around and eat cookies while the rest of us actually work.”

North’s broad shoulders straightened, and he turned to Bunny with a glare that made the Pooka falter just slightly. His icy blue eyes bore into Bunny, a faint glimmer of danger in his expression. “I do not just eat cookies. I prepare! Strategize! Keep workshop running smoothly.”

“Tooth’s right,” Bunny quipped, though his smirk was a bit less sure this time. “You probably don’t even know half the people on that list of yours anymore.”

“Enough!” North’s voice boomed through the room, silencing the bickering instantly. His gaze snapped back to the glowing figure, and for a moment, the room seemed to still as his focus narrowed. There was a peculiar energy about her—intoxicating, elusive, and unnervingly powerful. The way her light didn’t simply glow but moved, rippling like a living force, stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in centuries. Dangerous. Alluring.

Tooth, sensing the shift, seized the moment to fill the silence. “Her name’s Azaria Eve,” she said, her tone thoughtful, laced with curiosity. “I’ve only run into her a few times, mostly due to some, uh, firework accidents. It’s usually my Baby Teeth who deal with her helpers, they’re these little firecracker fellas. They’re adorable but... chaotic.”

“Firework accidents?” Bunny snorted, pushing off the wall. “That sounds promising. Just what we need, a walking explosion waiting to happen.”

North ignored him, his eyes still locked on the glowing figure. She radiated both celebration and chaos, and for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp, that duality stirred something in him. Something he wasn’t sure he wanted to confront. 

“She’s not just firecrackers,” Tooth added softly, her wings fluttering with a touch of reverence. “She’s about renewal, about hope. Helping people move forward. She’s... unique.”

North’s lips pressed into a thin line, his voice a low murmur as if testing the weight of the words. “Azaria Eve.” He rolled the name on his tongue, feeling something shift in his chest. His gaze flickered briefly toward the moonlight above. “Manny... you always keep us guessing.”

Sandy floated closer, his Dreamsand forming a glowing image of a phoenix rising from flames, its wings spreading wide. Above it, another glyph appeared: Vital . Needed . Trust .

Bunny sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Alright, fine. Let’s bring her down before Manny drops another curveball on us. But if she starts blowin’ things up, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

North stepped forward, his imposing figure commanding the room. His chest rose and fell steadily, his movements deliberate as he stared up at Azaria’s form, radiant and captivating. The pull deepened, sinking its claws into his very core, an undeniable certainty taking root. She wasn’t just another Guardian. She was something else. Something more. Something dangerous.

North took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he studied the two glowing figures above—the ethereal Azaria Eve and the mischievous Jack Frost. The air in the room seemed to vibrate with the weight of Manny’s choice, the light from the pillars casting long shadows that danced across the icy walls.

“Alright,” he said, his voice calm but laced with authority. He turned to the group, his broad shoulders squared, exuding the kind of confidence that could inspire armies. “We bring them both here—to the North Pole.”

“To the North Pole?” Bunny’s ears shot up in alarm. “Mate, are you serious?” 

North’s sharp glare silenced Bunny’s protests, his icy blue eyes carrying a weight that left no room for argument. “We do not question Manny’s choice,” he said, his deep voice firm. “Azaria and Jack were chosen for a reason. If they are to join us, we must guide them, not doubt them.”

Sandy floated near, his golden Dreamsand forming a glowing question mark above his head, then morphing into two figures: Azaria and Jack standing side by side, their images surrounded by a radiant halo of light. Above them, the sand swirled into a single word: Trust.

North nodded, acknowledging Sandy’s silent reassurance. “Exactly, my friend. Trust. They are part of Manny’s plan. We must give them the chance to prove themselves.”

Bunny groaned, dragging a paw down his face. “Oh, this is gonna be a disaster.”

Ignoring the Pooka’s grumbling, North strode toward the massive globe in the center of the room. With a practiced motion, he twisted a nearby lever, sending a burst of energy rippling through the sphere. The globe lit up, its surface glowing with tiny lights that represented the belief of children across the world.

North’s eyes scanned the globe, locking onto two specific locations. “Sandy,” he called, his voice steady. “You find Jack. Bunny and the Yetis will bring him here. Phil, prepare the sleigh.”

“Why me?” Bunny snapped, crossing his arms. “Aren’t your Yetis supposed to be your go-to crew for this kind of thing?”

“Because you’re fast,” North replied smoothly, his grin faintly teasing. “And if Jack runs, you will catch him. You are good at that.”

Bunny huffed, his ears twitching irritably. “Yeah, yeah. Chase the ice kid. Always me. Can’t we just stick a snowman on him and be done with it?” Still muttering, he retreated to the edge of the room with a grumble, already preparing for the inevitable sprint.

Tooth fluttered closer, her curiosity piqued. “And Azaria? What’s the plan for her?”

Before North could answer, Sandy floated upward, waving his hands animatedly to catch their attention. His golden Dreamsand swirled above him, forming a series of playful glyphs: Friends. Mischief. Troublemakers.

Bunny squinted at the images, his head tilting in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sandy rolled his eyes and gestured with exaggerated exasperation. More glyphs appeared: Jack. Azaria. Every year.

Tooth gasped, her wings fluttering with excitement. “Oh! Of course! They always seem to find each other around this time of year. My Baby Teeth always report sightings of the two of them together—sneaking around, stirring up trouble.” She smirked. “They’re like a chaotic holiday duo.”

Bunny let out a low whistle, folding his arms. “Great. So not just one troublemaker, but two? What do they do? Bloody freeze things and blow them up for fun?”

Sandy nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin spreading across his face as he conjured a Dreamsand image of Jack carving intricate ice sculptures while Azaria set off dazzling fireworks in the background. Above their heads, glyphs sparkled: Joy. Chaos. Laughter.

North’s brows furrowed as he absorbed this information, a deep hum rumbling from his chest. “So... they know each other.”

Tooth laughed softly. “Oh, they more than know each other. From what I’ve heard, they’re practically inseparable during the holiday season. Jack’s ice and Azaria’s fireworks—they’re like two sides of the same coin.”

North’s icy blue eyes darkened, a flicker of something unspoken passing through them. “Then this is good,” he said slowly, his voice steady but carrying a faint edge. “If they are friends, it will make things easier.”

Bunny snorted. “Easier? Sure. If by ‘easier,’ you mean twice the mess.”

North shot him a sharp look, silencing any further complaints. “They are already chosen. If they are friends, Jack can help us bring her here.”

The light of the globe flickered, casting long shadows across the room. “Let us bring them to the North Pole,” North said firmly, his voice cutting through the quiet. “They must understand the danger, and we must understand them.”

As the other Guardians began to disperse, each readying themselves for what lay ahead, North lingered by the globe. His hand hovered over its surface, his thoughts heavy. He stared at Azaria’s image, the pull he felt toward her a quiet storm brewing deep within.

“Two new Guardians,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. “And a battle unlike any we’ve faced.”

North straightened, his icy blue eyes hardening with resolve. With a final glance at the glowing globe, he turned sharply, the heavy sweep of his long coat brushing against the icy floor. His steps echoed with purpose as he strode out of the room, the faint shimmer of moonlight casting his retreating form in a halo of determination. Behind him, the room hummed softly, the glow of the globe a silent witness to what was to come. 

Chapter Text

The town of Burgess, Pennsylvania, lay blanketed in a pristine layer of snow, the kind that muted the world and transformed even the busiest streets into serene landscapes. The early morning sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the white expanse. All was calm, the town caught in the quiet lull that came after a fresh snowfall.

That peace, however, was short-lived.

"Hey, come on! Stop!" Jamie Bennett's voice rang out, shattering the tranquility as it echoed through the trees.

"You can't catch me!" Claude yelled back, his laughter carrying on the crisp air.

Behind them, Jack Frost glided effortlessly, his ice-blue hoodie blending with the winter landscape. His mischievous grin widened as he soared past the boys, his staff in hand. "Ooh, little slippery!" he teased, slamming the base of his staff into the ground.

A shimmering sheet of ice erupted in his wake, slick and perfect. The children skidded to a stop—or tried to. All but Jamie tumbled to the ground in a chaotic pile of limbs. Jamie, however, landed squarely on his sled, the momentum sending him rocketing forward.

"Whoaaaaoooah!" Jamie shouted, his voice a mixture of exhilaration and panic as the sled sped down the icy path, weaving through the trees.

"Jamie!" one of his friends yelled from behind. "Watch out! Stop!"

"Turn, Jamie!" another voice called, the urgency rising as the boy approached the forest's edge.

But Jamie's sled shot out of the trees and onto the snow-covered street, narrowly missing a parked car. His speed only increased, the slick ice Jack had laid down propelling him forward.

In the distance, a moving truck rattled along, its bed piled high with precariously stacked furniture. Jamie's sled veered wildly toward it, his eyes wide with terror.

"No, no, no, no!" Jamie shouted, his voice rising in pitch.

Jack, flying just above the chaos, couldn't help but smile. "Don't worry, kid," he said, his tone breezy and confident. "I gotcha."

Jamie's heart leapt as he glanced back, his terror momentarily giving way to disbelief. "Ahhhh! No, no, no!"

"Keep up with me, kid!" Jack called, zipping ahead. "Take a left!"

But Jamie's sled had a mind of its own. It swerved through the intersection, scattering pedestrians.

"Hey, slow down!" a dog walker yelled, clutching the leashes of several startled dogs.

"Whoa! Sorry!" Jamie cried, his sled careening back toward the sidewalk.

Jack moved swiftly, summoning a trail of ice that sent Jamie's sled skimming safely over the curb. The boy shot past a group of stunned onlookers, one of whom muttered, "Is that Jamie Bennett?"

"Yeah!" Jack cheered, his grin widening as he flew alongside Jamie. The boy's face flickered between terror and excitement, his youthful thrill overtaking his fear.

Jack's sharp gaze darted ahead to an oncoming snowplow, its enormous blade scraping against the icy road. Without missing a beat, Jack swooped forward, redirecting the ice trail with a sharp twist of his staff.

The sled veered just in time, narrowly missing the truck's massive wheels. "Hold on!" Jack yelled, creating an ice ramp ahead.

Jamie's sled hit the ramp at full speed, launching him into the air. "AAAAHHHHHH!" he screamed, his arms flailing as he soared high above the street. Below him, his friends stared in awe, their mouths hanging open.

The sled arced gracefully, carrying Jamie over a statue of Thaddeus Burgess, the town's colonial founder. Snow swirled around him like a halo as he landed with a muffled thud in a massive snowbank.

Jack perched casually on the statue, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. "Yeah!" he shouted, clearly pleased with his handiwork.

Jamie's friends rushed to his side, their worried voices overlapping. "Jamie! Are you okay? That looked serious!"

For a moment, Jamie didn't move. Then, he burst out of the snowbank, his grin splitting his face. "Did you guys see that?!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. "It was amazing! I slid—I did a jump—and I slid under a car—"

Before he could finish, a sofa from the moving truck tumbled off and knocked him flat.

"Whoops," Jack muttered, cringing slightly.

The kids gasped, their hands flying to their mouths as they waited for Jamie to reappear. The silence stretched for a moment before Jamie popped up from behind the sofa, grinning even wider.

"Cool!" he said, holding up a tooth in his hand. "A tooth!"

The group erupted into cheers.

"Dude, that means cash!" one of them said, eyes wide with envy.

"Tooth Fairy cash!" another chimed in.

Jamie beamed, clutching the tooth like a trophy. "I gotta put this under my pillow!"

Jack's grin faltered from his perch, his playful energy dimming as the mention of the Tooth Fairy registered. "Oh, no," he muttered, shaking his head.

"That's awesome!" one of Jamie's friends said. "You're so lucky!"

Jack groaned, slumping against the statue. "No! Not awesome. Wait a minute! Come on, hold on, hold on! What about all that fun we just had? That wasn't the Tooth Fairy, that was me!"

But the kids were too busy celebrating Jamie's new gap-toothed smile to notice Jack's frustration. As they dragged Jamie back to town, laughing and cheering, Jack followed at a distance, muttering to himself.

The statue of Thaddeus Burgess stood tall against the backdrop of the winter sky, Jack perched atop it like a ruler surveying his icy domain. But as he looked down at the kids below, their excitement already fading as they bundled up against the cold, his grin slipped into a frustrated scowl.

The storm clouds overhead mirror his mood, darkening with a low, ominous rumble. The light flurries of snow intensified, swirling through the air with growing ferocity. Jack impatiently tapped his staff against the statue, a faint ring of frost spiraling out from the point of contact.

"Let's go!" one of the kids called, pulling their scarf tighter. "I'm cooold! My ears are freezing!"

"Yeah, my toes are numb," another whined. "Hot cocoa time!"

Jack's eyes narrowed as he watched them begin to scatter, their laughter already fading into the distance. He jumped down from the statue with an annoyed huff, landing gracefully in the snow. His staff hit the ground with a light thunk, sending a faint ripple of frost over the cobblestones.

"Hey, wait!" he called, trying to recapture their attention. "What's a guy gotta do to get a little attention around here?"

Jamie darted past him, his sled tucked under one arm, his breath visible in the frigid air. Jack stepped into his path, arms outstretched. "Come on, kid, I'm the guy who just gave you the sleigh ride of your life!"

But before he could say more, Jamie barreled straight through him. The cold, intangible sensation of the boy passing through his ghostly form left Jack momentarily shaken. He turned, staring after Jamie, who didn't so much as glance back.

Jack's grip tightened on his staff as he muttered under his breath, "Right. Just a little attention. Is that too much to ask?"

The quiet hum of the small town settled under a blanket of stars as night took hold. 

Inside Jamie's bedroom, the light from his desk lamp glowed softly against the walls, illuminating a collection of charts and drawings. Each paper was pinned with meticulous care, depicting UFOs, aliens, Bigfoot, and even Jamie himself flying on his sled. It was a haven of imagination, where mystery creatures and the impossible were very much real.

Jamie lay sprawled on his bed, holding a toy robot aloft as he relived the thrilling events of his day. His voice was animated, echoing with excitement.

"I did this jump, and it was amazing!" Jamie waved the robot in the air as if it were flying. "I slid under a car, and it was awesome! Then I was flying down this hill, like whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, through all these cars, and then—bam!" He mimicked the robot crashing to his bed. "The sled hit something, and I was way up in the air."

His younger sister, Sophie, sat nearby on the floor, their dog wagging its tail beside her. She giggled as Jamie dramatically demonstrated the jump again. "And then BAM! The sofa hit me, and... see?" Jamie grinned wide, revealing the new gap in his teeth. "Ah hoo, hay ow!"

Sophie leaned closer with a child's innocent curiosity, trying to stick her finger into the gap. "Hide, hide, hide!" she squealed, already caught up in Jamie's next idea.

Their mom appeared in the doorway, smiling as she took in the scene. "Alright, you two. Tooth under your pillow?" she asked, her tone warm but gently firm.

Jamie set the robot down on his nightstand, reaching for the stuffed rabbit tucked under his pillow. From behind it, he pulled out a small camera and flashlight. "Yeah," he said proudly. "I'm ready."

"Now, don't stay up trying to see her, Jamie," his mom warned, picking up Sophie. "Or she won't come."

"But I can do it this time!" Jamie insisted, bouncing slightly on his bed. He turned to Sophie. "You wanna help me, Soph? We can hide and see the Tooth Fairy!"

"Hide, hide, hide!" Sophie chanted again, wiggling excitedly in their mom's arms.

"Uh-uh," their mom said, hefting Sophie over her shoulder with a laugh. "Straight to bed now, mister."

Jamie sighed, leaning back onto his bed as their dog climbed up and began licking his face. "Mom..."

Outside, Jack hung upside down, peering through the frosted window. His silver hair shimmered under the moonlight, and for a moment, his usually mischievous expression softened. Watching Jamie's excitement, a pang of longing hit him. He let out a quiet sigh as the glass frosted over beneath his touch.

Jack flipped gracefully onto the roof, landing softly on the snow-covered shingles. His footsteps barely made a sound as he walked to the roof's peak. The full moon hung in the sky, bright and clear, casting its glow across the town. Jack tilted his head up, his ice-blue eyes fixed on the celestial light.

"If there's something I'm doing wrong," he muttered, his voice low, "can you just... tell me what it is?"

The moon remained silent, its light unwavering.

"I've tried everything," Jack continued, frustration lacing his tone. "No one ever sees me."

His voice dropped to a near whisper. "You put me here. The least you can do is tell me why."

The moon offered no answer, its quiet gaze unchanging. Jack shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Figures," he muttered, turning away.

He leaped from the roof to a nearby telephone pole, his movements fluid and effortless. Walking along the wires, Jack's thoughts lingered on the kids, the laughter he could never fully share. His balance was perfect, his staff resting lightly on his shoulder as he wandered.

Then, like golden fireflies, streams of Dreamsand zipped by, weaving through the sky with grace and purpose. Jack stopped, his ice-blue eyes lighting up as a smile spread across his face.

"Right on time, Sandman," he said, his voice softening with genuine warmth.

The Dreamsand descended, drifting toward the houses below and slipping through open windows, carrying sweet dreams to waiting children. Jack ran lightly along the wires, catching up to one of the streams. He reached out, letting the golden sand flow through his fingers. Another stream took the form of a dolphin, twisting in the air before continuing on its journey.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite icicle," a familiar voice called out, playful and teasing.

Jack turned to see Azaria perched on a nearby rooftop, her meteor hammer twirling lazily in her hand. Her wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over her face, but the soft glow of the Dreamsand lit her sharp, knowing smile.

"Azaria," Jack greeted, feigning annoyance as he leapt to join her. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be lighting up fireworks somewhere?"

Azaria raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "And miss your little pity party? No way. Someone's gotta keep you from sulking all over Burgess."

Jack rolled his eyes, but there was no actual irritation behind it. "I wasn't sulking. I was... thinking."

"Uh-huh." Azaria tapped his shoulder lightly with her meteor hammer, sparks flaring briefly at the contact. "Thinking about why nobody sees you? Jack, you've been harping on that for, what, a century now?"

"It's not that simple," he replied, crossing his arms. "You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, please," Azaria said, sitting cross-legged on the roof. "I've been around longer than you, kid. You think I don't get it? Being overlooked? Misunderstood? Come on."

Jack hesitated, gripping his staff a little tighter. "Pfft, you're probably only older than me by a couple of years, Zee. I was wandering around for 50 years before you even showed up. And besides, it's different for you. People celebrate you. Fireworks, new beginnings, all that stuff. Me? I'm just... snow days."

Azaria leaned in slightly, her teasing demeanor softening. "Jack, people love snow days. Are you seriously gonna sit here and tell me they don't? You're talking about the one time people don't have to go to work or school. They get to stay home, relax, wrap up in a warm blanket, sip cocoa, and binge cartoons. Most folks would kill for that."

She tilted her head, her voice growing more sincere. "But you're so much more than snow days, Jack. You bring wonder, joy, that rush of excitement that makes people feel alive. You just don't see it."

For a moment, Jack's gaze met hers. There was something steady and reassuring in her eyes, the kind of support only an older sibling could give. His shoulders relaxed, the weight he carried easing just a little. Azaria grinned and ruffled his hair.

"Come on, icicle," she said, standing up. "Let's make some mischief before your moping turns this town into another Ice Age. Seriously, all this brooding is so teen angst, and you're three centuries old. Do better."

Jack's grin returned, the mischievous spark rekindling in his ice-blue eyes. "Shut up, I was not moping."

"Oh, you so were," Azaria shot back, pulling an exaggerated pout. Her face drooped into an overly dramatic frown as she dragged her words. "You looked just like this."

Jack rolled his eyes but conjured a snowball in one smooth motion, lobbing it right at her face. Azaria sputtered, blinking away the frost as laughter bubbled out of her. She flicked the snow from her face, revealing the dusting of freckles that covered her nose. 

"Alright, alright, Frosty!" she said between chuckles, brushing snow from her hat. "You win this round. But you better watch your back, because payback's coming."

Jack skated ahead, his grin widening as he called over his shoulder. "You can try, Zee. You'll never catch me."

Azaria just shook her head, her smile lingering. "Never say never, Jack," she muttered, grabbing her meteor hammer and twirling it playfully. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve too."

Her boots moved silently against the frost-covered ground as she followed Jack out of the clearing, his energetic movements contrasting her steady stride. Her meteor hammer swung at her side, faintly crackling with dormant sparks, a reflection of her current mood—a mix of quiet tension and hesitant excitement.

Jack bounced ahead, his staff slung over his shoulder. "So, what's the plan? Classic snowball ambush? Frozen fountains? Oh! What about an ice slide into the mayor's yard?"

Azaria rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "Subtlety isn't your strong suit, is it, icicle?"

Jack turned, walking backward so he could face her, his grin wide. "Subtlety's boring. Come on, Zee, when's the last time you had fun?"

Her lips quirked upward at the nickname, a rare indulgence she only allowed Jack. He was relentless, like a persistent little brother who refused to let her be sad for too long. And it worked—more often than she cared to admit.

"Alright," she said, her voice lightening. "But no freezing people this time. I don't feel like explaining frostbite to Topper and Flicker."

Jack groaned theatrically, spinning his staff. "Fine. No freezing people. But what about freezing... things?"

Azaria raised an eyebrow. "That depends. What things?"

His mischievous grin was all the answer she needed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Azaria stood at the edge of the lake, her arms crossed and an amused smirk tugging at her lips. "This is fun?" she echoed, arching a brow. "I'm pretty sure Topper and Flicker are going to call this property damage when they hear about it."

Jack waved her off, his grin widening. "Please. A little frost never hurt anyone. Besides, it's festive!" He gestured grandly at the five frozen mailboxes along the main street, their icy shells glinting under the lamplights. "You can't tell me this doesn't scream 'winter wonderland.'"

Azaria rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a chuckle as she glanced toward the three store windows Jack had artfully frosted. Elaborate designs of snowflakes and swirling patterns adorned the glass, each one more intricate than the last. She had to admit, Jack's mischief had an undeniable charm—chaos and creativity wrapped into one snowballed package.

"Alright, Frosty," she said, stepping onto the ice with a graceful sweep of her meteor hammer. Sparks of light trailed behind her, leaving a faint golden glow in her wake. "If we're doing this, we're doing it right."

Jack's grin turned mischievous. "Oh, I'm always right."

Azaria twirled her hammer, sending a burst of fireworks into the sky that reflected brilliantly against the frozen lake. The colors danced across the surface, mingling with Jack's shimmering ice. For a moment, the entire town square seemed to glow with their combined efforts—a perfect balance of fire and frost.

"Top that," she challenged, her voice light and teasing.

Jack smirked, tapping his staff against the ice. The frozen surface rippled, transforming into a maze of mirrored pathways and crystalline structures that glittered like something out of a fairy tale. He skated effortlessly through his creation, spinning and leaping with a showman's flair.

Azaria watched him, her amusement shifting into something softer. Jack had always been like this—an unrelenting force of joy and mischief, determined to spread laughter even when the world seemed bleak. She both admired and envied this quality. Around him, her own worries seemed to shrink, replaced by the simple pleasure of the moment.

"Not bad, icicle," she called, launching another firework into the sky. The explosion of color sent a cascade of sparks raining down, each one catching the light of Jack's ice sculptures.

"Not bad?" he echoed, skating back toward her with an exaggerated look of offense. "That was amazing, and you know it."

Azaria laughed, the sound bright and unguarded. "Alright, fine. It was impressive. Happy?"

Jack pretended to consider. "I could be happier... if you admit I'm the best partner in crime you've ever had."

Azaria smirked, leaning casually on her meteor hammer. "You're the only partner in crime I've ever had besides Topper and Flicker"

Jack grinned, clearly satisfied. "Exactly."

The two of them continued their antics, their laughter filling the night as they transformed the quiet town into a dazzling display of frost and fireworks. By the time they were finished, the fountains had been frozen into elaborate sculptures, and the lake gleamed like a sheet of polished glass under the moonlight.

As the final sparks of Azaria's fireworks faded into the sky, she found herself standing beside Jack at the edge of the lake. The mischief was done, the stillness returning to the winter night. For a moment, neither of them spoke, their breath visible in the cold air.

"Thanks for this," Azaria said quietly, her voice carrying a note of sincerity beneath the teasing. "I needed it."

Jack glanced at her, his grin softening into something more genuine. "Anytime, Zee. That's what I'm here for."

Azaria looked at him, her tension melting away as a rare sense of peace settled over her. With Jack by her side, the weight of her worries didn't feel quite so heavy. The crisp winter air wrapped around them like a protective cocoon—until it was broken by a faint, unfamiliar noise zipping by behind them.

"Whoa!" Jack spun around, his ice-blue eyes scanning the empty street below. 

"Uhuh, see now, that's the sign that we need to get up on outta here," Azaria said, already standing up and alert.

His grip on his staff tightened as he leapt gracefully to a nearby rooftop, peering into the shadows.

"Jack," she hissed as he continued moving away from her. "What the hell, man," she sucked her teeth as he jumped off the rooftop.  

"Or we could just go towards the creepy, unknown movement. That always works out for the best," she murmured sarcastically to herself, following after him.

In the distance, the murmur of residents reached her ears. "Did you leave the windows open again?" a woman called, her tone laced with mild irritation.

 "The garage door is wide open," another voice chimed in, unconcerned.

Jack frowned, his gaze sharpening. Something wasn't right.

From the rooftop, he leapt to the adjacent tree, his movements swift and silent. Again, a shadow zipped past behind him, too fast to track. His brows furrowed as frustration built. Dropping from the tree onto the roof of a parked truck in a narrow alleyway, he crouched low, every muscle coiled, every sound amplified in the stillness.

And then—WHOOSH!

A shadow flashed by, knocking over a trash can with a loud clatter. Jack's head whipped around, his staff raised defensively. He jumped down from the truck, his boots crunching softly against the frost-covered ground as he backed out of the alleyway into a clearing.

"Well, hello, mate."

The voice was smooth and dryly amused. Jack turned sharply, his staff still raised, ready to strike. His eyes narrowed as a familiar figure stepped into the light.

Before the Pooka could respond, Azaria landed defensively in front of Jack, gown splayed out around her to cover his lean frame. "Alright, I'm gonna need you to just….hop…away?"

"Bunny?" Jack's voice was laced with disbelief and nervousness.

"Okay, you're seeing this too, right?" Azaria whispered loudly to Jack, her amber eyes wide with curiosity. "I thought all that sulfur and fireworks finally got to me."

Jack shot her a look. "Yes, you're seeing him too."

"I can hear you," Bunny deadpanned, his long ears twitching.

Azaria squinted at the Pooka, tilting her head. "Is that... the Easter Bunny?"

Jack sighed. "Yes, Azaria, that's the Easter Bunny."

Azaria clasped her hands to her chest, her voice rising in excitement and all malintent gone. "Oh my gosh, he's so fluffy! I want to pet him! And he's got a little Aussie accent—oh mah geerrsh!" Her arms tucked into her sides, and she made tiny, grabby hands.

Bunny stiffened, his emerald-green eyes narrowing. "I wouldn't advise that. And I'm not-...did you just call my accent 'little'?"

"Woof, okay, sensitive topic, got it," Azaria said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "No petting the Bunny. Message received."

Jack let out a nervous laugh, shifting his weight in front of Azaria. "Bunny, you're not still mad about that... are ya?"

The Pooka stood tall, his fur gleaming under the moonlight as his boomerang twirled idly in his paw. "Blizzard of '68," he said flatly. "Easter Sunday, wasn't it?"

"Ooooh, this is the—" Azaria began, her voice filled with a dawning realization, but she was cut off by Jack clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Don't," Jack hissed, his cheeks tinged an icy blue as he blushed furiously.

Bunny smirked, clearly enjoying Jack's discomfort, albeit confused by her words. "Still embarrassing yourself in front of company, Frost?"

Azaria muffled a chuckle behind Jack's hand before pulling it away with ease. "What did you do to him, Jack? Because whatever it was, I need all the details. There's something goin' on right here."

Jack groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why are you like this Zee?"

"Because," Azaria replied with a grin, "you make it so easy."

Bunny chuckled, his irritation from earlier softening ever so slightly. "Well, much as I'd love to rehash old grievances, this isn't a social visit."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"

Bunny's expression grew serious as he whipped out his boomerang and casually looked at it as he held it in his hands.  "Fellas…"

Before either could react, a massive paw reached out of the shadows and grabbed Jack by the collar, lifting him clean off his feet.

"Hey!" he shouted, flailing at the two yetis holding him grunted something unintelligible. 

The two yetis were giant, fluffy, and had long mustaches and ponytails on top of their heads. If they weren't busy grabbing up on her friend, she would probably be doing the arms of adorableness overload again. 

"Alright, now wait a damn minute!" Azaria cried out in surprise. She wasn't one to jump into a fight but she wouldn' hesitate to start drop kicking a few asses if need be. 

Azaria felt Bunny wouldn't hurt Jack, but the atmosphere was getting a little too tense for her comfort. She wasn't used to confrontation, so it usually made her skittish and quickly led to her being more on the bitchy, defensive side. If she reacted right now there was a strong chance she would overreact and right now it seemed like their best bet would be to see how this played out.

 Glancing over at Bunny, she didn't really get the whole murder, mafia vibe from the Easter Bunny; these Yetis, though, were giving off the vibe of furry henchmen a little too well.

"Durbha wahla," one said, with a stern face, its long moustache flapping. 

"Azaria!" Jack called out again, his voice growing more desperate as he dangled helplessly. "Anytime now!"

"Nah, I'm good. You got this, icicle, I’m right behind you," she called out. 

“Great, that’s comforting!” he replied snarkily. 

The yeti with the flapping mustache grunted and whipped out a snowglobe before smashing it on the ground. 

"Well, that wasn't very nice, I think you might benefit from anger management exercises, bud- ooh, pretty colors," Azaria said gently, a sincere look on her face before getting distracted by the colors.  

"Durtal bardla burdlew," he pointed insistently at the swirling magic portal. The two yetis looked incredulously at her before tossing Jack inside a sack and into the portal. 

"Hey! What is goin-....Ahhhhhhh!!" Jack's protests were muffled, and Azaria stepped forward with curious eyes. 

The other yeti gestured dramatically, as if to say, After you , its furry arm sweeping toward Azaria with politeness.

"Well, thank you, such a gentleman," she smiled gently.  

"Dwbard urghwetee," the other yeti added towards Bunny with a low tone, its tone unmistakably directive.

Bunny raised a paw to his chest, his emerald-green eyes widening in mock offense. "Me?" He let out a sharp laugh, stepping back. "Not on your nelly, mate. You think I'm hopping through that thing after what just happened? Nah, I'll see you lot back at the Pole."

He waved dismissively, leaning casually against the alley wall. "Enjoy your little road trip though." 

Azaria sauntered up to the portal, her smirk widening as she glanced at Bunny. "I like road trips, they remind you if you know how to entertain yourself," she said with a shrug.

Bunny raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "I can tell right now, you’ve got more guts than sense, fireworks."

Azaria winked at him, her grin playful. "Aw, thanks Doc, send me the bill for my session, I’ll write you a check." Without waiting for a reply, she turned toward the portal and dove in after Jack, her laughter trailing behind her as the yetis charge in and the swirling vortex closed with a sharp snap.

Bunny stood alone in the now-silent alley, shaking his head. "Bloody chaos magnets, the both of 'em," he muttered, pushing off the wall and heading back toward the shadows. "This better be worth it." Then, swiftly and purposeful, he lifted one powerful hind leg and stomped it twice against the frosty ground.

The earth trembled faintly beneath him, and with an audible whoosh, a rabbit hole swirled open at his feet. The edges shimmered with a faint green glow, pulsing like veins of light stretching deep into the earth.

Without hesitation, Bunny crouched low, his sleek form tense and ready. "Right, then," he muttered, and with a mighty leap, he dove into the magical rabbit hole, vanishing from sight.

As the ground sealed itself behind him, the shimmering magic left in its wake gave a final pulse before dissipating. A small green plant sprouted in its place, its tender leaves unfolding as though to mark Bunny's passage. 

Chapter Text

Azaria whooped with unrestrained delight inside the swirling magic of the snow globe portal. The sensation was unlike anything else—a chaotic whirl of colors and shimmering light that tugged her in every direction at once, yet left her exhilarated rather than disoriented. “Woohoo!” she shouted, stretching her arms wide as she spun weightlessly through the kaleidoscope of magic. Sparks from her meteor hammer flickered in her wake, mingling with the glowing swirls around her. “This is amazing! Why don’t we travel like this more often?”

Ahead of her, Jack flailed helplessly, still stuck in the sack the yetis had shoved him into. “Speak for yourself!” he shouted, his muffled voice brimming with frustration. “It’s not so fun when you’re the snowball getting tossed around!”

Azaria laughed, rolling onto her back mid-spin. “Oh, come on, Frosty! Live a little! You’re supposed to enjoy the ride.”

Jack’s only response was a muffled grumble, the sound lost amidst the vortex’s whooshing magic. Azaria flipped upright again, her grin widening as the swirling colors intensified, signaling their arrival.

The world suddenly lurched, and the portal spat them out with a snap onto a polished hardwood floor. Azaria landed clumsily on her backside, her wide-brimmed hat slightly askew. Her meteor hammer clattered beside her, its faint sparks flickering harmlessly against the polished wood. 

Despite her less-than-graceful entrance, a crooked grin tugged at her lips. “Well,” she declared, adjusting her coat as she tried to regain some semblance of dignity, “that was fun.”

Jack, meanwhile, tumbled out of the sack, groaning as he sprawled face-first onto the floor. He let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling onto his back, legs still caught up in the sack’s material. “Speak for yourself.”

She giggled, watching as two elves stared at Jack as he crawled out of his confinement. Their tiny, wide-eyed faces were a mixture of awe and disbelief, the jingling bells on their hats trembling as they leaned forward to get a better look. With a deliberate flick of her wrist, the hat shimmered, dissolving into a cascade of sparklers that dissipated into the air when a voice cut through the air, sharp and authoritative.

“Tooth! Walla Walla, Washington—trampoline mishap at 1340 Ginger Lane. Priority alert.” The voice belonged to a high-pitched, colorful figure. Azaria froze mid-motion, her hand hovering above her hat as she squinted toward the source.

“Toothfairy?” she whispered, confused.

“Canines, lateral and central incisor,” Tooth continued, voice accompanied by the flutter of wings.

Azaria’s breath caught as another voice rumbled through the room, deeper, steadier, and laden with unshakable authority.

“Quiet.”

The command wasn’t shouted, but its weight was undeniable. It silenced the flurry of activity in an instant, the room falling into an almost reverent stillness.

Azaria instinctively straightened, her breath hitching as a shiver ran down her spine. Her gaze dropped unbidden, and the first thing she saw was a pair of large, worn boots dusted with snow, followed by the hem of a thick, fur-lined coat that swayed slightly as its wearer stepped closer.

“Hey, there he is! Jack Frost!” Though rich and warm, the voice carried an undertone that vibrated through the air, a subtle but unmistakable growl that prickled at the edges of her awareness.

Azaria’s pulse quickened, her breath uneven as the man—no, the giant of a man—strode forward. His sheer size was enough to command attention, but it was the way he carried himself that held her captive. Broad shoulders squared beneath the thick, fur-lined coat, his every step deliberate and unyielding. He moved like a force of nature, calm but devastatingly aware of his own power, the kind of presence that made the air feel heavier, charged with something raw and untamed.

Her gaze trailed upward, past the curve of his strong jaw, dusted with a rugged beard, to the sharp intensity of his ice-blue eyes. They cut through her like a winter gale, cold and piercing yet brimming with an unspoken heat that made her stomach twist. 

His fur-lined coat shifted as he moved, revealing the muscle beneath—a body carved by years of battle, labor, or maybe both. He was dominance personified, radiating an alpha energy that demanded deference yet promised protection in the same breath.

Azaria’s breath hitched, her thighs clenching involuntarily as her body reacted to him in ways she wasn’t prepared for. The silent storm of his presence wrapped around her like a tangible force, both suffocating and magnetic. Her instincts screamed at her to step back, to put some distance between herself and the raw masculinity rolling off him like thunder, but her legs refused to move. She blinked, forcing herself to retreat a half-step as though even a few inches might steady her racing heart. Her fingers rose to her large gold hoops, fiddling with them in a futile attempt to recompose herself. But the truth was, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Even as North’s attention shifted to Jack, her gaze betrayed her, slipping back to him like a moth drawn to a flame.

What the hell was that?

The question burned in her mind, but the answer eluded her. All she knew was that Nicholas St. North wasn’t at all what she’d expected. His presence was too much, too overwhelming, and yet… intoxicating.

Her eyes roamed again, lingering on the breadth of his chest and the powerful hands resting at his sides. Mm, I wouldn’t mind sitting on that lap and telling him what I want . The thought hit her like a lightning bolt, unexpected and so vivid it made her cheeks burn. She bit the inside of her cheek, grateful for her dark skin to conceal the flush spreading across her face. Her pulse drummed in her ears, and she shifted her weight, crossing her arms to hide the sudden tension in her body.

North turned slightly, his piercing gaze grazing her for a moment too long, as though he could sense her thoughts. The corner of his lips twitched—not quite a smirk, but close enough to make her wonder if he could read the fire simmering beneath her carefully composed exterior. Azaria stiffened, her fingers brushing against the crescent moon birthmark at her collarbone, a nervous habit she hadn’t indulged in years. He stepped forward to greet Jack, his massive arms spread wide in a gesture that seemed more welcoming than intimidating. A shimmering Dreamsand snowflake appeared above Sandy’s head, glinting in the low light.

Jack groaned, rolling his eyes. “Wow, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Before he could get his bearings, the two Yetis lumbered forward, grabbing Jack by the shoulders and hoisting him up onto his feet like he weighed nothing. Jack flailed half-heartedly.

“Hey, hey, whoa! Put me down!” he protested.

North grinned broadly, clapping his hands together. “I hope the Yetis treated you well?”

Jack shot him an incredulous look, brushing off his coat as soon as the Yetis released him. “Oh, yeah. I love being shoved in a sack and tossed through a magic portal.”

“Good!” North said with a booming laugh. “That was my idea!”

Azaria couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her as she leaned casually against the edge of a bookshelf, arms crossed, her dark curls bouncing slightly with the movement. Her laugh was soft but carried across the room, drawing North’s attention like a flame lures a moth.

He turned to her, his piercing blue gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that nearly stole her breath. She straightened instinctively under the weight of his scrutiny, her heart drumming in her chest as he strode toward her. 

“Azaria Eve.” His voice was lower now, softer but laced with something that made the hairs on her arms rise. Her name rolled off his tongue slowly, intimately, as though tasting it for the first time and savoring every syllable.

For the first time in years, Azaria hesitated. Her usual confidence faltered under the sheer weight of his presence. She swallowed hard, her pulse thrumming in her ears, before finally taking a deep breath and placing her hand in his.

His hand engulfed hers completely, warm and strong, his grip firm but not crushing. Azaria swore she could feel the raw strength in his touch, barely restrained like holding her hand was an act of deliberate control. His thumb brushed against her knuckles, slow and intentional, and the simple motion sent a shiver up her spine.

“I am Nicholas St. North but you may call me North.” His voice dipped lower, richer, and the subtle growl beneath his words made her toes curl. His blue eyes stayed locked on hers, refusing to let her look away, his gaze sharp and predatory. “It is… very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she managed to say, her voice steadier than she felt, though her fingers trembled slightly against his palm.

North’s lips curled into the faintest smirk, one that didn’t reach his eyes but somehow made her stomach twist. His grip lingered for a beat too long before he finally released her hand, the absence of his touch leaving her almost dizzy.

“Good,” he murmured, his tone softening but still carrying that growl, barely restrained.

At 5’7”, she wasn’t short, but she felt almost dwarfed next to him — easily over six feet tall, if not seven.

His gaze didn’t waver, and as she stared into those glacial depths, they seemed to darken, a storm gathering beneath the surface. Azaria swallowed hard. There was something raw in how he looked at her; it was a quiet power that was magnetic and unsettling. 

North’s expression remained composed, but his hand lingered on hers a second too long before he released it. He didn’t miss a beat, gesturing toward Bunny, who stood off to the side with his arms crossed, a permanent scowl etched on his face. “You know Bunny, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Jack muttered, his tone dry.

Azaria gave Bunny a little wave, her grin cheeky. “Still fluffy,” she whispered loudly to Jack, earning an annoyed flick of the Pooka’s ears.

Jack’s retort died on his lips as his gaze shifted. He caught sight of something unfamiliar—a swarm of tiny, glimmering figures hovering nearby. Their wings fluttered like hummingbirds, and their luminous eyes locked onto him.

“And the Tooth Fairy?” North prompted, his deep voice filling the room as he motioned toward the vibrant, jewel-toned figure gliding toward Jack.

Toothiana, resplendent in her feathered brilliance, approached with a dazzling smile. Her jewel-like wings shimmered with every movement, and her large eyes sparkled as they locked onto Jack. She moved with an effortless grace, as though swimming through the very air.

Before Jack could muster a response, Azaria stepped forward, her amber eyes twinkling with mischief. “Hey, Tooth! Long time no see—what’s it been? A century?” she said, her tone light and playful. She glanced at the tiny Baby Tooth fairies hovering nearby and grinned. “Ladies, ladies, how y’all doing?”

Azaria’s voice dropped into a perfect imitation of Mung Daal from Chowder, earning giggles from the Mini Tooth fairies. With dramatic flair, she bent slightly and gently kissed the cheek of one particularly swooning Baby Tooth. “Always a pleasure,” she added with exaggerated charm.

Tooth laughed, the sound as melodic as a wind chime. 

“Hello, Azaria,” she said warmly, her wings fluttering in delight. “It’s so good to see you again. You’ve been keeping out of trouble, I hope?”

Azaria smirked, her meteor hammer twirling lazily at her side. “What can I say? Trouble and I have a complicated relationship.”

One of the Baby Tooth fairies flitted around Azaria, chittering excitedly and tugging at her brimmed hat. Azaria chuckled, adjusting it slightly. “Alright, no need to mess with the hair, Tiny. You should know better than to just start touching up on a black woman’s hair. We good?”

Tooth shook her head, her smile widening as she turned back to Jack. “And you,” she said, her tone teasing. “I’ve heard so much about you and your—” her voice dropped conspiratorially, “—teeth.”

Jack blinked, caught off guard. “My what?”

“Your teeth!” Tooth said, her excitement growing as she leaned closer. “Are they really as white as they say? Oh—open up! Let me see!” She gasped, her hands clasped together as she got way too close to his face. “Oh, they really do sparkle like freshly fallen snow!”

Several swooning Baby Tooth fairies flitted around a very confused Jack, their tiny voices squealing with delight and batting their lashes like starstruck fans. Tooth straightened herself with a sheepish laugh, smoothing her feathers. “Girls, pull yourselves together! Let’s not disgrace the uniform.”

The Baby Tooth fairies scattered like scolded children, though their adoring gazes lingered on Jack.

Azaria couldn’t help herself anymore. She doubled over, laughing so hard that tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “Oh, this is priceless,” she gasped between bouts of laughter. “Jack Frost, the heartthrob of the Baby Tooths.”

Jack turned his glare on her, his face flushed. “Don’t you have fireworks to set off or something?”

“Not nearly as entertaining as this,” she shot back, wiping her eyes. “Besides, it could be worse. At least they’re not trying to pet you.” She nudged him playfully.

Bunny let out a sharp huff from the corner, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. “Don’t give ’em any ideas,” he muttered, his ears twitching just slightly.

Azaria’s brows lifted, catching the way his voice bristled, the tension in his stance suddenly palpable. Her eyes flicked to Bunny’s gaze lingering on Jack—just for a moment—before he quickly looked away, his ears flattening as though to hide his discomfort.

“Oh?” Azaria said lightly, a hint of mischief slipping into her tone. ““What, worried you’d lose their attention to Jack, Bunny?” She leaned back against the bookshelf, her arms crossed as she studied him, her smile growing sly.

Bunny’s ears shot up, and he narrowed his eyes at her, his nose twitching in what might’ve been irritation. “I ain’t worried about anything,” he shot back gruffly, but his tone lacked its usual bite.

Azaria didn’t miss how his foot tapped the floor, nervous energy bubbling beneath his tough exterior. She tilted her head slightly, pretending to brush a stray curl from her face while keeping her gaze firmly on him. Interesting, she thought, watching Bunny’s jaw tighten, his gaze darting toward Jack once more before he seemed to catch himself.

North clapped his hands together. “And Sandman!” He turned to where Sandy stood, only to find him snoozing on his feet. “Sandy! Sandy! Wake up!”

Sandy jolted upright, his golden Dreamsand swirling around him as he stepped forward with a sleepy but cheerful smile.

Waving warmly, Azaria made her way over to Sandy, her smile softening into something genuinely tender. As she reached him, the diminutive Guardian opened his arms wide, and the two embraced in a quick but heartfelt hug.

“Still glowing like a star, Sandy,” Azaria teased, her voice filled with affection.

Sandy chuckled silently, his Dreamsand forming a glowing sunburst above his head in response. 

He tapped her shoulder gently, then conjured a small trail of sparkling sand that swirled around her before fading. Azaria laughed, brushing the remnants off her coat.

“You always knew how to make an entrance,” she said, her tone light but warm.

The bond between them was clear, a relationship built on years of understanding and shared wisdom. Sandy was the first person like her that she encountered when she first woke up in her new role, over two centuries ago. Curious and disoriented, she had followed one of his trails along the shores of Nova Scotia and found him weaving dreams for a group of fishermen’s children. 

He’d taken the time to guide her, sharing advice in his unique, silent way, while Azaria had reciprocated by listening and learning to interpret his sand-crafted messages. Over time, their dynamic had evolved into something resembling a sibling bond, with Sandy’s calm wisdom balancing her fiery nature. 

Jack, meanwhile, watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow, his staff resting against his shoulder. “Hey! Ho! Anyone wanna tell me why we’re here?”

Sandy turned toward him, his golden Dreamsand swirling above his head before morphing into a cascade of vivid images. Pitch Black’s ominous silhouette loomed in the sand, surrounded by creeping shadows of black sand and the dimming lights on the globe. The imagery was stark and unsettling, but Jack just squinted, his confusion apparent.

“Uh... yeah, that’s not really helping,” Jack said, scratching his head. He gestured vaguely at Sandy, then added with mock exasperation, “But thanks, little man.”

Sandy stifled a chuckle, his golden Dreamsand swirling lazily above his head as he exchanged a knowing look with Azaria. She smirked, her amber eyes gleaming with amusement. “Don’t take it personally,” she said, her voice light but teasing. “He’s hopeless.”

Jack, unaware of their conversation, gently tapped his staff, frosting an elf with a tray of cookies as it marched past. 

The elf let out an indignant squeak, but Jack ignored it, spinning on his heel to face the group again. “What is this? Am I on the naughty list?”

“Right on cue,” Azaria muttered under her breath, sharing another glance with Sandy.

With a soft sigh, she bent down and scooped up the unfortunate elf, cradling it gently in her arms. The tiny creature blinked up at her, shivering slightly. “Oh, you poor thing,” Azaria cooed, her tone playful yet comforting. She placed a hand over its eyes, her other hand tracing a small arc near its chest. Instantly, a flurry of sparklers erupted around the elf, the warm glow rapidly melting the frost.

The elf’s eyes widened in awe, its little face lighting up with pure joy. When Azaria nuzzled its nose affectionately, the bell atop its hat jingled, and the elf sighed blissfully. She carefully set it back on the ground, where it wobbled away in a daze, its drunken smile drawing envious stares from the other elves.

North chuckled, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. “On the naughty list?” His expression suddenly shifted, deadpan and serious. “You hold the record.”

Azaria couldn’t stifle her laugh, the sound escaping before she could stop it. “Of course, you do,” she said, shaking her head. “Overachiever.”  

His piercing blue eyes slid to Azaria, a flicker of amusement lighting them. “Though… I checked. You are not innocent either, Ms. Eve. Mardi Gras. A few questionable activities. You are on the list too.”

Azaria froze, her grin faltering as she blinked at him, trying to gauge whether he was joking. “What? Wait—how do you even know about Mardi Gras?”

North’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I know everything,” he rumbled, his tone carrying a playful warning. “And I will handle that another time.”

Her cheeks burned, and she cleared her throat, crossing her arms defensively. “Well, that’s not ominous at all,” she muttered, though the spark in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. Her thoughts spiraled into territory she definitely shouldn’t be considering right now.

Jack’s confusion deepened, and Azaria suppressed a laugh, brushing frost off her hands as she straightened. But her amusement faded as she caught a glimpse of North’s eyes fixed on the elves before they flashed to her. 

There was something sharp and guarded in his gaze before he turned to Jack. “But no matter,” North said, waving his hand dismissively. “We overlook. Now, we are wiping clean the slate.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How come?”

“How come? I tell you how come!” North declared, his grin widening as his arms spread in a grand gesture. “Because now… you are Guardian!”

Jack’s eyes widened, his voice laced with disbelief. “Wait, what? Me? A Guardian?”

North’s booming laugh filled the room, his broad hands spreading wide. “Yes! You are a Guardian now! And Azaria too!”

Azaria froze mid-step, her hand resting on the handle of her meteor hammer. “Wait, what?” she echoed, her voice sharper than intended. Her amber eyes darted to North and the others, hoping for some clarification. Instead, she was met with the chaos of the room springing to life.

Yetis moved swiftly, lighting ceremonial torches with dramatic whooshes, their flames illuminating the space in a golden glow. Elves leaped from columns, unfurling banners decorated with snowflakes and sparkling fireworks. Horns and drums erupted in celebratory fanfare, drowning out any protests.

Jack groaned as a group of BabyTeeth swarmed him, presenting a necklace of paper snowflakes. 

“What is this? No, get that off me!” he yelped, brushing at the tiny fairies with exaggerated swipes.

Azaria blinked, her brain scrambling to catch up. “Hold on—what do you mean, ‘Guardian’? Like... permanently?”

North grinned at her, clearly pleased with himself. “Of course, permanently! You and Jack have been chosen. Manny has decided.”

“Chosen?” she muttered, her chest tightening as the weight of the word sank in. Her gaze flicked to Sandy, who smiled at her reassuringly, his golden Dreamsand swirling into symbols of fireworks and snowflakes above his head. A reminder, perhaps, of what she brought to the table. 

But it didn’t ease the sudden, suffocating sensation in her chest.

Jack wasn’t faring much better. As two yetis guided him to a designated spot on the floor, his ice-blue eyes darted around the room in growing frustration. “What are you doing?!” he exclaimed as eager elves brought forward a pair of ceremonial boots. “Huh? No, no, no—this is ridiculous!”

North chuckled heartily, taking an old, oversized book from a burly yeti. He blew a cloud of dust off its cover, the particles swirling in the flickering torchlight.

Azaria, still rooted in place, felt her discomfort mounting. Her fingers clenched at her sides as her thoughts spiraled. Guardian. It was such a loaded word, heavy with responsibility. She had always operated on the fringes, her fireworks and celebrations bringing fleeting joy but never requiring her to stay rooted in one place, let alone take on the role of protector.

Jack’s growing irritation mirrored her own internal turmoil. Baby Teeth fawning over him, Sandy smiling serenely, Bunny leaning against a wall with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression. North stood in the center of it all, grinning like a proud parent.

Finally, Jack had enough. With a shout of frustration, he slammed his staff against the floor. A surge of frost and wind exploded outward, extinguishing the torches and silencing the room.

The celebratory chaos ground to a halt. Elves froze mid-dance, horns faltered into silence, and the Baby Teeth hovered uncertainly in the air. Even the flickering light of the torches was snuffed out, leaving the room bathed in an eerie stillness.

Jack stepped forward, his knuckles white around his staff. “What makes you think I want to be a Guardian? That either of us do,” he said firmly, his voice echoing in the silence. 

North’s piercing blue eyes narrowed, the faintest flicker of displeasure darkening his features. He tilted his head slightly, his imposing frame somehow seeming larger, more formidable. “Of course, you do,” he said, his tone calm but carrying a weight that left no room for argument. Then, with a sharp clap of his hands, he barked, “Music.”

Music!

The elves scrambled into action, their trumpets blaring an off-key fanfare that rattled the air with chaotic celebration.

“No music!” Jack snapped, his voice cracking like ice under pressure.

The music faltered, petering out in awkward silence. One of the elves threw his trumpet to the ground with a tiny, high-pitched growl, stomping off in frustration. North’s face darkened further as his glower settled over the room like an approaching storm. Azaria exhaled shakily, her discomfort now mirrored in the way her shoulders tightened. 

“North,” she began, her words measured but clear, “with all due respect, don’t you think this is a little sudden? We didn’t even get a heads-up.”

North didn’t respond for a moment, his gaze sliding to her with an intensity that made her throat tighten. The faint twitch of his jaw, the deliberate stillness of his body, made it clear he wasn’t accustomed to being challenged.

Jack took the opportunity to step forward again, his voice rising with a mix of frustration and determination. “Look, this is all very flattering, but, uh… you don’t want me. You’re all hard work and deadlines,; I’m snowballs and fun times. I’m not a Guardian.”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Bunny said exasperatedly. 

“Jack, Azaria,” Tooth said, fluttering over, her wings shimmering as they caught the light. “I don’t think you guys understand what it is we do.”

She swooped down gracefully, turning Jack’s attention to the massive globe towering behind him. Azaria followed his gaze, her breath catching as she took it in. The Globe of belief reminded her of her own, but it was far grander, almost overwhelming in its magnitude. Millions of tiny lights twinkled across its surface, each one pulsing gently like a heartbeat.

Tooth gestured toward it, her voice soft but brimming with reverence. “Each of these lights doesn’t represent a celebration—it represents a child.”

Azaria’s brows furrowed, her gaze shifting between Tooth and the glittering lights.

Tooth’s tone grew firmer, the weight of her words pressing down on the room. “Each is a child who believes. And good or bad, naughty or nice, we protect them.”

A brief silence hung in the air before North’s voice broke it, deep and rumbling. “Tooth… fingers out of mouth.”

Tooth blinked, startled, and pulled her hands away from Jack’s face. “Oh, sorry! It’s just… they’re so beautiful,” she said, almost dreamily, her eyes locked on the bright white teeth.

Azaria giggled at the exchange, the sound breaking the tension, while Jack took a cautious step back from the globe and Tooth, his brows drawn tight.

“Okay!” Jack said, throwing up his hands as he moved back to the center of the room. “No more wishy-washy speeches! Pitch is out there, doing who knows what!”

“You mean the Boogeyman?” he added, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Boogeyman?” Azaria cut in, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What—hold on. Boogeyman?! Ain’t nobody said nothing about no Boogetyman!”

Bunny raised a brow, his ears twitching as he leaned slightly toward her. “Boogeyman, sheila,” he corrected gently, his Australian drawl smoothing out the word. “Not Boogetyman.”

Azaria crossed her arms, giving him a skeptical side-eye. “Whatever! Same difference. Y’all should’ve led with that.”

Unfazed by the banter, North stepped forward and gestured toward the lights on the globe. His expression was grave, his voice carrying the weight of the moment. “Yes. When Pitch threatens us, he threatens them as well.”

Sandy and Bunny exchanged a quick, worried glance. Bunny’s ears twitched, and his nose gave an almost imperceptible wiggle, a sure sign of unease. Usually calm and composed Sandy furrowed his brow, the golden sand above his head forming a hesitant swirl.

North didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps he didn’t care. He continued, his voice dipping lower, more dangerous. “This time, there will be no games. No leniency. Pitch has gone too far, and the punishment must be absolute.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of his words pressing down like a heavy snowfall. Even Azaria, who had been cracking jokes only moments before, found herself tensing. There was something unsettling about North’s tone, a raw edge that hinted at a side of him none of them had seen before.

Jack frowned, gripping his staff a little tighter as he glanced at Bunny. “Uh, is it just me, or is he sounding a little... intense?”

Bunny’s ears flattened slightly, his voice low as he replied, “Yeah, mate. Just a bit.” He shot a cautious glance at Sandy, who nodded subtly, his golden sand forming the faint outline of a worried face.

Azaria stepped closer, her arms crossed as she studied North carefully. “And what exactly do you mean by ‘punishment?’” she asked, her voice steady but curious.

North turned to her, his expression unreadable for a moment before softening slightly. “What I mean,” he said, his tone regaining its usual commanding calm, “is that we cannot allow Pitch to gain the upper hand. Not this time. The children depend on us.”

Jack stepped forward, his knuckles tightening around his staff. “All the more reason to pick someone more qualified!” he snapped, his voice laced with frustration.

North barked out a dry, humorless laugh. “Pick? You think we pick?” He stepped closer, his towering frame casting an imposing shadow over Jack. “No. You were chosen by the Man in the Moon, just as we were all chosen.”

Jack blinked, his defiance faltering as confusion swept across his face. He turned, his gaze darting between the group before settling back on North. “What?” he asked, dumbstruck.

Tooth stepped forward, her wings fluttering nervously. “Last night, Jack. He chose you two.”

“Maybe,” Bunny muttered from the side, his tone skeptical but not dismissive.

Jack’s eyes widened, disbelief etched into every line of his face. “The Man in the Moon—he talks to you?” His voice wavered, a mix of awe and skepticism, as if the very idea unraveled everything he thought he knew.

“Uh oh,” Azaria muttered under her breath, crossing her arms. She already knew where this was heading—they had just lit the fuse to Jack’s most sensitive fand explosive firecracker.

North gestured toward the skylight above, where the moon’s soft glow poured down like a celestial spotlight. His expression was calm, but his voice carried the gravity of truth. “You see?” he said, gesturing to the luminous orb above. “You cannot say no. It is destiny.”

Jack followed his gaze, his eyes locking on the brilliant moonlight bathing the room. For a moment, the Guardians watched him in silence, their expressions ranging from hope to unease.

“He’s gonna blow,” Azaria murmured to herself, shifting slightly as the tension in the room thickened.

Jack’s breath caught, his posture rigid as he stared upward, the enormity of the moment pressing down on him like an avalanche. His chest rose and fell rapidly as frustration bubbled to the surface.

“But why?” Jack’s voice shattered the quiet, raw with emotion. He spun back to the group, his eyes pleading, his frustration spilling out unchecked. “Why wouldn’t he tell me that himself? 

After 300 years, this is his answer? To spend eternity like you guys, cooped up in some hideout, thinking of new ways to bribe kids?” He threw his hands up, exhaling sharply. “No, no, that’s not for me. No offense.”

Azaria, leaning back against the bookshelf, raised a brow and smirked faintly. “And the top has officially blown,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“Watch it, Ice pop,” she added softly, her tone light but carrying an edge of warning. “Don’t blow a gasket too hard now.”

Jack shot her a sharp look but didn’t respond, his energy too charged, his emotions spilling over like an unchecked storm. Azaria’s smirk didn’t falter, though. She’d seen tempers like his before—volatile, unpredictable, strangely endearing. And short-lived. 

The Guardians exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Jack’s words settling heavily in the room. But Azaria remained where she was, her eyes flicking to North, curious to see how the giant of a man would handle this particular storm. She had a feeling this wasn’t over yet—and that Jack Frost’s defiance was just the beginning.

His staff clenched tightly in his hand, Jack turned on his heel, his frustration palpable as he headed for the door.

Bunny, breaking the silence, let out a sharp huff, his arms crossing as his ears flicked back in irritation. “How is that not offensive?” he muttered, his voice dripping with indignation.

Azaria’s lips quirked into a wry smile, arms folded as she leaned casually against the edge of the room. “He’s got a point, though,” she said lightly, her gaze shifting to Bunny. “You’d think being subtle was part of the gig, but no—straight for the jugular.”

Bunny shot her a sidelong glance, his tone sharp but tinged with dry humor. “Oh, don’t you start. The last thing we need is two smart mouths stirring the pot.”

Azaria raised her hands in mock surrender, her smile widening. “I’m just saying. The guy has a lot to process, and you’re not exactly helping.”

Bunny ignored her, turning back to the group. “You know what I think? I think we just dodged a bullet,” he said, gesturing toward Jack’s retreating figure. “I mean, what’s this clown know about bringing joy to children anyway?”

Jack froze mid-step, turning back slowly, his expression tight with irritation. “Uh, you ever hear of a snow day?” he snapped. “I know it’s no hard-boiled egg, but kids like what I do.”

Bunny didn’t back down, stepping closer with a dismissive snort. “But none of ’em believe in you,” he said, leaning in just enough for the words to sting. “Do they? You’re invisible, mate. It’s like you don’t even exist.”

“Whoa, Bunny!” Azaria interjected, her tone sharper now. “That’s enough.”

Before she could say more, Tooth fluttered forward, her wings shimmering with agitation. 

“Bunny! Enough!” she said firmly, glancing nervously at Jack, whose jaw was tight, his knuckles white around his staff.

The silence that followed was heavy, the tension thick enough to cut. Jack forced a laugh, though it lacked humor. “No, the kangaroo’s right,” he said flatly, his voice low.

Bunny stiffened, his ears twitching in irritation. “The what?” he said, his voice low and dangerous as he turned fully to Jack. “What’d you call me?”

Jack arched a brow, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “A kangaroo. What, did I get it wrong? If you’re not a kangaroo, then what are you?”

Bunny’s eyes narrowed, his voice practically a growl. “I’m a bunny. The Easter Bunny. People believe in me.”

Azaria couldn’t resist the chuckle that bubbled up. “Oh, my bad,” she said, feigning innocence with a sly grin. “All this time I thought you were a jackrabbit on steroids. Thanks for clearing that up.”

Bunny’s glare darkened, and for a moment, it seemed like he’d let it slide. But his ears twitched sharply, his irritation boiling over. “Well, at least someone recognizes me,” he snapped, his words cutting sharper than he probably intended. “Can’t say the same for you, huh? Bet most kids wouldn’t even notice if you vanished. Heck, fireworks have been around longer than you have.” 

The room went deathly silent. Azaria’s grin froze in place, her posture stiffening as the words sank in. Her arms dropped from their casual fold, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out, the sharp sting of his remark leaving her momentarily stunned.

Even Jack, who had been readying another quip, faltered, his gaze darting to Azaria. “Whoa, Bunny,” he muttered, his voice low with warning.

Sandy nudged North more insistently this time, his golden sand forming an urgent swirl above his head.

North stepped forward, his towering presence filling the room as his icy blue eyes bore down on Bunny. “Enough,” he said, his voice a low, commanding growl.

Bunny’s ears flattened, and though his expression was defiant, there was a flicker of regret in his gaze as he glanced at Azaria.

Azaria, however, wasn’t looking at him anymore. She tilted her head back slightly, a dry laugh escaping her lips as she folded her arms again, this time tighter, like a shield. “Wow,” she said, her tone light but brittle. “Guess I’m learning all kinds of things about myself today.”

Her gaze flicked to Bunny, her dark eyes narrowing, the playful glint in them replaced by something colder. “But thanks for the reminder, Rabbit. Really makes a girl feel special.”

Bunny shifted uncomfortably, his nose twitching, but he didn’t respond. The weight of North’s glare pressed on him, and even his bravado couldn’t hold against it.

North straightened, his massive form radiating authority as he turned to Jack and Azaria. “Jack. Ms. Eve. Walk with me,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

Jack glanced at Azaria, who gave a small shrug, her expression unreadable. Together, they fell into step behind North, the tension in the air following them like a shadow.

As they moved, the faint hum of activity from the workshop echoed in the distance, growing louder with each step. Azaria stole a glance at Jack, whose grip on his staff had loosened slightly, though his face still held the ghost of frustration. She tightened her arms around herself, her thoughts swirling in silence as North led them deeper into the heart of the North Pole.

Chapter Text

North led Jack and Azaria deeper into the workshop, his boots echoing against the polished stone floors with every measured step. The flickering torchlight illuminated the path ahead, casting long shadows that seemed to dance across the towering shelves of toys, tools, and half-finished creations. Yet even amidst the whirlwind of noise and color that defined his domain, North's focus was singular.

Her.

Azaria Eve.

He kept his expression neutral, his stride steady, but his mind was a tempest. Something about the woman trailing just behind him unsettled the very core of his being. Not in a way that threatened his control—North was too disciplined, too seasoned, to let his instincts override him. No, this was something deeper, something primal and unrelenting.

Every time she moved, her scent drifted toward him, faint but intoxicating—a subtle blend of fireworks, sweet citrus, and something uniquely her. It wrapped around his senses like a coiled serpent, refusing to let go. He found himself hyper-aware of every detail: the sway of her hips, the warmth of her skin as she walked a step closer than she needed to, and the way her curls bounced with each step.

And those eyes. North had to take in a sharp, grounding breath, grateful neither being could see his face. 

Amber and sharp, they glowed with defiance and curiosity, daring anyone—him included—to underestimate her. They were the eyes of someone who had fought their way to the light after years of shadows. North had seen that look before in soldiers, survivors, and warriors who bore their scars like trophies...and in himself. 

She's not like the others, he thought grimly, tightening his hands into fists at his sides. The faint creak of leather betrayed his tension.

His rational mind told him to stay focused. Pitch was the priority. The children were the priority. Yet every glance Azaria sent his way made it harder to ignore the fire she had ignited within him.

Azaria's voice broke his thoughts.

"So… this is where all the magic happens, huh?" she asked, her tone light but tinged with genuine curiosity. Her gaze swept across the massive room, taking in the controlled chaos of Yetis and elves darting about their tasks.

North grunted in acknowledgment, not trusting himself to say more.

Beside him, Jack scoffed. "Yeah, magic and insanity. Pretty sure half of these guys don't even know what they're building."

Azaria laughed softly, the sound like warm honey dripping into his ears. North's jaw tightened as he glanced at her, catching the faint smile that curved her lips.

She glanced his way, catching his stare. He didn't look away fast enough.

"What about you, North?" she asked, arching a brow. "Ever get lost in all this… disorder?"

Her question was innocent enough, but the way her voice dipped—playful, teasing—sent a shiver down his spine. He turned his gaze back to the path ahead, his voice steady but laced with something darker.

"Disorder and chaos do not frighten me," he said simply.

Her lips twitched, an unreadable emotion flashing in her eyes. "Good to know. Chaos seems to follow me wherever I go."

North's gaze flicked to her again, lingering for a moment too long. "I have noticed."

Azaria tilted her head, studying him curiously, making his skin prickle. She opened her mouth to respond, but Jack cut in, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

"Are we gonna talk about Pitch, or are we just gonna stroll through your toy wonderland all night?"

North exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus. "Patience, Jack," he rumbled. "We will talk."

"It's nothing personal, North. What you all do, it's just, it's not my thing." 

"Man in Moon says it is your thing. We will see!" 

North stormed through the factory floor, his long strides devouring the space as if he were chasing a storm. Jack struggled to keep up, his staff clutched tightly in one hand as he darted around Yetis and dodged conveyor belts laden with half-finished toys.

"Slow down, would ya?" Jack called, his voice echoing off the towering walls of the workshop. "I've been trying to bust in here for years! I wanna get a good look!"

North shot him a sharp glance over his shoulder, his brows furrowed in mild irritation. "What do you mean, 'bust in'?"

Jack smirked, his pace quickening to keep up. "Oh, don't worry. I never got past the Yetis."

Almost on cue, a towering Yeti pounded his fist into his palm with a guttural growl, his fur bristling. Jack glanced back and offered a half-hearted wave. "Oh, hey Phil."

The Yeti rumbled something unintelligible, but his glare slightly softened at Jack's familiarity.

"Keep up, Jack! Keep up!" North barked, his voice carrying a commanding edge as he pressed forward.

Azaria, trailing behind them, couldn't resist the urge to greet them. She waved casually at the Yetis as she passed, her grin playful and warm. "Hey, fellas!"

The reaction was immediate. One Yeti froze mid-step, his blue-furred cheeks darkening in a comical blush as he clumsily tried to bow but miscalculated, bumping into another Yeti. The second one stumbled, his arms flailing as he tripped over a stack of unassembled train tracks, sending a cascade of parts clattering to the floor.

Jack stopped in his tracks, raising a brow as he looked between the bumbling Yetis and Azaria. "Well, that's new," he quipped, leaning on his staff. "Didn't think Yetis could blush."

Azaria chuckled, tossing her curls over her shoulder as she winked at the flustered creatures. "What can I say? I've got a way with the furry ones."

North, now several paces ahead, came to an abrupt halt and turned, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Azaria," he said, his tone carrying a hint of warning, though his lips twitched in the faintest of smirks. "You are distracting my workforce."

She shrugged innocently, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Not my fault they're easily charmed."

North sighed heavily, gesturing for them to follow. "Enough. We move."

Jack rolled his eyes as he adjusted his pace to keep up. "Not like we're trying to slow you down, Santa," he muttered, earning a quick glare from North.

Azaria and Jack exchanged a conspiratorial glance, her grin widening as they both fell into step behind the towering Guardian. The echoes of Yetis stumbling over one another and scattered toy parts faded into the background as they followed North further into the factory's bedlam.

The workshop was a whirlwind of orchestrated madness. Yetis hammered, painted, and assembled intricate toys. At the same time, elves zipped around, testing flying gadgets and crashing them into walls with wild abandon. The air was alive with the whir of machinery, the sparkle of scattered glitter, and the faint hum of Christmas music playing in the background.

Azaria's gaze darted around, a mix of awe and amusement lighting up her face. A toy duck suddenly whizzed past Jack's head, causing him to duck instinctively.

"Whoa!" he yelped, straightening as he jogged to catch up with North. He glanced at Azaria, who was chuckling softly.

"I always thought the elves made the toys," she said, directing the comment toward North.

North tilted closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "We just let them believe that."

Azaria glanced over at a group of elves eating Christmas ornaments while another was electrocuting himself with a strand of lights. "Yeah, that checks out," she whispered back, her tone dripping with humor.

North’s lips curved into a faint smile, though the concentrated effort it took to keep his composure wasn’t lost on him. The sound of her voice, so light and teasing, wrapped around him like a tether, pulling at something primal he fought hard to restrain.

He wanted to pull her closer, let her feel the full weight of his presence until that playful defiance in her eyes softened into submission. The thought of her bratty smirk fading into wide-eyed surrender sent a dangerous heat rolling through him. His mind flickered to the image of her perched on his lap, her ebony skin glistening as his large hands traced every curve he knew would fit perfectly beneath his large palms.

Focus . The word was a sharp reprimand in his mind, but his body was slow to obey. The scent of her skin, the sway of her hips as she moved, the way her confidence challenged him—it all struck at the edges of his self-control, daring him to take what his instincts screamed was already his. Her scent was warm, resembling crackling embers and cinnamon, which heightened his awareness of her even more.

He struggled against the urge to take a deeper breath, knowing it would make it harder for him to concentrate on the bustling factory around them. This internal battle quickened his pace.

North cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from her with more effort than he cared to admit. “Very nice! Keep up good work!” he called to the elves, his voice booming and steady, though his grip on control felt increasingly precarious.

Azaria snorted, her hand rising to cover her mouth as she tried not to laugh outright. Her gaze lingered on North, noting his easy command over the chaos around him. He didn't look at her long. He never did, it seemed like so far. But Azaria could feel its weight, the way it lingered just enough to stir something electric in the air between them.

North stopped suddenly beside a Yeti who was putting the finishing touches on a line of blue toy robots. He glanced at the creation for less than a second before frowning.

"I don't like it," he said gruffly. "Paint it red."

The Yeti's shoulders slumped in dismay, his large hands gesturing toward the hundreds of blue robots already lined up on a nearby shelf. North simply crossed his arms, his brow arched in silent expectation.

The Yeti grumbled but nodded, grabbing a can of red paint. Azaria bit back another laugh, exchanging a glance with Jack, who muttered, "Glad I don't work here."

North turned sharply, his boots clicking against the floor as he stormed forward, his pace relentless. The closer they got to his office, the more the energy in the air seemed to shift. The bustling sounds of the factory faded into the background, replaced by the steady drum of North's boots and the faint creak of the massive door that loomed ahead.

Inside his office, the atmosphere was markedly different. The clutter of sketches, prototypes, and tools gave the space a sense of controlled chaos, but it was quieter, almost reverent. Shelves filled with meticulously crafted toys lined the walls, and the faint scent of pine and leather hung in the air.

Azaria's gaze softened as she took it all in. The space reminded her of her creative chaos back home, where half-finished projects and scattered tools marked a life of passion and purpose. 

She stepped closer to one of the shelves, her fingers trailing just shy of the wooden surface. Her eyes caught on something that made her pause—a series of framed photographs and hand-drawn cards arranged haphazardly along the walls and desk.

The photos depicted Yetis and elves caught in candid moments of joy. One showed a Yeti proudly holding up a cake, its frosting smeared comically across his fur. Another featured a group of elves mid-celebration, their tiny arms raised triumphantly as they posed around a glittering Christmas tree.

She chuckled softly as her eyes landed on a hand-drawn birthday card pinned to the wall, the crayon lettering bold and slightly askew: "Happy Birthday, Boss! We made extra cookies! "

There was something deeply endearing about the display, a testament to the warmth and camaraderie that permeated even a place as grand as the North Pole. For all his commanding presence and gruff demeanor, North clearly cared for his team—Yetis, elves, and all. It showed in the way he allowed their celebrations to take up space here, their joy woven into the very fabric of his personal sanctuary.

Azaria smiled fondly, her heart thumping unexpectedly. For all the power and authority he exuded, this side of him that cherished those he led was undeniably human. It made her feel a pang of something she couldn't quite name, but it nestled itself in her chest, warm and soft like the glow of candlelight on a winter night.

North dusted his hands as he moved to a small table in the corner. He grabbed a plate from a nearby elf, holding it out toward Jack. "Fruitcake?" he offered.

Jack grimaced, holding up a hand. "Ah, no, thanks."

Without missing a beat, North hurled the fruitcake across the room. It smashed against the wall with a dull thud, leaving behind a faint trail of crumbs and frosting. Jack blinked, stunned, as North turned back to him with a deadpan expression.

Azaria raised a brow, her lips quirking into a mischievous grin as she watched the fruitcake meet its untimely demise. Her mind immediately wandered, unbidden but deliciously wicked. Damn, if he can handle fruitcake like that, what else could those hands do? The thought had her biting her lips to hide a smile, but her eyes sparkled with unrestrained amusement.

"Poor fruitcake," she said aloud, her tone light but teasing. "It never stood a chance, did it?"

North’s gaze flicked to her, his brow lifting slightly as if he could sense the undertone in her voice. She quickly busied herself brushing a speck of dust from her corset, her grin widening as she pretended not to notice his stare.

"Now," North said, his voice deep and deliberate as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing the tattoos etched into his forearms—NAUGHTY on one, NICE on the other. "We get down to tacks of brass."

Jack raised a brow. "Tacks of brass?" he muttered under his breath.

But her gaze was glued to the bold tattoos' intricate designs, curling and weaving around his thick, corded muscles like stories written in ink. 

Her eyes followed the patterns as they stretched up toward his biceps, disappearing beneath the rolled-up fabric of his shirt. The dark lines seemed alive, accentuating every flex and shift of his powerful arms.

Azaria's lips parted slightly, her tongue darting out to wet them as her gaze lingered. Damn. The man was a walking temptation, and the sheer masculinity radiating from him was almost suffocating. Her fingers twitched at her sides, resisting the urge to reach out and trace the inked lines, to feel the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips.

Her thoughts betrayed her, taking a turn she wasn't prepared for. Wonder what else is inked beneath that shirt. The idea made her thighs clench involuntarily, and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from letting out a sound she'd regret. She needed to focus, to pull herself together, but the sight of him—his commanding presence, his broad shoulders, those forearms—was doing something dangerous to her.

Her thighs clenched involuntarily, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her composure. If she kept this up, the inside of her cheek would look like a German Shepherd's chew toy. 

Before he could question further, the wind slammed the office door shut behind them, the sound reverberating through the room like a distant thunderclap. Jack turned to look, watching as the door locked itself with an audible click. When he turned back, North was already moving, his massive frame closing the distance between them with predatory grace.

The air grew heavy, thick with an unspoken tension that made Jack's breath hitch. But North wasn't looking at him anymore. His gaze flicked past Jack, settling on Azaria with a sharpness that made her stomach twist. 

Azaria shifted her weight, crossing her arms as if to shield herself from the intensity of his stare. But she didn't look away. If anything, her amber eyes glowed brighter, challenging him silently.

She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, but her thoughts betrayed her. Submit. Kneel. Let him take you. The quiet, insidious whispers in her mind made her legs feel weak and her breath shallow. She hated how much she wanted it, how much his commanding presence stirred something raw and needy inside her.

Azaria's fingers twitched at her sides as she forced herself to stand taller, her gaze brightening with a mix of defiance and curiosity. Get it together, girl. You're acting worse than a bitch in heat…over SANTA CLAUSE. But even as she told herself that, her body didn't entirely listen.

North leaned in closer to Jack, poking him sharply in the chest. "Who are you, Jack Frost? What is your center?"

Jack blinked, his brows furrowing. "My center?"

'Hehe, how many licks does it take to get to the center of a Toosite Pop,' she thought with a snicker. 'Mm, I wonder if he'd be the type of man t- No, bad Zee, BAD! No naughty thoughts.'

"If the Man in Moon chose you to be a Guardian," North said, standing tall and stroking his beard, "you must have something very special inside."

Azaria couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped her. "Well, he's got snowballs," she quipped, earning a glare from Jack. North's lips twitched faintly in amusement, but his focus never wavered.

"Hmmm?" North muttered thoughtfully, his gaze intense as he stepped toward a nearby shelf filled with Russian nesting dolls. He picked up a doll carved in his own likeness and held it out to Jack. 

"Here. This is how you see me, no? Very big, intimidating. But if you get to know me a little -...." he twisted the doll in half, revealing a smaller version within, and handed it to Jack. "Well, go on."

Her brows furrowed slightly. There had been something—just for an instant—a faint, low jingle as North handed the doll to Jack. A glint of wood that didn't match the others, darker and more weathered, as though another doll was hidden away, its presence almost palpable in the air.

Before she could focus on it further, North shifted, his broad frame momentarily blocking her view with an ease that felt deliberate. Azaria let the thought slide to the back of her mind. 

Jack set down his staff, giving North a curious look before twisting the doll open again. Inside was another carved figure, this one more cheerful, with red cheeks and a jolly expression. "You are downright jolly," Jack remarked, his tone skeptical.

"Ah, but not just jolly," North countered, his deep voice resonating as he gestured for Jack to continue. "I am also mysterious." He twisted the next doll open. "And fearless." Another twist revealed yet another. "And caring. And at my center…"

Jack twisted open the final doll, revealing a tiny wooden figure the size of a jelly bean. He dropped it into North's massive palm. "There's a tiny wooden baby?" Jack asked, raising a brow.

"Look closer," North urged. "What do you see?"

Jack held it up, squinting. "You have… big eyes?"

"Yes!" North exclaimed with enthusiasm, his eyes lighting up. "Big eyes. Very big. Because they are full! Of wonder! That is my center. It is what I was born with. Eyes that have always seen the wonder in everything!"

The toys on the shelves suddenly sprang to life as if on cue. Jack-in-the-boxes popped, toy trains raced across the room, soldiers marched in unison, and planes zipped overhead.

Azaria stepped back slightly, her gaze darting to the animated toys in wonder.

A toy plane swooped past her, and she laughed, reaching out to touch it as it glided. "Okay, I'll admit, that's pretty cool," she murmured, her voice soft with awe.

North's booming voice continued, carrying them through the magical display. "Eyes that see lights in the trees and magic in the air!" The room seemed to pulse with life, the factory beyond their view now bustling with motion.

He turned to Azaria, his intense gaze locking onto her, and his voice softened, his question deliberate. "And you, Ms. Eve? What is your center?"

Caught off guard, Azaria blinked. Her arms folded defensively, but the warmth in North's expression melted her initial resistance. "My center?" she echoed, her tone thoughtful.

"Yes," North said, stepping closer, his towering frame somehow gentler now. "What drives you? What fills you with purpose?"

Azaria hesitated, her gaze drifting to the glowing toys and the vibrant energy around her. She took a deep breath. "It's joy," she said finally, her voice steadier. "Celebration. I see it in every spark of light, every burst of color. I've always wanted to unite people, make them forget their worries, and just… be happy."

North nodded slowly, his expression contemplative. "Yes," he said, his tone carrying a weight of understanding. "You bring light to the darkness. You protect it."

Jack glanced at Azaria, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "So, basically… you're a walking Fourth of July?"

Azaria shot him a playful glare. "And you're a snow globe with an attitude," she shot back, though her smile softened the jab.

North's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable but his eyes glinting with something primal and approving. 

Then, he turned back to Jack. "And you, Jack Frost? What is your center?"

Jack hesitated, his eyes dropping to the tiny wooden figure still in his hand. "I don't know," he admitted quietly, the moment's weight pressing on him.

North stepped closer, gently closing Jack's hand around the doll. "You will," he said, his voice steady with conviction. "In time, you will."

The room fell quiet as Jack stared down at his closed fist, the tiny wooden baby cradled within. Azaria glanced between the two, her heart thudding softly in her chest, the energy of the moment. 

Something blurred past the window outside, so fast it was little more than a fleeting shadow. The energy in the room shifted instantly, tension tightening the air.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, drawing all eyes toward the source. Bunny appeared first, his tall ears flicking with agitation, followed closely by Sandy, whose golden Dreamsand swirled in frantic patterns above his head.

"We’ve got a problem, mate!" Bunny announced, his accent sharp and urgent. His gaze darted to North. "Trouble at the Tooth Palace."

North’s expression darkened, the jovial energy he’d carried moments ago melting into steely resolve. Without a word, he strode forward, pushing open the heavy double doors that led to the launching shed.

Azaria and Jack exchanged a brief glance before following, curiosity and concern propelling them after the others. The corridors of the palace were as vast as they were magnificent, their walls adorned with intricate carvings of constellations and snowflakes that seemed to shimmer with an inner light. Massive chandeliers of ice and crystal hung overhead, casting soft, prismatic hues across the polished floors. The faint hum of magic lingered in the air, an undercurrent of energy that seemed to breathe life into every corner.

Azaria’s fingers brushed lightly along the wall as they moved, her gaze flitting from one breathtaking detail to the next. She couldn’t help but slow her pace slightly, taking in the grandeur that surrounded her.

“This place is... unbelievable,” she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll have to come back when things aren’t so... chaotic. Really take it all in.”

Jack, meanwhile, trudged along with a far less enchanted expression, his brow furrowed as he muttered under his breath. “I’m telling you, I’m not going. No way. This isn’t my fight, and I’m not about to risk my neck for—”

“Jack!” Azaria cut him off sharply, her voice firm as she spun around to face him, her amber eyes locking onto his. “Can you stop being a brat for two seconds? This isn’t about you.”

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her tone. “I’m just saying that –”

“No,” she interrupted, stepping closer and jabbing a finger at his chest. 

“What you’re doing is making excuses. You heard Bunny, there’s trouble at the Tooth Palace, so we’re taking our asses to the Tooth Palace. End of story. You know as well as I do that more hands on deck means a better chance of fixing whatever’s gone wrong.”

Jack opened his mouth to retort but faltered under the weight of her glare. Azaria softened slightly, her tone easing but remaining resolute. “Look, I get it. You don’t want to be here. Neither do I. But sitting this out? That ain’t who we are.”

Jack sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine, but I’m only doing this because you asked nicely,” he muttered, his lips quirking into the barest hint of a smirk.

Azaria arched a brow but didn’t press further. Instead, she turned and continued down the corridor, her steps quickening as the sounds of activity grew louder. Jack followed close behind, his grumbles fading into the background as the group emerged into the launching shed.

The shed was massive, its cavernous walls echoing with the flurry of activity. Yetis rushed back and forth, their movements purposeful as they prepared for the launch. The air buzzed with urgency, the occasional clang of metal punctuating the hurried pace.

“Boys, ship-shape! As soon as impossible!” North bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos like a whip. His commanding presence seemed to double in size, the weight of leadership unmistakable in his tone.

“North! North!” Jack called out, trying to catch the larger man’s attention. “I’ll find another way to get there! There is no way I’m climbing into some rickety old—”

The sound of pounding hooves and beastly snorting cut him off. Jack turned just as it came into view—Santa’s sleigh.

But this wasn’t just any sleigh.

It was a massive, gleaming, tricked-out masterpiece, a hot-rod of a sled that looked like it had been plucked straight from the dreams of every adrenaline junkie. Its metallic finish gleamed under the shed’s lights, with intricate engravings and runes decorating its sides. The thrusters at the back hummed with a faint, almost electric energy, and the entire thing exuded an aura of raw, untamed power.

Jack’s jaw fell open as he stumbled to a halt. “...sleigh,” he finished, the word barely more than a breathless whisper.

“Old what?” North asked, his voice laced with a teasing challenge as he gestured grandly toward the sleigh.

He stood frozen, so mesmerized that he didn’t notice one of the reindeer barreling straight for him until the very last second. The creature skidded to a stop just short of bowling him over, its massive antlers glinting as it tossed its head.

“Whoa!” Jack yelped, staggering back.

Azaria was already moving, her hands clapping together in delight as she stepped toward the reindeer with wide, sparkling eyes. “Oh, my stars!” she gasped, her voice rising with excitement. “They’re even more beautiful than I could’ve imagined! Très jolie.”

The reindeer’s ears perked up at her tone, their massive, muscular forms relaxing as they sniffed the air in her direction. One of them, a towering beast with an impressive rack of antlers, lowered its head slightly, inching closer to Azaria as if drawn by her energy.

Azaria let out a soft laugh, reaching out tentatively. “Hey there, big guy,” she murmured, her voice gentle. “Aren’t you just the most handsome thing?”

The reindeer snorted softly, its large, dark eyes studying her with an intelligence that made her grin widen. When she gently ran her fingers along the side of its muzzle, the creature gave a low, rumbling nicker, leaning into her touch.

“Aw, look at you,” Azaria cooed, giggling when another reindeer nudged her shoulder with its nose, clearly vying for her attention. “Okay, okay, there’s enough love to go around!”

North watched the scene unfold from where he stood, his massive frame momentarily still as his piercing blue eyes tracked Azaria’s every move. He was beginning to feel like some kind of old stalker with how much he was watching her in the few hours since she’d arrived. 

The joy radiating from her was almost palpable, her bright laughter filling the shed like music. The reindeer practically melted under her touch, their usual rambunctious energy subdued into something gentle and docile.

She fits here, the thought struck him before he could stop it.

North’s grip tightened on the reins in his hands, his jaw flexing as he fought back the surge of possessive pride rising within him. Something about seeing her like this—unguarded, utterly herself—made his chest tighten.

Azaria turned back to him, her face glowing with happiness. “North, they’re amazing!” she said, her voice ringing with pure wonder.

He cleared his throat, forcing a gruffness into his tone to mask the warmth creeping into his expression. “Of course they are. Best in the world. They are mine,” he said, but his words softened as the reindeer jostled for Azaria’s attention again. “And it seems they like you too.”

The sleigh came to a standstill, its thrusters powering down with a low hum as the Yetis bustled around for last-minute checks. North gestured to the gleaming vehicle. “Moi deti, moi deti,” he said to the reindeer, his deep voice commanding but affectionate. “Quiet, quiet.”

Jack finally snapped out of his trance, shaking his head as he pointed a finger at the sleigh. “Okay, that’s… mildly impressive. But I’m still not—”

“Jack, get in the sleigh,” Azaria interrupted, her hands still buried in soft reindeer fur as she shot him a pointed look. “We don’t have time for your dramatics.”

Jack groaned, throwing his hands up in defeat as North barked a command to the Yetis, who saluted and moved to secure the reins. 

Azaria gave one last pat to her new furry admirers before stepping toward the sleigh, her steps lighter than they’d been all evening.

"Okay, one ride, but that's it," Jack muttered, begrudgingly climbing aboard the sleigh.

North grinned knowingly, the corners of his mouth twitching as he pulled himself into the driver's seat. Sandy hopped effortlessly into the back, settling in as though he’d done this a hundred times before. Azaria lingered for a moment, her eyes taking in the luxurious interior of the sleigh, from its polished brass accents to the thick fur blanket draped across the front seat. She hesitated, biting her lip.

"North," she began, her voice soft, "is it okay if I sit up front with you?"

North immediately shifted over, his broad shoulders moving with surprising grace as he made space. "Da. Of course," he said, his deep voice laced with an unexpected warmth. "Sit."

Azaria beamed, her excitement uncontained as she climbed in and nestled beside him. The fur blanket enveloped her as she adjusted herself, and she couldn’t help but marvel at the cozy comfort of it. She glanced up at North, who was already busy wrapping the reins around his thick forearms, his movements deliberate and strong.

"Everyone loves the sleigh," he said, the faintest trace of pride in his tone.

Azaria chuckled, smoothing the fur over her lap. "I can see why," she murmured, her voice tinged with awe.

As North secured the reins, he glanced over at Bunnymund, who stood frozen at the edge of the sleigh, his expression a mix of skepticism and unease. "Bunny," North called, his commanding voice breaking through the chatter of Yetis and elves. "What are you waiting for?"

Bunny hesitated, his nose twitching nervously. "I think my tunnels might be faster, mate. And, uh… safer," he added, taking a half-step back.

North raised a brow, unimpressed. With one swift motion, he reached out and hoisted Bunny into the sleigh like he weighed nothing. "Ah, get in. Buckle up!"

Bunny squirmed, looking around his seat in growing panic. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where are the bloody seatbelts?!"

North threw his head back with a booming laugh. "That was just expression!"

Turning to one of the Yetis, North barked, "Are we ready?"

The Yeti shook his head vehemently, throwing his hands up in a fit of frustration, but North paid no mind. "Good!" he bellowed. "Let’s go! Clear!" With a sharp crack of the reins, he shouted, "Hyah!"

The sleigh lurched forward with a burst of speed, scattering elves and Yetis out of its path. Azaria let out an involuntary squeal of delight, her hands gripping the edge of the dashboard as they shot down the luge-like track. 

Sandy, Jack, and Bunny were thrown back into their seats from the sudden acceleration, Bunny clutching the edges of his seat with a white-knuckled grip, his face a mask of pure terror.

"Where’s the bloody brakes?!" Bunny shouted, his voice high-pitched and panicked.

Jack couldn’t help but burst into laughter at Bunny’s predicament, leaning back as the wind whipped through his hair. Azaria, however, was practically bouncing in her seat, her energy infectious.

"This is amazing!" she cried, her voice ringing out over the rush of air and the rumble of the sleigh’s momentum.

North glanced at her briefly, his intense blue eyes softening at the sight of her unbridled joy. For a moment, the weight of their mission and the chaos ahead faded into the background, replaced by the simple, grounding pleasure of her laughter.

"Hold on tight," North said to Azaria, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he cracked the reins again. The sleigh plummeted down an almost vertical drop, the sudden descent causing a cacophony of reactions. Sandy grinned serenely, entirely unbothered by the chaos. Jack threw his hands into the air, shouting with unrestrained excitement. Bunny, on the other hand, gripped the edges of his seat so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Ohhhhhh no!" Bunny groaned, his ears flopping against his head as he braced himself.

Azaria, seated beside North, let out a startled squeal as the drop made her stomach flip. Without thinking, she clutched onto North’s massive arm, burying her head against his sleeve as the wind whipped around them. "Oh my God, that’s too much!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled but laced with exhilaration.

North glanced down at her, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Hold tight," he said, his voice steady, though the corner of his mouth quirked into a faint smile. "It gets better."

As the sleigh hit the bottom of the drop, North pulled a lever, sending them into overdrive. The sleigh barreled into a corkscrew, the world spinning in dizzying loops.

"I hope you like the loopty-loops!" North called back over his shoulder, his voice carrying an edge of amusement.

Bunny, already looking a little green, groaned. "I hope you like carrots," he muttered, clutching the seat even tighter as the sleigh twisted and turned.

"Here we go!" North bellowed, cracking the reins again as they soared upward, the sleigh launching into the bright blue sky.

"Yeeeeee-haaaaa!" Jack shouted, his voice full of glee as he leapt onto the rear of the sleigh, balancing effortlessly as he watched the North Pole shrink into the distance.

Azaria lifted her head from North’s arm, her cheeks flushed with adrenaline. "Okay, that was insane!" she said, laughing breathlessly as she adjusted her grip on the edge of the sleigh. Her grin widened as she peeked over the side, the vast expanse of snowy terrain stretching out below. "But I kinda love it!"

North’s gaze flicked to her, his chest tightening at the sight of her laughter. Something about her joy, so pure, stirred a wild sense of pride in him. He tightened his hold on the reins, leaning into the wind as the reindeer climbed higher. "Klasno!" he exclaimed, his voice booming with satisfaction.

Jack, meanwhile, leaned precariously over the edge, the wind tugging at his coat. "Hey, Bunny," he called, his voice teasing.

Bunny peeked over the side, his face pale as he clung to the sleigh for dear life. "What?" he snapped, his tone short.

"Check out this view-- EEEEEYAAAAAGGH!"!" Jack gestured grandly, only to let out a dramatic yell as he appeared to slip off the back of the sleigh.

Bunny gasped, his heart leaping into his throat. “North, turn around! Jack fell off the–” He scrambled to peer over the edge, only to see Jack lounging nonchalantly on the sleigh's skid below.

"Awwww," Jack teased, smirking up at Bunny. "You do care."

“Ah, rack off you bloody show pony!” 

Azaria burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she leaned against North for balance. "Jack, you’re the worst!" she shouted, still laughing as Bunny growled under his breath.

North’s shoulders shook with silent amusement, but his attention remained on the path ahead, his grip steady on the reins. He could feel the warmth of Azaria’s arm brushing against his side, and despite the chaos around them, a sense of calm settled over him. 

This journey, wild and predictable as it was, for he had done this launch thousands of times, had suddenly become infinitely more enjoyable.

"Hold on, everyone," North commanded, his deep voice cutting through the roar of the wind. A mischievous grin spread across his face, his icy blue eyes glinting with excitement. "I know a shortcut."

Bunnymund groaned, clutching the edge of his seat tighter. "Oh, strewth. I knew we should’ve taken the tunnels," he muttered, his voice filled with dread.

North ignored him, pulling a snow globe from a compartment near the reins. He held it up to his face, squinting slightly as a brilliant image of the Tooth Palace shimmered within its glass surface. "I say... Tooth Palace," he declared with authority.

Azaria, watching from her seat, leaned forward with wide eyes. "What’s he doing now?" she whispered, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Hang on," North replied, his grin widening. "You’re about to find out."

He launched the snow globe into the air with a flick of his wrist, and it burst into a swirling, radiant vortex. The portal crackled with energy, its brilliant light reflecting off the sleigh's polished surface. "Hyah!" North shouted, cracking the reins.

The sleigh surged forward, hitting hyperdrive in an instant. The surreal light of the vortex enveloped them, and the sensation was unlike anything Azaria had ever experienced. Her stomach dropped as they were pulled through the portal with a whoosh, the air around them shimmering with colors that defied explanation.

Just as quickly as it began, the ride through the portal ended with a sudden jolt. The sleigh emerged at the outskirts of the Tooth Palace, the world snapping back into focus around them. The grandeur of the palace loomed ahead, its glistening spires like something out of a dream. But the breathtaking view was marred by streaks of black, shadowy forms rapidly closing in on their position.

Azaria’s breath caught in her throat. "What is that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her amber eyes locked on the approaching threat.

North’s expression hardened, his playful demeanor vanishing as he tightened his grip on the reins. "Trouble," he rumbled, his voice low and dangerous.

The sleigh began its descent, the weight of the moment pressing down on them as they prepared to face whatever waited ahead. Azaria’s hands clenched the fur-lined seat, a mix of fear and determination bubbling within her. Jack shifted beside her, gripping his staff tightly, his jaw set.

The Tooth Palace was under siege, and whatever awaited them on the ground, it was clear—they were heading straight into the storm.

Chapter Text

The sleigh plunged into chaos, the air thick with the whirring chaos of Nightmares and the terrified cries of fleeing Tooth Fairies. It was like navigating a meteor storm. North yanked hard on the reins, the sleigh veering sharply to dodge the oncoming horde.

“What are they!?” North shouted, eyes scanning the pandemonium.

Azaria ducked as a Nightmare streaked past her, its grotesque form snapping dangerously close to the sleigh. Beside her, Sandy and Bunny ducked the onslaught, narrowly avoiding a collision.

“Whoa!” Bunny shouted, clinging to the edge of the sleigh.

Jack leaned out, his sharp gaze locking onto the Nightmares. His eyes widened as he saw them snatching Tooth Fairies mid-flight, their massive jaws gulping down the tiny, glittering creatures before flying off into the darkness.

“They’re taking the Tooth Fairies!” Jack exclaimed, his voice rising over the chaos.

The grip she had on her meteor hammer tightened, the familiar weight grounding her even as a storm raged in her chest. Her heart pounded as she caught sight of a lone Tooth Fairy ahead, its delicate wings faltering as a snapping Nightmare bore down on it, relentless in its pursuit.

Then, as though the maelstrom around her wasn’t chaotic enough, a distant voice echoed in her mind, unbidden but sharp and visceral:

“They’re taking the girls!”

The words sliced through her, raw and jarring, accompanied by the faintest memory—a haunting scream, the sound of boots thundering against concrete, and a door slamming shut. Her vision blurred, not from fear but from the sheer, unrelenting fury that erupted in her chest. Sparks shot out and sputtered trailing from her weapon, an outward manifestation of the emotions brewing inside her.

Jack leaped into the air without hesitation, his movements fluid and sure. He reached the fairy just as the Nightmare lunged, catching the tiny creature in his hand and pulling it to safety.

As Jack landed back in the sleigh, cradling the trembling Baby Tooth in his hand, Azaria moved swiftly. She launched herself to the edge of the sleigh, her hammer swinging in a powerful arc. The weapon glowed faintly, charged with her energy, and when she released it, the hammer hurtled through the air like a streak of molten light.

The Nightmare, oblivious in its pursuit of another fairy, was struck squarely by the hammer. The impact sent a resounding crack through the air as the Nightmare let out a distorted shriek. Azaria's hammer, sparking hotter and brighter now, dragged the creature backward, pinning it against a nearby pillar.

Azaria raised a hand, her fingers deftly working to ignite one of her signature firework charms. With a sharp flick, she sent it spinning toward the trapped Nightmare. The charm exploded in a burst of fiery brilliance, engulfing the Nightmare in an array of vibrant colors. For a moment, the air was filled with the sound of crackling sparks and the scent of sulfur.

When the light faded, the Nightmare was gone, reduced to nothing but a faint wisp of black sand drifting away on the wind. Azaria caught her hammer on its return, the chain coiling smoothly around her arm as she spun back to face Jack and North.

"That’s what you get when you take the little ones," she said fiercely, her voice steady but her amber eyes still blazing with residual anger.

Jack stared at her for a moment, wide-eyed, before breaking into a grin. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

North, who had been steering the sleigh with unrelenting focus, spared Azaria a brief glance. She was breathtaking, he admitted silently, though the admission was unwelcome. There was no time for distraction, and yet he couldn’t suppress the thought. Azaria wasn’t just capable; she was commanding, her fire a stark contrast to his ice, igniting something deep in his core that he refused to name.

North forced himself to look away, returning his focus to the reins. His jaw clenched as he pushed the thoughts aside, burying them beneath the urgency of the moment. 

“Hey, little Baby Tooth, you okay?” Jack asked gently, his voice soothing.

The fairy nodded shakily, her tiny wings fluttering weakly. Jack offered her a reassuring smile, tucking her safely into his jacket as North surged the sleigh forward through the maelstrom toward the Tooth Palace.

The palace loomed ahead, its grandeur contrasting the chaos around it. As they approached, Azaria caught sight of pillars stretching upward, each containing millions of tiny wooden deposit boxes that glittered like stars. But the sight of the Nightmares swarming inside turned her awe into fury.

North’s sharp gaze locked onto a Nightmare ahead. He shoved the reins into Jack’s hands. “Here, take over!” he commanded.

Jack blinked, startled. “What?”

Azaria braced herself as the sleigh jolted under Jack’s inexperienced control. Jack’s surprise melted into exhilaration as he took the reins with a grin, snapping them confidently. “Hyah!”

North drew his sword in a single fluid motion, his massive form shifting as he balanced on the sleigh’s edge. He leaped forward with a fierce battle cry and sliced a Nightmare clean in half. The creature disintegrated into black sand, spilling several tiny Tooth boxes into the sleigh.

“They’re stealing the teeth!” Bunny yelled, his voice thick with frustration.

Azaria’s jaw clenched as she alternatively swung her meteor hammer, its chain glinting in the dim light. She leaped into action, swinging the hammer overhead before kicking it in a powerful arc. The hammer crashed into a Nightmare, the impact stunning it and sending it spiraling into a nearby pillar.

With a flick of her wrist, a burst of colorful fireworks shot into the air, crackling as they stunned two more Nightmares mid-flight. Her face was set in determined fury as she twirled the chain of her meteor hammer, the weapon glowing faintly from the heat of her energy.

“So much darkness, you motherfuckers really need to lighten up,” she muttered, her voice low and dangerous.

Azaria reached into her belt pouch, pulling out a handful of specially crafted firework charms. She tossed them into the air with a flourish, her fingers dancing as she ignited them. The sparks fused together, forming the shape of a massive, serpentine dragon that roared to life. The dragon blazed through the air, its fiery jaws snapping shut over a cluster of Nightmares, swallowing them whole before combusting in a brilliant explosion of light and color.

Jack let out an awed laugh as he maneuvered the sleigh around another pillar. “Now that’s what I call a show!”

Azaria didn’t respond, her focus locked on the Nightmares ahead. Her movements were a dance of precision and power as she swung her meteor hammer again, the weapon colliding with a Nightmare and sending it crashing into another.

Meanwhile, Sandy’s golden Dreamsand swirled around his hands, forming into intricate shapes that struck the Nightmares with deadly accuracy. Bunny leaped from one edge of the sleigh to the other, throwing expertly aimed boomerangs that sliced through the enemy.

The sleigh hurtled toward a massive pillar, the Guardians’ attention split between the battle and the rapidly approaching obstacle.

“Jack, look out!” North bellowed, his voice booming over the chaos.

Azaria glanced up, her eyes widening as the pillar loomed closer. Her grip on her meteor hammer tightened, readying herself for the possible collision. 

Jack tugged hard on the reins, exhaling sharply. “Aaaahhhh!” The sleigh screeched to a halt on the platform, its momentum rattling everyone aboard.

North jumped down first, his commanding voice ringing out. “Tooth! Are you alright?”

Above them, Tooth fluttered in the air, her movements erratic. The frustration on her face was palpable, and her wings twitched with every word. “They… they took my fairies! And the teeth! All of them! Everything is gone! Everything.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and for a moment, she faltered mid-air. The reality of her loss seemed to crash over her like a tidal wave. Her wings drooped, and she landed unsteadily on the platform, her entire frame slumping in defeat.

Jogging over to her, Azaria gently knelt down and embraced the fairy. “Hey,” she said softly, “It’s going to be alright, hun.”

Tooth blinked, her luminous eyes glassy with unshed tears. “They took everything, Azaria,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “My fairies. The teeth. I couldn’t stop them.”

Azaria placed a firm hand on Tooth’s shoulder. “First of all, you’re still here. That means this fight isn’t over. And second…” Her voice sharpened, fiery embers igniting behind her amber eyes. “Who the hell does Pitch think he is, pulling this crap? Messing with your fairies? Nah, we’re not letting this slide. You hear me?”

Tooth gave a shaky nod, some of the tension in her posture easing. Baby Tooth fluttered out from Jack’s hood, zipping over to Tooth and nestling against her cheek. A watery smile broke across Tooth’s face. “Oh, thank goodness! One of you is alright!”

Her relief was cut short by a cold, menacing voice that echoed across the chamber.

“I have to say, this is very, very exciting.”

All heads turned upward to find Pitch standing high above them, his smile oozing smug satisfaction. His shadow stretched unnaturally, slithering across the walls like an ink stain.

“The Big Four, all in one place. I’m a little star-struck,” Pitch taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. He tilted his head, his grin widening. “Did you like my show on the globe, North? Got you all together, didn’t I?”

Tooth shot into the air, her anger reigniting. “Pitch, you’ve got thirty seconds to return my fairies!”

Pitch merely chuckled, disappearing into the shadows before reappearing near a tooth column. “Or what?” he drawled, inspecting the column with feigned interest. “You’ll stick a quarter under my pillow?”

“Why are you doing this?” North demanded, his voice like thunder.

Pitch leaned lazily against the column, his expression darkening. “Maybe I want what you have. To be believed in.”

Jack froze, his expression shifting as the weight of Pitch’s words sank in.

“Maybe I’m just tired of hiding under beds.” 

Bunny scoffed, “Maybe that’s where you belong.” 

“Ah, go suck an egg, rabbit!” Pitch snapped, vanishing again into the shadows just as Bunny leaned over the edge of the platform, startled to find Pitch suddenly upside down, staring him in the face. Bunny recoiled, but Pitch was gone again by the time anyone could react.

From the shadows, Pitch’s voice echoed mockingly. “Hang on… is that… Jack Frost?” His laugh reverberated through the chamber, a haunting, hollow sound.

“Since when are you all so chummy?” 

“We’re not,” Jack defended, his tone sharp, but his stance uneasy.

Azaria shot him a glare so withering it felt like it could melt ice. “Speak for yourself, Ice Pop.”

Pitch’s oily voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Ahh and this must be Azaria Eve,” he purred, his tone mockingly delighted. “Shouldn’t you be hiding away in some cave, figuring out more ways to make things explode?”

Azaria’s amber eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her meteor hammer. “Trying to become a test dummy?” she hissed, her voice venomous. “You want to talk about being believed in while you’re out here stealing fairies and traumatizing kids? Oh, I’d love to hear how that’s supposed to work.”

Pitch’s predatory smile widened as his shadow crept closer to her, curling like dark smoke. His gaze locked on hers, glittering with cruel amusement. “Such passion. Such fire. You could burn the world, couldn’t you? Ah, but I’d tread carefully if I were you. Wouldn’t want another… incident, would we? The seventies, wasn’t it? A little firecracker fiasco?” He chuckled darkly, leaning closer as though sharing a secret. 

Azaria’s entire body stiffened, her jaw locking tight as fury erupted inside her like a volcano. The mention of the seventies struck a nerve so deep it was as though Pitch had reached into her soul and ripped it bare. Her fingers flexed on her weapon, sparks flaring to life along the chain, illuminating the air with crackling heat.

“And Jack,” Pitch turned to the white-haired teen, “since you’re a neutral party, I’ll just ignore you. But, you must be used to that by now.” 

“Keep talking, Pitch,” she snarled, her voice low and dangerous. “I’d love to burn something right now, and you’re looking pretty damn flammable.”

The shadows around Pitch rippled, retreating slightly under the heat of her glare. He tilted his head, his smile unfaltering but his tone softer, almost taunting. “Oh, such temper. I must have hit a nerve. But remember, my dear, anger can be such a… destructive force. Perhaps even more so than fire.”

Azaria stepped forward, her meteor hammer sparking with barely restrained power. “You’re about to discover just how destructive it can be.”

North’s steady hand suddenly rested on her shoulder, grounding her. His deep voice rumbled softly but firmly, “Azaria..” She shot him a glance, her anger still simmering, but the weight of his touch eased her grip. North’s gaze didn’t leave Pitch, his icy blue eyes piercing through the shadows. 

Bunnymund’s ears twitched, and his lip curled into a snarl as he spat, “Pitch! You shadow-sneakin’ rat-bag! Come here!”

Without waiting, the Pooka launched himself toward the Nightmare King. Still, Pitch smirked and slipped into the shadows, only reappearing on a column across the chamber. His dark silhouette loomed ominously against the faint glow of the remaining Tooth Palace lights.

Tooth, her wings buzzing with unrestrained fury, snatched one of Bunnymund’s boomerangs mid-flight. “Ahhhhhhh!” she screamed, surging toward Pitch in a furious blur.

Pitch’s smile widened, almost pleased by her rage. Just as Tooth closed the distance, a hulking Nightmare erupted from the darkness, its massive form rearing up with an ear-splitting shriek. Tooth faltered, her momentum broken, as she veered to avoid the Nightmare’s snapping maw. Behind her, Baby Tooth burrowed deeper into Jack’s tunic, trembling with fright.

Pitch extended a hand, his voice smooth and patronizing as he addressed the creature. “Whoa, easy, girl. Easy now.”

The Nightmare calmed under his touch, the black sand of its mane swirling faintly as he drew a wisp from it. Pitch twirled the shadowy strand in his palm, turning toward Sandman with a smug expression.

“Look familiar, Sandman?” Pitch asked, his tone dripping with mockery. He shaped the wisp into a curling spiral, its texture shimmering like smoke. 

“Took me a while to perfect this little trick. Turning dreams…” He crushed the wisp in his hand, and it disintegrated into an ominous black mist. “...into Nightmares.”

The Guardians stood frozen for a moment, their collective shock palpable.

“Don’t be nervous,” Pitch added, his voice soft but chilling. “It only riles them up more. They smell fear, you know.”

Bunnymund, undeterred, barked back, “What fear? Of you? No one’s been afraid of you since the Dark Ages!”

At that, Pitch’s eyes gleamed with a sudden, dangerous light. Anger flickered across his face for a heartbeat, but it quickly melted into an almost wistful smile.

“Oh, the Dark Ages. Everyone frightened. Miserable. Such happy times for me. Oh, the power I wielded!” Pitch’s voice turned wistful, his dark gaze glimmering with a twisted nostalgia that sent a shiver down Azaria’s spine.

Despite everything she stood for—renewal, hope, and second chances—she couldn’t find a single thread of empathy for the Nightmare King. Madness clung to him like a suffocating shroud, wrapping his words in venom. No, she couldn’t relate to him. She saw only chaos and spite, and that realization left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Pitch’s expression hardened, his smile sharp and menacing as he stared down at the Guardians. “But then the Man in the Moon chose you to replace my fear with your wonder and light! Hope, pfah! The thought makes me fucking sick. Everyone wrote me off as just a bad dream! ‘Oh, there’s nothing to be afraid of! There’s no such thing as the Boogeyman!’” His voice sharpened into a furious rant, his tone ricocheting off the shattered walls of the Tooth Palace.

He wasn’t just bitter; he was consumed by his own despair, a bottomless and endless pit that seemed to feed on itself. She’d met broken people before—hell, she’s one of them—but this? This was something darker, something that made her skin crawl.

“You all stand here, thinking you can stop me, thinking you still matter. Well, that’s all about to change, and look, it’s already starting.”

Azaria watched Tooth’s reaction, the look of horror and devastation on her face as the weight of Pitch’s words settled over the group. Her chest tightened as she heard Pitch’s venomous voice echo through the crumbling palace.

“Children are waking up and realizing the Tooth Fairy never came,” Pitch taunted, his tone dripping with mockery.

Images of children around the world flashed through her mind like distant echoes—little hands lifting pillows, their expectant faces falling when they found their baby teeth still there. A pang of sorrow shot through Azaria. She could feel the collective disappointment of those children, their innocence shaken by something as simple as a missing coin.

“I mean, such a little thing,” Pitch continued, “but to a child…”

Azaria glanced at Tooth, her wings drooping, her glow dimmed with every passing moment. The sight of her despair lit a fire in Azaria’s chest, her jaw tightening. Renewal was her essence, her purpose, but here she was, watching something sacred wither away before her eyes.

Jack stepped closer to Tooth, confusion and concern etched on his face. 

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Tooth’s voice was soft, trembling with disbelief. “They… they don’t believe in me anymore.”

Azaria’s heart ached. It wasn’t just belief she was losing—it was the magic that tied her to the children. The same magic that Pitch was unraveling piece by piece.

Pitch’s voice broke through the moment, dark and triumphant. “Didn’t they tell you, Jack? It’s great being a Guardian…but there’s a catch. If enough kids stop believing everything your friends protect. The wonder, hopes, and dreams it all goes away. And little by little, so do they.”

Azaria’s grip on her meteor hammer tightened. Every word he spoke struck a nerve, like a claw raking against her resolve. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but she held back—a quiet, simmering anger made her more determined than reckless.

“No Christmas, or Easter, or little fairies that come in the night,” Pitch sneered, his voice swelling with dark glee. “There will be nothing. But fear and darkness and me! It’s your turn not to be believed in!”

Azaria stepped forward, her body trembling with fury. “You’re pathetic, Pitch,” she spat, her voice low but seething. 

“You think this makes you powerful? All I see is someone so desperate for attention they’d destroy everything just to get it.”

Pitch’s sharp eyes flicked to her, his shadowy smile widening. “Always so fiery, aren’t you? But tell me. How fiery will you be when they stop believing in second chances? They already don't believe in you.”

The words stung, but Azaria didn’t flinch. She met his gaze with a fire that burned brighter than her fear. “Then I’ll rebuild it, again and again, as many times as it takes. Say something to that bitch.”

As Bunny hurled his boomerangs, Pitch sneered at her and leaped onto the back of his personal Nightmare, disappearing into the depths of the palace, Azaria’s knuckles whitened around her weapon. The Guardians gave chase, but Azaria’s thoughts lingered on his words. 

They landed in the lagoon below moments later, only for North to speak the words she dreaded: “He’s gone.”

Azaria swallowed hard, her heart still racing. This wasn’t over, not by a fucking long shot. 

Her chest rose and fell with measured breaths, her heart pounding not just from the chase, but from the unresolved energy surging through her. She glanced at North, his imposing figure silhouetted against the glowing remnants of the crumbling palace. His sword still hung loosely in his hand, but his icy-blue eyes burned with restrained frustration.

North turned, his gaze locking onto hers. The intensity of his eyes sent a jolt through her, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. His expression was unreadable, but the fire simmering behind those glacial irises was impossible to miss. 

He stepped closer, the weight of his presence filling the space between them. She refused to back down, tilting her chin defiantly as he loomed over her.

 The corner of his mouth curved in the faintest of smiles, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken, humming like an unseen current.

“Patience, Azaria,” North said, his voice low and edged with something she couldn’t quite name. “You’re practically shaking with anger. We’ll strike when the time is right.”

Her pulse quickened, not from rage but from the strange pull he seemed to have over her. She turned away abruptly, her fingers brushing against the smooth metal of her weapon as if to ground herself. “I’m not great at waiting.”

“That much is clear,” he murmured a hint of amusement in his tone.

Azaria threw him a sharp look over her shoulder, but her retort died in her throat as seeing a strange look on his face. 

He was watching her—not just with the commanding presence of a leader, but with an intensity that felt almost... hungry. Her breath hitched, and she hated the way her body responded, a warmth curling low in her stomach.

She cleared her throat, breaking the moment. “So, what now? We sit around while Pitch terrorizes the world?”

“No.” North’s voice was firm, and he stepped closer again, his towering frame almost brushing against hers. “Now, we regroup. We plan. And then, we finish this.”

His nearness made her hyper-aware of everything: the faint scent of pine clinging to him, the way his broad shoulders seemed to block out the chaos around them, the heat radiating from his body despite the cool air. 

Her gaze dropped to his hands, wondering how those rough and calloused would feel on her skin, if they’d be gently yet precise in their movements.

Azaria forced a smirk, though her pulse betrayed her. “Fine. But don’t expect me to sit back and play cheerleader. I may not have an answer on being a Guardian and all that but I’m in this.”

His lips twitched into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “I never doubted that.” His voice dipped lower, softer, as his eyes flicked to hers—and for a heartbeat, she thought they lingered on her lips. The tension between them was palpable, a thread pulled taut, but before she could decide whether to cut it or let it snap, he straightened and turned away.

Azaria exhaled, steadying herself before following him as they began to walk. The distant sounds of the others sorting through the wreckage provided a backdrop to their unspoken conversation. Finally, she broke the silence.

“You know,” she began, her tone light, “it’s funny. In all these years, I’d have thought we’d crossed paths before. But we haven’t. I guess in a way that’s my doing thought, I didn’t want to step on your toes.”

North glanced at her, his gaze sharp yet amused. “Step on my toes? Hardly, what make you think this? You don’t seem like the type to tread lightly, if I may say so.”

She laughed softly, the sound carrying a mix of ease and mischief. “Fair. But still, sometimes it can feel like working in your territory during the New Year. Trees are still up, lights and music still scream Christmas day in and day out. I wouldn’t want to... I don’t know, overstep, I guess.”

North’s gaze lingered on her, his expression thoughtful, almost tender. “Respect isn’t just earned through what you do,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a warmth that felt intimate despite the destruction around them. 

“It’s earned through who you are. And you? You’ve got a fire that refuses to be snuffed out. That’s something worth honoring.”

Azaria blinked, caught off guard by the weight of his words. Her smirk completely disappeared, replaced by an openness she rarely let show. “That’s... a lot coming from someone like you,” she admitted softly.

He tilted his head, a glint of humor in his eyes. “Someone like me?”

“You know.” She gestured vaguely at his broad frame. “Big, intimidating, runs the show. Probably doesn’t dish out compliments often.”

North chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to ripple through the air. “Perhaps not. But when I do, I mean them.” His gaze held hers for a moment longer, steady and unwavering. “And I don’t say things lightly.”

Her chest tightened, not with anxiety but with something unfamiliar and warm. “Noted,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

North nodded, his attention finally shifting forward as they continued walking. They walked in silence for a moment longer, the unspoken understanding between them deepening. Azaria couldn’t help but feel that, for all his gruffness and authority, there was a depth to North she hadn’t expected—a quiet strength that drew her in, even as it kept her at arm’s length. And maybe, just maybe, she’d find a way to bridge that gap.

Her chest tightened, not with anxiety but with something unfamiliar and warm. “Noted,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

North nodded, his attention finally shifting forward as they continued walking. The silence between them wasn’t awkward but charged with something she couldn’t quite name. Her eyes flicked to his broad shoulders, his purposeful stride, and the way his presence seemed to command the very air around them.

For all his gruffness and authority, there was a depth to him she hadn’t expected—a quiet strength that drew her in, even as it kept her at arm’s length. And yet, the longer she walked beside him, the less that distance felt insurmountable.

Her thoughts veered into dangerous territory, and she stifled a groan. She was absolutely going to hell for this. If she died right now, there’d be a one-way ticket waiting with her name on it. Naughty lists wouldn’t even cover the sort of thoughts she was having about Santa Claus .

The man literally inspired wonder in children, and here she was, wondering how his hands would feel gripping her thighs—or if that deep, rumbling voice of his would grow rougher in moments of passion.

She bit her lip, shaking her head to clear it. Nope. Not the time. Not the place.

But her mind refused to cooperate. Her gaze slid to him again, unbidden, as her thoughts drifted to his age.

He had to be in his mid-40s, maybe a little older. The streaks of white in his hair and the thick, snow-white beard only added to his wise, aged like fine wine self. She shouldn’t have found it so appealing, but damn it, she did.

Her cheeks warmed as a more inappropriate thought crept in. What would it feel like to run her hands through that beard? Would it be coarse or surprisingly soft? And then, because her brain was apparently trying to kill her, a vivid image surfaced—his beard slick and glistening, evidence of his thoroughness in far more intimate endeavors. Her pulse spiked, and she bit her lip, desperate to rein in her runaway imagination.

Get a grip, girl. He’s North. The legendary, fearless leader of the Guardians. Practically mythic. And easily twenty years older than you, not including the centuries he’s been around.

But her logic didn’t stop the curiosity. Did he even see her that way? Could he ever be interested in someone so much younger?

Still, that tiny seed of possibility lingered, and no matter how much she tried to push it aside, it refused to be buried. Maybe, just maybe, she’d find a way to bridge that gap. If he was worth risking her composure over, she’d have to find out if he thought she was worth the risk, too.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a warm, firm touch tilted her chin upward. Her breath hitched as her gaze snapped to meet North’s. His ice-blue eyes were darker than she’d ever seen, like storm clouds rolling over a frozen tundra. 

North’s voice, low and thick with his Russian accent, rumbled, “Khoroshiye devochki slushayut, kogda snimi razgovarivayut, Azaria.” [ Good girls listen when people speak to them. ] 

The words were foreign, and her heart stuttered in confusion and heat. She blinked, her cheeks flushing deep red. “I’m sorry,” she stammered, forcing herself not to step back. “I didn’t—uh, I was distracted. Sorry, sir.” 

At her soft apology, a low groan escaped him, almost involuntarily. North clenched his jaw, his hands flexing at his sides as a war waged inside him. She had no idea—no fucking clue—what her shy, uncertain response did to him. 

It made him want to tear away her barrier of clothes between them, to see her bare and vulnerable. North wanted her to worship him, just as much  he desired to treasure her body. This ebony celestial woman made him want to yield to the darker urges he had fought so long to keep buried. 

North clenched the scimitar in his hand at the thought of her kneeling before him, her complete lips parted in devotion. He could imagine it now, hand tangled in her hair as he fed her his cock, gently encouraging her to take more as she looked at him with tear-filled eyes, wiping the drool dripping from the side of her mouth as North told her how proud he is of her and what a good little whore she is. 

The thought of her trembling under his hands, pliant and eager to please, ignited a primal hunger that clawed at his control. His restraint felt like thin ice, ready to crack under the weight of his desires. He couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—cross that line. But the way her wide, amber eyes looked up at him, the way she said "sir" with such innocent submission, frayed his resolve.

Azaria’s brows furrowed, concern flitting across her face. “North?” she asked, her voice soft but urgent. She stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. “Are you hurt?”

Her touch jolted him out of his thoughts, like a bucket of ice water thrown over a roaring fire. He blinked, his expression hardening to mask the storm inside him. “I’m fine,” he said gruffly, his tone sharper than he intended.

She tilted her head, her confusion deepening. “Are you sure? You sounded—”

“Distracted,” he interrupted, his voice a bit steadier now. “As you said.”

Azaria hesitated, clearly unsure whether to believe him, before nodding slowly. “Alright,” she said, though the concern in her eyes lingered. “But if something’s wrong—”

“Nothing is wrong,” he said again, this time softer, the edge of frustration bleeding through—not at her, but at himself. “Let’s keep moving.”

North turned sharply, his broad shoulders rigid as he forced his focus back to the path ahead. Yet no amount of resolve could erase the lingering memory of her touch or the sound of her calling him “sir” in that breathy, uncertain tone. Damn it, she was going to undo him without even trying.

He clenched his fists, his steps heavy as the weight of his own actions bore down on him. What had possessed him to lift her chin like that? To let his restraint slip, if only for a moment, and touch her so intimately? 

North had only meant to regain her attention, to refocus her on the task at hand, but the way her lashes had lowered, her amber eyes dark and hooded, had knocked the air from his lungs. He had barely managed to speak coherently, his words about meeting the others lost in the storm of want surging through him.

The brush of her skin against his palm had been a mistake—one that lingered far too vividly in his mind. He knew better than to let himself be swept up like this, but Azaria had a way of making the world tilt, of making him forget himself entirely. And that terrified him as much as it thrilled him.

Tooth sat on the ground, her once vibrant wings drooping as she held an empty tooth box in her hands. Baby Tooth rested on a nearby broken box, her tiny form trembling with concern. Jack crouched down beside Tooth, his expression softening as he tried to offer some semblance of comfort.

From the shadows, Azaria lingered, her arms crossed as her gaze swept over the devastated scene. Her fiery energy simmered just beneath the surface, her chest tight with frustration at their collective inability to stop Pitch in time. Yet, as she looked at Tooth’s deflated figure and the crumbling palace around her, an unfamiliar unease gnawed at her. Memories... The word echoed in her mind, and with it came a cold sensation settling deep in the pit of her stomach.

Bunnymund’s voice cut through the heavy silence. “Okay, alright, I admit it—you were right about Pitch.”

“This is one time I wish I was wrong,” North muttered, his voice low and brimming with resolve. “But he will pay.”

Jack turned his attention back to Tooth. “I’m sorry about the fairies,” he said gently.

Tooth, her usual bubbly self all but vanished, managed a weak smile. “You should’ve seen them. They put up such a fight.”

“Why would Pitch take the teeth?” Jack asked, his brow furrowed.

“It’s not the teeth he wanted,” Tooth explained, her voice heavy with sadness. “It’s the memories inside them.”

Azaria stiffened, her arms dropping to her sides as her focus sharpened. Memories? She glanced away, her heart thudding uncomfortably. Did she even want to know what memories of her life before this might hold?

Jack’s confusion mirrored her own. “What do you mean?”

Tooth stood, gesturing for Jack to follow. Azaria trailed after them, her curiosity outweighing her hesitation. The water of the lagoon froze beneath Jack’s feet as he walked, the surface shimmering with icy beauty. 

Tooth led him to a massive mural etched into the palace walls, its intricate details illustrating a vivid story.

“That’s why we collect the teeth, Jack,” Tooth continued. “They hold the most important memories of childhood.”

Jack gazed at the mural, his expression softening with awe. Even Azaria, usually quick to dismiss sentimentality, felt a pang of wonder as she took in the scene. The mural depicted the magic of childhood, the moments of joy and innocence captured and preserved.

“We had everyone’s here,” Tooth added, her voice quieter now. “Yours too.”

Jack’s head whipped toward her. “My memories?”

Tooth nodded. “From when you were young. Before you became Jack Frost.”

Jack hesitated, his confusion palpable. “But... I wasn’t anyone before I was Jack Frost.”

“Of course you were,” Tooth replied gently. “We were all someone before we were chosen.”

Jack’s bewilderment deepened. “What?”

North chuckled from where he stood with Bunnymund. “You should’ve seen Bunny.”

“Hey!” Bunnymund shot back, ears twitching in irritation. “I told you never to mention that!”

Azaria smirked despite the somber mood, but her focus remained on Jack as he tried to process the weight of Tooth’s revelation.

“That night at the pond... I just assumed...” Jack faltered, his voice tinged with desperation. “Are you saying I had a life before that? With a home? And a family?”

Tooth’s silence spoke volumes, her expression soft with sympathy.

“You really don’t remember?” she asked quietly.

Jack’s shoulders slumped, the realization hitting him like a tidal wave. “All these years... and the answers were right here. If I find my memories, then I’ll know why I’m here.” He turned to Tooth, his voice firm. “You have to show me.”

“I...” Tooth hesitated, her wings drooping further. “I can’t, Jack. Pitch has them.”

Jack floated onto a nearby rock, his form framed by the flickering light of the crumbling palace. “Then we have to get them back!”

Before anyone could respond, a patch of Tooth’s feathers fell away and dissolved into the air. The Guardians froze, their worry etched across their faces.

Azaria’s chest tightened, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. What if she didn’t like what she saw? What if it was too dark, too heavy to carry? Maybe some doors were better left shut.

Her gaze lingered on Tooth’s fragile form, on Jack’s determined expression, and finally, on North, who stood firm as ever, his resolve unshaken.

The mural behind them began to disintegrate, the vibrant images fading into nothingness.

“The children,” Tooth gasped, her voice breaking. “We’re too late.”

“No!” North’s booming voice shattered the despair. “No such thing as too late!” His eyes lit up with sudden inspiration, and he grinned. “Wait, wait, wait! Idea! Haha!”

Azaria raised an eyebrow and gentle smile, watching as the towering man’s enthusiasm seemed to fill the space.

Despite the devastation, something about his unyielding determination stirred a flicker of hope within her. Whatever his idea was, she silently vowed to make it work—no matter what. But in the back of her mind, that shadow of uncertainty about her own past remained, refusing to be silenced.

Chapter Text

This man cannot be serious, she thought, watching as North gestured wildly like he was pitching the idea of the century. And maybe he thought he was. Azaria, on the other hand, was now two seconds away from asking if he’d been sniffing too much of his own pine-scented cologne. She had faith in the Guardians, Jack, and herself to handle but North’s idea of gathering the teeth was a little bit…unorthodox. 

When Tooth finally broke the silence with a hesitant, “What?” Azaria barely managed to stifle a snort.

Oh, good. I’m not the only one questioning his sanity. “I think he’s going crazy from lack of cookie consumption or something,” she muttered, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

North froze mid-gesture, turning toward her with a look of pure incredulity. His broad chest puffed out slightly, as though he couldn’t believe someone had dared to question him. Azaria met his icy stare with a pointed, “Yeah, I said it,” look, daring him to prove her wrong.

“Cookies?” he repeated, the word heavy with disbelief.

“Yeah, you know,” she replied, gesturing vaguely. “Maybe if you had a sugar rush, you’d sound less… out of your mind.”

Jack let out a muffled laugh, earning a sharp glare from Bunny, who was clearly done with all of them.

North huffed but didn’t rise to her bait. Instead, he launched back into his impassioned speech as if her comment had never happened. “We get teeth! Children keep believing in you!”

Tooth’s wings drooped further as she stared at him like he’d just suggested they move the North Pole to the equator. “We’re talking seven continents! Millions of kids!”

“Give me a break!” North retorted, throwing his arms out. “You know how many toys I deliver in one night?”

“And eggs I hide in one day?” Bunny chimed in, ears twitching in annoyance.

Azaria bit her lip to keep from laughing. This is turning into a weird holiday flex-off.

North turned his attention to Jack, his expression serious. “And Jack, if you help us, we will get you your memories.”

Azaria’s amusement faded as the gravity of North’s words sank in. She could see the hesitation in Jack’s eyes, the wheels turning as he weighed the offer. Tooth offered him a small, encouraging smile, and Sandy threw in two enthusiastic thumbs-up. Bunny groaned loudly in the background, but Jack ignored him, finally looking back at North with a determined grin.

“I’m in.”

Azaria let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her arms loosening at her sides. For all their antics, this motley group was shaping up to be something she hadn’t expected: a team. And for the first time since this whole mess had started, she felt a spark of hope.

Of course, she wasn’t about to let North off the hook entirely. “Alright, big guy,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “But if this goes sideways, I’m blaming the lack of cookies.”

This time, even North cracked a grin.

Tooth hovered in midair, her wings fluttering as she pointed toward a large, detailed globe floating in the center of the room. Tiny lights flickered all over its surface, representing the belief of children around the world.

“We’ll start in China,” Tooth declared, her voice brisk and authoritative. “Shanghai has one of the largest clusters of children. It’ll give us a strong start to rebuild belief. Then we’ll work our way west.”

“Shanghai?” Bunny muttered, ears twitching. “Hope you lot packed a sense of direction, ‘cause I’m not navigating.”

“Good thing I’m in charge of the sleigh, then,” North rumbled, his grin widening. He adjusted the reins with a practiced motion and shot a glance toward Jack, who was already lounging in his seat as if he owned the thing. “No crash landings this time, Jack.”

Jack raised his hands in mock surrender, a smirk playing on his lips. “Hey, I only crash-landed because someone forgot to tell me how to steer this thing.”

Bunny snorted, crossing his arms. “Maybe if you spent less time showing off and more time paying attention—”

Jack leaned against the side of the sleigh, smirking in Bunny’s direction. “Careful, Bunny. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually cared about where I sit.”

Bunny’s nose twitched as he adjusted his boomerangs with deliberate nonchalance. “Don’t flatter yourself, mate. I just don’t want your skinny frostbitten backside ruining the seat.”

“Oh, please. You just want me close enough to keep an eye on me,” Jack teased, his smirk widening. “Admit it, you’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

The faintest hint of pink crept up Bunny’s ears, and his retort came a little too quickly. “In your dreams, Frostbite.”

Azaria snorted, rolling her eyes. “And I thought North was the drama queen.”

Sandy floated over to her, his ever-calm expression tinged with curiosity. With a flick of his golden fingers, shimmering dream sand swirled in the air, forming the shape of a heart surrounded by question marks.

Azaria raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh. 

Sandy tilted his head, gesturing with an innocent air toward Jack and Bunny, who were now bickering over who had “accidentally” taken up too much room on the sleigh bench. Jack leaned closer to Bunny, his grin widening with every pointed comment, while Bunny’s ears twitched like a ticking bomb.

Azaria sighed dramatically, shaking her head at the scene. “If this is their version of flirting, it’s painful. But yeah, I’ve got eyes. Pretty sure everyone’s gonna see it but them.”

Sandy chuckled silently, the soundless mirth reflected in his shimmering sand. Then he motioned toward her, forming another heart—but this time, it was smaller, flickering faintly like a shy ember.

Azaria frowned, suddenly defensive. “What? Me? No. Absolutely not.”

Sandy floated closer, his expression kind but knowing. He raised his tiny hands in a gesture of innocence, then pointed toward North, who was climbing into the driver’s seat of the sleigh.

Azaria’s cheeks flushed instantly, her defenses kicking in. “Mind your own business, Sanderson,” she muttered, nudging him lightly. Sandy’s silent laughter danced through the air as his sand dissolved into nothingness.

North glanced over his shoulder as he settled into his seat, catching the tail end of their exchange. “Ready?” he called out, his voice carrying the faintest hint of amusement.

Azaria cleared her throat, brushing off the lingering embarrassment. “Always,” she shot back, climbing into the sleigh.

North smirked, his eyes glinting mischievously as he pulled out another snow globe. “Hold on tight,” he warned, his tone teasing as he tossed the globe into the air. The portal swirled to life, its colors spiraling in mesmerizing patterns.

Jack cheered, gripping the side of the sleigh as they surged forward. “Now this will never get old!”

“Speak for yourself,” Bunny muttered, gripping the edge of his seat with one paw while the other clutched his boomerangs. Sandy simply floated calmly, hands clasped behind his back, as if the chaotic ride didn’t faze him in the slightest.

Azaria, wedged between Sandy and the sleigh’s side, leaned forward instinctively as they hurtled through the vortex. North, ever the showman, let out a hearty laugh and cracked the reins for good measure, sending the sleigh into a playful loop before emerging into the night sky over Shanghai.

The vibrant city sprawled beneath them, a living mosaic of neon lights, bustling streets, and illuminated skyscrapers. Even in the late hours, the air buzzed with energy, and the faint scent of street food carried upward, mingling with the cooler breeze.

North expertly guided the sleigh toward a secluded rooftop, the landing smoother than Azaria had anticipated. Jack and Bunny leaped out immediately, followed by Sandy and Tooth, who floated down as if gravity didn’t apply to them. 

North climbed down from the sleigh first, extending his hand to Azaria with a chivalrous gesture that seemed instinctive. Her amber eyes met his, a flicker of amusement dancing in their depths as she hesitated, then slipped her hand into his. Her fingers were smaller, softer, yet firm in their grip. The connection jolted through him like a tightly drawn bowstring snapping free.

As she stepped down, the movement caused the slit of her dress to shift, revealing the smooth, toned curve of her thigh and the intricate black lace of a garter. His breath caught, a pulse of heat unfurling in his chest like the first crack of ice thawing under sunlight. For a moment, his hand lingered on hers, his thumb instinctively brushing against her skin, and she looked up at him, curious and expectant.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice quiet but steady, before pulling her hand away and smoothing her dress.

North cleared his throat, forcing himself to retreat a step. 

Yet, his gaze lingered, tracing the curve of her leg beneath the fabric as she moved with an elegance that made him ache to see more. He tried to be subtle breathing in her scent, subtle yet consuming, like honey warmed over smoldering wood, stirring something in him that he wasn’t ready to face.

He shouldn’t let his thoughts wander. He knew that. But as she moved, her steps graceful and unhurried, his mind betrayed him. 

The thought of her perched on the edge of the sleigh, thighs spread wide open as he made her orgasm for hours with his tongue made him feel like a blind man aching for sight. Her head thrown back as his mouth explored every inch of her, sent a rush of desire through him so intense it felt like molten steel being poured into his veins. 

For the briefest, most dangerous moment, he allowed himself to imagine tearing away the delicate lace garter, lifting her onto the sleigh’s polished wood. He knew if he got the chance his hands, rough and calloused, would map her body with reverent precision, his mouth tracing fire along her neck as he whispered promises in Russian—promises he’d never broken and would never intend to. 

North inhaled sharply, reining himself in before his thoughts could spiral further. Control yourself, Nicholas. She’s your comrade, not your conquest. Still, his body ached for her, heat surging beneath his skin at the memory of her weight against his hand. 

The Shanghai skyline glittered like a field of stars as the sleigh soared over it. North led the charge, booming up out of a chimney with his hearty laughter echoing against the rooftops. “Quickly! Quickly!” he called out, dashing from one rooftop to the next.

Tooth flitted beside them, her wings a blur. She gestured toward the map clutched in her hands, her tone brisk but determined. “We’ll start here,” she instructed. “I’ll guide you to the houses where the teeth are, and we’ll split up to cover more ground.”

Azaria leaned forward, her amber eyes gleaming with excitement. “Got it. Let’s make this quick.”

Jack, never one to resist a challenge, smirked. “Quick, huh? Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Azaria shot him a competitive glare, her lips curving into a defiant grin. “Oh, please. I’ll be done before you can even land your first flip.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Flips, huh? Is that the game now?”

Azaria shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Unless you’re scared of losing.”

“Oh, it’s on,” Jack retorted, spinning his icy staff with practiced ease before launching himself from the rooftop. He flipped midair, a streak of silver and frost, and landed gracefully on a neighboring roof before diving feet-first into a chimney.

Not to be outdone, Azaria hefted her meteor hammer, her lips quirking into a competitive grin. She vaulted off the sleigh in a dazzling display of agility, flipping twice before landing perfectly at the edge of another roof. With one smooth motion, she slid into a chimney. Reemerging moments later, she smirked at Jack, who was now waiting for her.

“That’s one,” she declared, her voice dripping with triumph.

“Beginner’s luck,” Jack shot back, already vaulting to the next house with a laugh that floated on the night air.

North, watching from the rooftop of a nearby house, let out a booming chuckle. His commanding voice carried across the rooftops. “This is not a contest!” he called out, though the glimmer of pride in his eyes betrayed his amusement. Despite their antics, they were working together, their rivalry forging a rhythm that drove them forward.

Sandy hovered beside North, his golden sand forming a miniature crowd cheering wildly, complete with tiny signs reading Go Team! North shook his head, his chuckle deep and warm. “They’ll burn themselves out at this rate,” he mused, though there was no mistaking the admiration in his tone.

Meanwhile, Tooth flitted between houses with precision, her wings a blur as she directed her fairies. “Focus, everyone! Every tooth counts!” she urged, her voice excited. 

Azaria and Jack, however, remained engrossed in their friendly competition. They darted from roof to roof, each trying to outdo the other with increasingly elaborate flips and landings. Jack executed a flawless double flip, his icy trail shimmering in the moonlight. He landed with a flourish and raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” Azaria admitted, though her tone carried a playful edge. “But watch this.”

Azaria launched herself into a twisting triple flip, landing with perfect balance on the tip of a narrow chimney. Jack’s jaw dropped for a moment before he quickly masked it with an exaggerated slow clap. “Alright, show-off,” he muttered.

On a nearby rooftop, Bunnymund appeared, his long legs carrying him swiftly across the terrain. “Here we go, here we go...” he muttered to himself, focused on his task. Jack swooped into view moments later, an icy trail marking his path.

“Hop to it, rabbit!” Jack called out with a mischievous grin. “I’m five teeth ahead!”

“Yeah, right,” Bunny shot back, his nose twitching in defiance. “I’d tell you to stay outta my way, but really, what’s the point? You won’t be able to keep up anyway.”

Jack smirked, circling Bunny midair. “Is that a challenge, cottontail?”

“Oh, you don’t wanna race a rabbit, mate,” Bunny quipped, his tone dripping with mock seriousness.

Before their banter could escalate, North burst out of a nearby chimney in an explosion of soot and snow, his laughter booming across the rooftops. “A race? Is it a race?!” he exclaimed, his excitement palpable. 

Without missing a beat, he dove into another chimney, reemerging moments later in a spectacular burst of sparks and sleigh bells.

“This is going to be…” North paused dramatically as he disappeared down yet another chimney, only to explode out of the next with a triumphant roar. “EPIC!!”

Azaria landed lightly on the next rooftop, her meteor hammer spinning idly in her hands as she scanned the surrounding houses for the faint glow of a tooth beneath a pillow. She turned her head, catching sight of North as he emerged from a chimney nearby, a bag of teeth slung over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“Not bad, old man,” she called, her voice dripping with teasing confidence. “But you’re slowing down. Thought you had more stamina than that.”

North froze for a fraction of a second before standing to his full, towering height. The corner of his mouth twitched, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he stepped toward her. “You think I am slowing down?” His voice was deep, almost purring. “Perhaps you need better eyes.”

Azaria smirked, taking a playful step backward toward the edge of the roof. “Or maybe you just can’t keep up,” she taunted, flipping her hammer around her wrist in a smooth, practiced motion.

Without waiting for his response, she launched herself across the gap between rooftops, flipping mid-air and landing with a grace that sent her hoops swaying. She turned to look back at him, her hands on her hips. “That’s two houses for me. What about you?”

North’s hands clenched at his sides as he watched her, his gaze drawn to the sway of her hips and the fiery determination in her expression. In the recesses of his mind, he imagined gripping those hips as she balanced precariously on the rooftop edge, pulling her flush against him, his lips grazing the shell of her ear as he growled her name, claiming her in ways he’d dared not think about until now.

Shaking off the thought, he strode to the edge of the rooftop, leaping the gap with ease and landing closer to her than was strictly necessary. His towering frame loomed over hers as he flashed a cocky smirk, his blue eyes glittering in the moonlight. “Five houses,” he said simply, his tone dripping with satisfaction.

Azaria’s jaw dropped, and she shot him a look of mock outrage. “Five?! You’re lying.”

“Would I lie?” he replied, his voice laced with smug amusement.

Her pout deepened, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine. Enjoy your little lead, North. I’m about to leave you in the dust.”

With that, she turned and bolted, leaping across the next rooftop with an elegant flip, the sound of her laughter carried by the wind.

North watched her go, the smile slipping from his face as her vibrant presence faded into the night. He inhaled deeply, steadying the storm of emotions threatening to surge forward. He hadn’t realized until now how long it had been since he’d felt this... alive.

As he turned to collect more teeth, his thoughts began to drift. Loneliness had been his constant companion for centuries, something he had learned to accept as inevitable. The odds of finding someone who could withstand his darker instincts, who could see past his power and into his soul, were slim at best. The weight of that truth had always been a quiet burden, but one he bore willingly. It was better than risking hurting someone—a fear he had carried for as long as he could remember.

He glanced toward where Azaria had disappeared, a flicker of uncertainty passing through him. She stirred something in him, something dangerous and exhilarating. 

However, the idea of her pulling him out of the shadows, challenging him with her strength and fire, made him wonder: Could he allow himself to hope for more? Could he trust himself not to destroy the fragile thing she might offer?

Sandy floated up beside North, the golden sand weaving into a pulsing heart that seemed to hum with teasing amusement. North’s jaw tightened as he shot the dream guardian a warning glance. “Not a word,” he muttered, his tone firm before vaulting onto the next rooftop.

It had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to keep Azaria in his sight. Nothing at all. Not the way her laughter had woven itself into his chest, or the way her golden-brown eyes lit up when she’d thrown her challenge his way. And definitely not the image that had passed through his mind moments earlier— her pressed against the cool brick of a chimney, her breath catching as her eyes, wide with a mix of nervousness and desire, locked with his.

North groaned softly under his breath, his teeth grinding together. He was a strong man, a bringer of wonder and joy, a leader among the Guardians. And yet, Azaria was undoing him with every glance, every teasing word. She was a temptress, threading herself into his thoughts until the polished exterior he had spent centuries perfecting began to crumble, revealing the darker desires he kept buried.

He imagined gripping her hips, hoisting her against a wall, her thighs trembling as he thrust into her, his name tumbling from her lips like a prayer. She was his match in spirit, but the thought of making her his in every possible way ignited something primal in him. He wanted to ruin her composure, to see her unravel beneath him, every inch of her marked and claimed until there was no doubt that she was his—and only his. The idea of filling her cunt completely, his release mingling with her sweat as he drank in her delirious cries of pleasure, it made his pulse hammer like a war drum.

North shook his head, forcing himself to leap to another rooftop, the cool night air doing little to douse the heat coursing through him.

Tooth darted past, her wings a blur, her sharp eyes scanning for teeth. “Four bicuspids over there! An incisor two blocks east! Is that a molar? They’re EVERYWHERE!” She zipped toward the next target, her speed accelerating as she tried to keep up with the overwhelming demand.

But her focus wavered for a split second, and—THOOMP! She smacked directly into a toothpaste billboard, the impact reverberating through the air. Baby Tooth squeaked in alarm, rushing to her side.

North exhaled sharply, focusing on the mission at hand. But deep down, he knew that this fire Azaria had lit in him wouldn’t be so easily extinguished. It smoldered, waiting for the moment he could no longer resist its pull.

Azaria and Jack landed lightly on the billboard next to Tooth, concern mingling with amusement as they checked on her.

“You okay?” Jack asked, his tone laced with genuine care, though his smirk betrayed his growing amusement.

“Damn, girl,” Azaria added, crouching next to Tooth and tilting her head. “Your ass was zoomin’. You sure you didn’t break anything? Still got some feathers after that hit?”

Tooth let out a small, sheepish laugh, brushing herself off. “I’m fine, really. It’s just... been a while since I’ve been out in the field.”

Jack raised a brow. “How long is ‘a while’?”

Tooth glanced off as though calculating. “Oh, you know, four hundred and forty years... give or take.”

Azaria blinked, her lips parting in disbelief. “Girl, no wonder you’re crashin’ into billboards. You’re rusty.”

Tooth’s sharp eyes suddenly darted to a window below, and her voice perked up with excitement. “Oh!” Her view zoomed in, revealing a soft glow under a little girl’s pillow. She shot off without another word, her wings a blur as she zipped toward the house.

Jack crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Gonna be a long night,” he muttered, glancing at Baby Tooth, who chirped in agreement.

Azaria grinned, her gaze following Tooth. “Can’t say the woman doesn’t love her work.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Jack jumped up and hovered just outside an open window, his expression cocky and ready to claim another tooth. He grinned confidently, aiming to impress, when with a faint pop , a rabbit hole opened up in the middle of the room. Bunny hopped out smoothly, already holding the tooth in his paw, his green eyes glinting with mischief.

“Jackpot,” Bunny teased, turning the tooth over in his paw as if to admire it.

Jack’s grin evaporated, replaced by an incredulous glare. Without missing a beat, he pointed his staff and sent a quick burst of frost toward Bunny’s feet. Bunny yelped, hopping back into the hole with a smirk before disappearing.

“Brumby rabbit,” Jack muttered under his breath, shaking his head in frustration as he floated back down to the street.

~ ~ ~ ~

North stood triumphantly at the side of a bed, his gloved hands moving with practiced precision as he retrieved two teeth, one with each hand. He let out a booming laugh, holding them aloft as if they were trophies. “Twins!” he announced proudly. “Yipa!”

From across the room, Azaria balanced on the edge of a desk, her lips twitching in amusement. “Show-off,” she quipped, her tone teasing but warm. She gave him a playful eye-roll, but her grin betrayed her genuine amusement.

Before North could reply, she disappeared in a quiet flash of sparks—just dim enough to avoid waking the child in the bed. North startled, stumbling back with wide eyes, and let out a loud, startled exclamation in Russian. “Chyort voz'mi!” [“What the hell!”]

He managed to steady himself before falling on his backside, but his booming laugh quickly filled the room as he muttered, “Spirited little devil.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Bunny reached under a pillow, his paw emerging with several teeth. His ears twitched with satisfaction as he surveyed the hockey-themed room, trophies glinting in the dim light. “Jackpot!” he declared, his voice full of triumph.

From behind, Jack landed silently, leaning casually on his staff. “Careful, rabbit,” he said with a smirk. “I’m catching up.”

Bunny didn’t flinch, his grin widening as he turned slightly toward Jack. His tone was smooth but laced with challenge. “Oh, Frostbite, don’t start what you can’t finish.”

Jack’s smirk deepened, and he leaned closer, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring Bunny’s. “Oh, Bunny, I always finish.”

Bunny raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping an octave, the playful threat clear. “We’ll see about that.”

Their banter was interrupted by the faint sound of Azaria’s laughter drifting from a nearby rooftop. “If y’all are done flirting,” she called, her voice teasing as she appeared in a flicker of light, “we’ve got teeth to gather.”.

~ ~ ~ ~

North stood at the side of a boy's bed, his massive frame surprisingly quiet as he reached under the pillow. With a triumphant laugh, he held up a tooth in each hand.

“Is piece of pie!” he declared, his grin wide.

As he turned, a rabbit hole opened beneath him. North let out a startled shout, vanishing through the portal and landing face-to-face with Bunny in a neighboring bedroom.

North growled low, his eyes narrowing. “That’s my tooth!”

Before Bunny could retort, Sandy floated in silently, his shimmering golden sand delicately plucking the tooth from North’s hand. North’s frustration deepened.

“Sandy! Sandy!” he whispered harshly, his voice carrying an edge of disbelief.

~ ~ ~ ~

Jack hovered confidently, his staff in hand, ready to claim the tooth under the pillow. Just as he reached for it, a rabbit hole appeared beneath him. Before he could react, Jack fell through, his cry of surprise muffled by Bunny’s laughter as the rabbit emerged from an adjacent hole, already holding the tooth.

“Better luck next time, Frostbite!” Bunny teased as he disappeared again.

“Damn it, Bunny!” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Tooth fluttered near a bed, reaching under a pillow to pull out a tooth. She gasped as a small mouse clung to the other end of it, chittering furiously.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy there, champ!” Tooth exclaimed, holding up her hands. “He’s one of us! Part of the European Division.”

Azaria, perched on the windowsill, raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Ça va, mon ami?” [You good, my friend?] she asked smoothly in French, addressing the mouse.

The mouse gestured dramatically, squeaking in frustration as he launched into an explanation in rapid French. Tooth translated with a grimace.

“Apparently,” Tooth said, “there was an incident in Germany involving some of your firecracker helpers.”

Azaria’s eyes widened. “Oh, come on. I told them to tone it down! Guess they didn’t listen.”

The mouse gave her an exasperated look before scurrying off. Tooth shook her head with a chuckle. “You’ve got quite the crew, Azaria.”

“What can I say? I like ‘em explosive,” Azaria quipped with a smirk.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

North dropped down the chimney with practiced ease, landing softly beside the bed. Just as his hand slipped under the pillow to retrieve the tooth, the fireplace roared to life beneath him. Flames licked upward, forcing him to leap back with a startled shout.

“Haha! Ho, ho, ho!” Bunny’s devilish laugh echoed from the shadows, the firelight casting mischievous flickers across the room.

Outside, Azaria perched casually on the rooftop, her satchel of teeth slung over one shoulder. Jack landed beside her in a crouch, his staff resting across his knees. The PARIS SKYLINE stretched out before them, tranquil and glistening under the moonlight.

Azaria let out a contented sigh. “Ahh… anyone can cook.”

Jack turned his head sharply, his face contorted in confusion. “What the hell was that?”

“Ratatouille,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Ratatouille?” Jack echoed, his tone incredulous. “You’re quoting Ratatouille right now?”

“Yeah,” Azaria said with a shrug. “You ain’t seen Ratatouille ? That’s a shame. My boy Remy was chefin’ it up in that kitchen. There was this one part, he had the skinny dude blindfolded, right?  And he had to check a tomato so what had happened was– ”

Jack raised an eyebrow and waved his hand to cut her off. “No, no, I’ve seen it. I know it. But out of all the quotes from the movie, that’s the one you pick?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could answer, a plume of fire erupted from a distant chimney, its glow cutting through the night.

“Ahh!” North’s faint shout carried across the city, a mix of surprise and outrage.

Azaria and Jack froze for a beat before dissolving into hysterical laughter. Jack doubled over, clutching his sides, while Azaria wiped tears from the corners of her eyes.

“Oh, that’s gold,” Azaria wheezed between laughs. “That’s golden .” 

Jack nodded, barely managing to gasp, “Worth every tooth.”

~ ~ ~ ~

The night sky had shifted from the vivid hues of other continents to the familiar deep navy over the U.S. A faint glow on the horizon hinted at the approaching dawn in a couple of hours. 

Jack, North, Sandy, Bunny, and Azaria stood proudly, each holding their own bag brimming with teeth. Tooth hovered nearby, her expression overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Wow!” Tooth said, her wings buzzing with excitement. “You guys collect teeth and leave gifts as fast as my fairies!”

The group froze, exchanging guilty glances. Tooth’s face fell as realization dawned.

“You guys... have been leaving gifts, right?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Heads sank, and Azaria coughed awkwardly, biting her lip.

“Well... about that...” Jack began, scratching the back of his neck as Bunny muttered something under his breath.

Tooth groaned, her wings drooping. “Unbelievable.”

Azaria stepped forward with a sheepish grin. “Uh, you know, in my defense, I left something... It just might’ve been a little unorthodox.”

Sandy floated over to Azaria, drawing a glowing question mark with his sand above her head. She laughed nervously. “Next time, I promise. Actual gifts. No fireworks.”

Tooth sighed, her exasperation giving way to a small smile. “Just don’t let it happen again, alright?”

Azaria saluted dramatically. “Scout’s honor.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Seeing as no one had any money because…why would they, considering they were all magical beings?  It led to an unexpected detour that had brought them to a dimly lit laundromat in a quiet corner of the city. North stood near the change machine, his towering presence looking comically out of place beneath the fluorescent lights.

Azaria leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Jack and Bunny argue over a handful of quarters.

“I’m telling you,” Jack said, holding a particularly shiny coin up to the light, “mine’s better. Look at the reflection.”

Bunny scoffed, his ears twitching in exasperation. “Reflection? You’re off your rocker, mate. That’s just smudge-free. This one’s pristine.”

Azaria groaned, pushing off the wall and stepping between them. “For the love of—give me those.” She snatched the coins from both of them, shoving them into North’s large hand. “Here, big guy. You settle this, or we’ll be here until sunrise.”

North arched a brow, his lips twitching as though suppressing a laugh. “Enough,” he rumbled, glaring at the two with mock severity. “Shiny or not, they all spend the same.”

Jack and Bunny grumbled under their breath but didn’t press further. Sandy floated by, silently spinning in slow circles as he twirled golden sand into the shape of a washing machine.

Azaria sighed and rubbed her temples. “Next time, I’m bringing exact change.”

With the quarters acquired, the sleigh once again soared into the night sky. Azaria was back in the front seat with North, her legs tucked up comfortably, ensuring her stiletto heels didn’t touch the luxurious fur blanket draped across the seat. She leaned back, her head resting lightly against the plush cushion, a rare moment of relaxation softening her usually sharp edges.

“You’re getting too comfortable,” North commented, his tone teasing.

She smirked, her eyes still closed, her voice dipping into a teasing lilt. “You’re just mad because you can’t see my pretty little toes.”

North’s chuckle faltered, his hands flexing on the reins. His gaze flicked to her momentarily, the warmth in his expression tempered by something darker, more commanding. “Careful, Azaria,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with warning. “Don’t tempt me.”

Her eyes flew open, her breath hitching at the unexpected heat in his tone. She turned her head, meeting his intense gaze, and instantly regretted the challenge in her words. Yet, she couldn’t stop the faint tremor that rippled through her, a potent mix of nervousness and intrigue pooling low in her stomach.

“Sit properly,” he said, his voice like velvet and steel. The command was simple, but the authority behind it made her pulse quicken.

“Yes, sir,” she breathed, the words slipping out before she could think better of it. She adjusted her posture slowly, dragging her heels down from the edge of the seat, her movements deliberate as if testing his reaction.

North’s lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw clenching briefly as he refocused on the reins. He told himself to ignore the way his pulse quickened whenever Azaria was near, how her laughter seemed to echo in his chest long after it faded. 

He knew it was wrong to be so enraptured, especially with the weight of leadership hanging over him. If she accepted the position of Guardian, she would be under his command, and any personal entanglements could complicate what was already a delicate balance.

But the darker parts of his mind rebelled against reason, whispering treacherous thoughts that sank deep into his consciousness. Manny had chosen Azaria, hadn’t he? Not just for the mission, but for something more. The whispers grew stronger, weaving a dangerous tale of fate and purpose. She was no mere selection—she was a gift, someone to be treasured. A light sent to him by the Man in the Moon himself.

The idea took root, twisting his moral compass as desire unfurled in the recesses of his mind. For years, North had buried the darker edges of himself, the part that craved more than companionship. 

A lover who could match his duality, who could share his joy for life’s wonders and his darker, hidden passions. Someone he could spoil beyond reason, cherish beyond measure, even as he unraveled and consumed them in ways no one else would dare.

The reins in his hands creaked under the pressure of his tightening grip as the whispers grew louder, coaxing him toward the edge of self-control. His gaze flickered sideways, catching Azaria out of the corner of his eye. 

Her expression was serene, her hands gently resting in her lap as she looked out into the snowy expanse below them. Oblivious to the storm brewing within him, she radiated a quiet strength that only fueled his longing.

The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken energy that neither could deny. North’s mind warred with itself, one part demanding restraint while the other reveled in the idea of giving in completely. The silence stretched between them, heavy and electric, each moment amplifying the pull they both felt but neither dared to voice.

And yet, as North forced himself to focus on the horizon, the thought lingered, refusing to fade. If fate had indeed placed Azaria in his path, how much longer could he resist the temptation to claim what he now believed was meant to be his?

The sled glided through the air, the quiet broken only by the sound of the bells of the reindeer as they ran. The tension between them remained, thick and unyielding, as the stars above bore witness to the silent battle raging within Nicholas St. North.

Chapter Text

The sled flew lower amongst the clouds as they exited the snow globe portal, the town of Burgess now visible in the distance, its twinkling lights a beacon in the crisp night. The snow-covered fields glistened under the faint light of the moon, their icy sheen hinting at the fleeting nature of winter. In the distance, hints of greenery began to peek through the white blanket, signaling the slow, hopeful return of spring.

Azaria leaned forward, resting her arms casually on the edge of the sled as she took in the view. A smile tugged at her lips, her amber eyes softening.

“There’s something magical about Pennsylvania this time of year,” she said, her voice almost wistful. “The way winter and spring seem to hold hands, like they can’t quite let go of each other.”

 “I remember this one time years ago, Topper and I set off fireworks over one of the lakes. We had just finished a festival, and the ice was starting to melt. The way the colors reflected off the water and the ice... It was breathtaking.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Of course, Topper nearly fell in trying to light the finale.” 

“You and what-er?” Bunny’s tone dripped with dry sarcasm, his ears twitching as he perched at the far end of the sled. Jack sat beside him, arms crossed, eyeing Azaria with a curious smirk.

“Topper. He’s one of my little assistants in mayhem—kind of like Baby Tooth but with a penchant for fireworks and sparklers,” Azaria explained, her voice casual but laced with pride.

“Interesting,” Bunny drawled, tapping a claw against his leg. “Wouldn’t have pegged you as the type to have helpers.”

Azaria stiffened, her tone defensive. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, it’s just that—” Bunny shrugged nonchalantly.

“Tooth and I didn’t get our helpers until after we became Guardians,” Tooth chimed in. “North’s the only one who’s had his from the start.”

“Really?” Azaria’s brows furrowed as she turned to North, whose expression had grown contemplative.

“Da, this is true,” North confirmed with a firm nod.

Jack chuckled, leaning back as his knee bumped Bunny’s leg. “So, where are the little pyromaniacs anyway? They’re usually glued to your side.”

Azaria sighed, her exasperation tinged with fondness. “Back at the fort. They’re cleaning up their latest glitter catastrophe in my lab.”

North’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he leaned forward slightly, the sled creaking beneath his weight. “Azaria, how did you come to have these helpers? They seem... unique.”

Azaria smiled faintly, leaning back as if pulling the memory from her mind. “Topper was a surprise, to say the least. I was in Times Square, about two weeks before New Year’s Eve. You know how chaotic that place gets—glitter, confetti, and lights everywhere. Perfect energy for my work.”

Bunny snorted. “Sounds like a nightmare.”

Ignoring him, Azaria continued. “I was on a rooftop, checking the final setup for the ball drop. The crowd’s energy was electric, just the way I like it, and then—bam! Out of nowhere, this little thing crashes into me. Turns out, it was Topper. Or, rather, he rammed full speed into my chest and nearly sent both of us off the rooftop. I caught the edge just in time. When I looked down, there he was, dangling from my scarf, his little hands glowing like sparklers.”

Bunny burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “Wait, he almost knocked you off a building? That’s incredible.”

“More like infuriating,” Azaria said, rolling her eyes but smiling at the memory. “Once I hauled him up, he just sat there, sparking and buzzing like he was trying to tell me something. Turns out, he’d been following the energy of the preparations for days and decided I was his new leader. I had no say in the matter.”

“And Flicker?” North asked, his expression soft but focused.

“Flicker came along about ten years later,” Azaria explained. “It was a quieter New Year’s Eve. I was testing a new design for sky lanterns, and as I lit the first one, there she was, flickering like a firefly but with this fiery little attitude. Topper found her hilarious, and the two became inseparable almost instantly.”

“Sounds like a handful,” Bunny remarked, shaking his head.

“They are, but they’re loyal. Topper and Flicker are the only two I’d call sentient. The rest, about about fifty of ‘em, are less... dependent. They handle most of the grunt work, like setting up fireworks and cleaning up the glitter bombs. But those two? They’re my right hand and left hand. Always up to something, usually something explosive.”

North nodded approvingly, stroking his beard. “Da, this makes sense. Helpers reflect their leader. Explosive, creative... loyal.”

Azaria smirked, crossing her arms. “And sometimes, a total pain in the—”

“Language,” Bunny interrupted, raising a paw with mock indignation.

Jack laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t wait for Bunny to meet the little mayhem-makers.”

The sleigh began its descent, gliding smoothly toward a secluded park blanketed in fresh snow. The moonlight shimmered off the icy surface of a nearby pond, casting long shadows across the trees. The Guardians braced as the sled touched down with a soft crunch, coming to a halt near a small clearing.

Tooth hopped off first, wings fluttering as she surveyed their surroundings. “Alright, everyone, we’re splitting up,” she announced, her voice brisk and efficient. “This is a big area to cover, and we’ll move faster if we pair off.”

“Perfect,” Bunny grumbled, hopping down with practiced ease. “Let me guess, I’m stuck with Sandy?”

Sandy smirked silently, twirling a golden whip of dream sand in response. Bunny sighed, muttering something about "too much glitter" under his breath.

“Tooth and I will cover the north section of the park,” Jack offered, spinning his staff and stepping lightly onto the snowy ground. His breath misted in the cold air, his trademark smirk firmly in place. “We’ll be done in no time.”

“Good,” Tooth replied, her wings flitting as she glanced at North and Azaria. “North, you and Azaria take the south side. You’re both strong and sharp enough to handle anything unusual.”

Azaria raised a brow. “Strong and sharp, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

North chuckled, his heavy boots crunching in the snow as he stepped closer to her. “Da, we will make good team. Let us go.”

Tooth clapped her hands, clearly satisfied with the assignments. “Everyone knows what to look for—any sign of unusual activity, traces of dark magic, or anything that seems... off. Meet back here in thirty minutes.”

With that, the teams dispersed. Tooth and Jack took off toward the suburbs, Jack’s laughter echoing faintly as he teased Tooth about her meticulous nature. Sandy and Bunny disappeared toward the western edge towards the shops, Sandy’s golden sand leaving a faint trail in the air behind them.

Azaria pulled her arms tighter around her as she followed North toward the southern part of the town. The snow crunched beneath their feet, the silence between them broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl.

“So,” North began, glancing down at her, “how do you feel about this mission?”

Azaria smirked, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. “Honestly? Feels a little like babysitting, but with higher stakes.”

North laughed, his deep voice rumbling through the still air. “Da, sometimes it feels this way. But tonight, I think... something is different. I feel it in air.”

She glanced up at him, his expression serious now, the humor gone from his tone. “You think somethings gonna happen while we out here?”

“Perhaps,” he said, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “Always best to stay prepared. Darkness has way of hiding in quiet places.”

Azaria narrowed her eyes playfully at North, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You always this cryptic, or is it just part of your charm?”

North’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Only when it is necessary. Keeps people guessing.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her amusement. “Well, if we’re going to be out here, might as well make it interesting.”

North raised a brow, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Interesting? What do you have in mind?”

Azaria stopped walking, leaning casually against a tree. “How about a little game? Let’s see who can collect more teeth for Tooth. Winner gets bragging rights.”

His grin widened, a glint of mischief in his gaze. “You challenge me? Ha, you are brave woman, this I give you. But also foolish.”

“Big words for someone who hasn’t won yet.” She winked before darting off. 

For a moment, North stood still, watching her disappear into the shadows. His smile faded into something deeper, his pulse quickening at the sight of her graceful movements. Then, with a shake of his head, he charged after her, his heavy boots surprisingly light on the snow.

Azaria pressed a finger to her lips as she crouched outside the first window of a quaint little house, her breath clouding in the icy air. “Shhh, don’t wake the kid,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at North, who loomed like a shadow behind her.

North grunted softly, adjusting the grip on his sword. “ This isn’t my first show, besides I am not the one stomping around.”

Azaria rolled her eyes, her smirk visible even in the dim moonlight. “ Whateva. Watch and learn, old man.”

With a flick of her wrist, a tiny arc of fireworks sparked in her palm, forming into a glowing hammer that she tossed lightly into the air. It spun once before bursting into a swirling circle of light that hovered around her. Azaria stepped into the arc, vanishing in a brief shimmer of sparks, only to reappear inside the child’s bedroom.

She landed gracefully on the carpet, her footsteps light as she approached the small tooth chest on the bedside table. She grabbed the tiny container, replaced it with a golden coin, and stepped back into the sparking arc she’d left glowing near the bed. Within moments, she was back outside, landing with a soft crackle of light beside North.

“Beat that,” she whispered, grinning as she held up the tooth triumphantly.

North raised a single brow, unimpressed. “Watch this. ”

He strode toward the house with deliberate ease, his heavy boots barely making a sound on the snow. Stopping in front of the chimney, he placed one hand on the bricks and muttered something in Russian. A faint glow emanated from the chimney’s edge, and in a flash of frosty light, North’s massive frame disappeared inside.

Azaria huffed, crossing her arms as she waited, watching the faint blue glow through the bedroom window. Moments later, North reappeared beside her, stepping casually out of the chimney like it was a door. He held up two teeth instead of one, a sly smile tugging at his lips.

“Two for one,” he said simply, his deep voice smug.

“Oh, now you’re just trying to be a showoff,” Azaria muttered, though her competitive grin returned. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

The two of them worked their way through the quiet town, slipping in and out of houses with their unique methods. Azaria’s fiery sparks left a faint shimmer in the air, while North’s frosty magic cooled the chimneys he used to enter. Their playful banter kept the tension light, each trying to outdo the other

At one house, Azaria teleported in with her hammer arc, snagging a tooth just as North emerged from the fireplace. She paused mid-step, her lips curving into a sly grin. “You’re slow, North.”

He chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming. “Fast enough to catch you in the act.”

Her heart skipped as his gaze lingered on her, the playful tone in his voice laced with something deeper. Without thinking, she teleported out in a flash of sparks, only to reappear outside, leaning against a tree as she caught her breath.

But it wasn’t long before North appeared beside her, stepping silently out of the shadows. “Running away?” he teased, his tone low.

“Please.” Azaria scoffed, though her voice was breathless. “Just giving you a head start.”

Their game grew more intense as they moved from house to house, the quiet town becoming their playground. Each time their paths crossed inside a bedroom or at the base of a chimney, the air between them grew heavier. The competition was no longer just about the teeth—it was about the chase.

At one point, Azaria landed inside a room just as North stepped out of the fireplace. She froze, clutching a small tooth container, her breath catching when their eyes met. His gaze was dark and steady, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

“Caught you stealing what’s mine hm,” he murmured, his deep voice sending a shiver through her.

“Or maybe... you just think it was yours,” she shot back, her smirk faltering slightly under his intense stare.

“You’re slow, old man!” Azaria called from a few houses ahead, holding up a small golden container. “Already got twenty!”

North chuckled darkly, his voice carrying through the trees. “Do not count me out yet, little one. This is far from over.”

The playful banter escalated as they zigzagged through their section of town, each trying to outpace the other. But as the game wore on, something shifted. Azaria began to notice the way North moved—predatory, calculated. His steps were deliberate, his gaze never lingering on one spot for too long. He wasn’t just playing; he was hunting.

And it awakened something in her.

Azaria’s pace quickened, her breaths coming shorter as she darted between shadows. She wasn’t running from him, not exactly—but the way he pursued her, the way his presence loomed just out of sight, sent a thrill down her spine.

North, for his part, felt the pull too. He wasn’t just chasing a challenge anymore. The sight of Azaria darting ahead, her energy electric, her movements fluid and wild—it stirred something primal in him. His focus sharpened, his every instinct urging him to close the distance.

Azaria skidded to a stop near a light post, her chest heaving as she spun around, a triumphant grin on her face. “Caught up already?” she teased, though her voice had a slightly breathless edge. Her eyes flicked over North as he emerged from the shadows, and she couldn’t help but take in the sheer size of him. The way his broad shoulders seemed to block out the moonlight, his chest rising and falling steadily, his presence commanding without effort. Damn.

“You are fast,” North admitted, his tone low, almost growling. His eyes gleamed, not with amusement, but with something darker. “But not fast enough.”

Azaria’s pulse quickened. It wasn’t just the chase; it was him . The way he moved—powerful and deliberate—stirred something deep in her, something primal. She swallowed hard, trying to focus on the game. “You find any more teeth, old man?” she quipped, leaning casually against the pole to mask the way her knees felt weak.

North’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile as he stepped closer. “Old man?” he repeated, his voice rich with a teasing menace. “Careful, Azaria. Call me that again, and I may have to put you over my knee.”

Her breath caught, a thrill shooting through her at his words. She tilted her head, trying to summon her usual bravado, but her voice wavered slightly. “Big talk. I’d like to see you try.”

“Da?” North closed the distance between them, his massive frame towering over her now. He planted a hand against the light post, leaning in, his gaze locking onto hers with unyielding intensity. “Do not tempt me, little one. I will deliver.”

Azaria’s bravado faltered, her heart pounding as his words sank in. His tone was playful but carried an edge that made her stomach flip. She swallowed hard, hyper aware of the heat radiating off him, the way his muscles shifted under his coat. How is he this massive and still moves like a damn shadow?

“You… uh… you’re really committed to this whole intimidation thing, huh?” she managed, though her voice lacked the confidence she usually wielded.

North chuckled, the sound low and rich, sending a shiver through her. “Not intimidation. Simply truth.” He tilted his head, studying her, and his gaze softened slightly, though the fire in his eyes remained. “But I think I’ve found something more interesting than teeth.”

Azaria’s back pressed against the pole as he leaned closer, her breath hitching. “Interesting, huh?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Very.” His voice was a low rumble, and the way he looked at her made her knees feel like jelly. She licked her lips, an involuntary gesture, and his eyes followed the movement, his expression darkening.

She forced a smirk, trying to regain some control of the moment. “You better hope Tooth doesn’t find out you’re slacking.”

North’s chuckle was deep, almost predatory. “Perhaps. But some distractions...” His gaze traveled over her, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. “Are worth it.”

Azaria’s mind raced. Her usual sharp retorts were nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a rush of thoughts she couldn’t quite keep in check. The way he filled the space around her, the way his presence seemed to draw her in. Girl, focus. This ain’t the moment to be clockin’ how wide his shoulders are… or how his hands look like they could pick me up without even tryin’… or what it’d feel like if he—

She bit her lip, her smirk faltering. “You sure about that? I might just keep callin’ you old man to see what happens.”

North’s grin widened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Careful, moye iskusheniye. I always keep my promises.” His voice was low and dangerous, but his teasing tone made it impossible for her to look away. [ My temptation]

The line between their game and something far more dangerous had all but disappeared. Azaria’s heart pounded as the line between playful competition and something far more dangerous blurred.

North’s grin faded slightly, replaced by something more intense, hungrier. His eyes bore into hers, the teasing spark in them giving way to a simmering heat. “You push boundaries, Azaria,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry rumble. “Do you even know what you’re playing with?”

Azaria’s heart pounded in her chest, the weight of his presence pressing down on her like a storm about to break. Her breath hitched, not just from his words but from what he said. Not who. What. The implication sent a thrill through her, curling in her stomach and spreading warmth she didn’t dare acknowledge fully.

What are you, North? she wondered, her pulse hammering as her gaze flickered over him. It wasn’t just the sheer size of him, the way his frame seemed to block out the world behind him. It was the raw, unrestrained energy radiating off him—the kind of energy that didn’t ask for control. It demanded it.

And that? That was the part she wasn’t ready to admit was turning her on.

Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. A slight sway forward, a tightening in her throat, and a heat blooming across her skin. This man isn’t just a protector, she thought, her eyes darting to his broad hands, his steady stance. He’s a wildfire, and I’m caught right in the heart of the flames.

She licked her lips, a reflex she immediately regretted when she caught the way his gaze tracked the movement. Her stomach flipped, anticipation tangling with nerves, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“Well?” he asked, his tone smooth and dark, pulling her focus back to his face. The intensity in his eyes made her knees weak, as though he could see right through her bravado to the quickened pulse beneath. “Do you?”

She tried to summon a quip, anything to break the tension, but her throat felt dry. “You’re the one who said you’d keep your promises,” she said, though her voice came out softer, almost breathless.

North took another step closer, his massive frame crowding her space. His hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Da,” he said, his voice thick with restraint. “And I always do. But you... you make it difficult to stay in control.”

Azaria’s lips parted, but no words came. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, and she could feel the shift in him—a darker energy, raw and untamed, barely held back. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

North tilted his head, his gaze tracing her face like he was committing it to memory. “You test me,” he said softly, his accent wrapping around the words like velvet. “Tease me. You think this is still a game?”

The depth of his voice sent a shiver through her, and she swallowed hard. “Maybe it is,” she challenged, though her voice lacked its usual bite. “What if I want to win?”

A low, rumbling chuckle escaped him, but it wasn’t his usual laugh. It was deeper, darker. “Win? Azaria, moye iskusheniye, you have no idea what winning with me looks like.”

His hand dropped to her waist, the faintest touch that sent heat radiating through her. She should have pulled back, should have said something to break the moment, but instead, she stayed rooted to the spot, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

North’s mind churned, a storm of thoughts and desires crashing against the walls of his restraint. Every part of him screamed at the possibilities—the things he could do to her in this moment. How easy it would be to pull her closer, to feel her soft curves pressed against him, to tilt her chin up and claim her lips with a kiss so fierce it would leave no room for doubt about who she belonged to. His hand, rough and calloused from years of battle, itched to move, to trace the curve of her spine, to test how far she would let him go.

But then the more primal thoughts crept in, unbidden but relentless. What would she do if he let his restraint slip entirely? If he gave in to the feral need to possess, to devour? To show her the depth of his longing—the part of him that had been buried for decades, locked away for the sake of duty and honor? It wasn’t just want; it was need, raw and unforgiving, the kind he’d never allowed himself to feel, let alone act on.

And all this for a woman who had barely been in his life for a single day. A day! How had she undone him so quickly, without even trying? She wasn’t playing games with his emotions, wasn’t coy or manipulative. She was just her—bold, vibrant, and so unflinchingly alive that it drew him in like a moth to a flame.

The realization hit him like a blow to the chest: he was unraveling. Years of composure, of carefully cultivated control, crumbled with every second she stood before him, her breath shallow, her lips slightly parted. This woman was a force, not the kind he could resist but one that demanded surrender. She was undoing every practice, every moral he’d acquired to keep his insatiable instincts in check.

And the most maddening part? She wasn’t even trying.

His jaw clenched, the turmoil inside him mounting as his gaze drifted over her face, her eyes wide with anticipation. “You have no idea,” he murmured, his voice low and taut, “what you’ve done to me, Azaria.”

Her lips parted to respond, but he cut her off, his other hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. The gentleness of the gesture belied the chaos within him. Not yet, he thought, his hand tightening subtly on her waist. Not here. But soon.

The promise of that thought burned through him as he forced himself to keep his composure, the weight of his restraint bearing down heavier than ever. 

Azaria watched as North pulled back, his massive frame retreating as though he’d leashed something feral within himself. Her chest felt tight, like the air had been stolen from the space they shared. Really? You’re just gonna leave me standing here after all that? She didn’t say it out loud, though the words burned at the back of her throat.

She huffed under her breath, forcing her fingers to stop fidgeting with the hem of her corset. This isn’t what you’re here for, Azaria. Get your head in the game. But the ache in her chest wouldn’t go away, nor would the frustration simmering beneath it.

Her gaze lingered on his retreating back before she finally turned away, biting the inside of her cheek. What the hell am I even doing? I don’t know this man—this larger-than-life, frustrating, infuriating man who’s got me looking like a lovesick idiot. She shook her head, sparks from her magic flickering faintly around her as she paced through the snow, trying to burn off the restless energy crawling under her skin.

And why did Manny have to throw me into this? she thought, glancing up at the glowing moon overhead. “You’ve got some nerve,” she muttered under her breath, her tone quiet but sharp. “Putting me in a situation with him . I didn’t ask for this, you know. Didn’t ask to be a Guardian, didn’t ask for… whatever this is.”

Her fingers sparked with the remnants of her teleportation magic, betraying her emotions as she clenched her fists. And yet, here I am. Standing in the snow, chasing after teeth like this is supposed to mean something. Like I’m supposed to just... fall in line and accept this destiny you picked for me.

But her frustration wasn’t just with the Man in the Moon—it was with herself. Why does he get to me so easily? she wondered, the memory of his hand on her waist sending an unwelcome shiver through her. Why do I want to fall for it, for him? I don’t even know him.

The contradiction gnawed at her, a push-and-pull she couldn’t escape. On one hand, she wanted to give in to the undeniable pull between them, to see where it would lead. But on the other, she hated feeling like she wasn’t in control. Azaria Eve didn’t lose her head over anyone—especially not someone she’d known for less than a day.

The rest of the night passed in a whirlwind of magic and banter. She had thrown herself back into the game with renewed energy, darting in and out of houses, her sparks lighting up the dark streets as she worked to outpace him. She’d managed to collect a respectable number of teeth, but North, with his calm efficiency and years of experience, had easily beaten her by a mile.

Azaria pouted dramatically as they regrouped near the a cluster of houses. “Okay, seriously, how do you even do that? Do you have some secret tooth-radar or something?”

North chuckled, his earlier tension replaced by a warm, victorious glow. “Experience, Azaria. And discipline. You might want to try it sometime.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, clearly unimpressed. “Discipline is overrated.”

“Is it now?” he asked, his tone tinged with amusement, though the glint in his eyes suggested he wasn’t entirely joking.

Azaria rolled her eyes and waved him off with a playful scoff. “Yeah, yeah. Rub it in, why don’t you? Next time, I’m winning.”

North’s laugh rumbled through the crisp night air as they made their way to the last house in the town. The faint glow of Jamie’s bedroom window came into view, and Azaria clutched the edges of her dress, glancing up at North with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She tilted her head, her lashes fluttering in a way that was far too deliberate.

“Would you be so kind as to give a lady a boost?” she asked, her voice laced with faux innocence.

Her words made something in him stutter. North gulped, his tongue feeling heavy as her gaze lingered on him just a little too long. “Da,” he murmured, his voice low as he stepped closer. His hands found her waist, large and steady, wrapping around her with care. The material of her gown was impossibly smooth and silky beneath his fingers, making his grip feel clumsy and restrained as he fought the urge to press his fingers into the curve of her side.

Azaria smirked slightly at his silence, but said nothing as he lifted her with ease, his strength making her ascent look effortless. Her foot found the edge of the windowsill, and she gracefully stepped inside, her movements fluid and controlled.

The cozy glow of Jamie’s bedroom greeted her, the soft light casting long shadows across the small space. Jack and Tooth were already there, Jack lounging against the wall with his staff in hand while Tooth hovered near the bed, her delicate wings shimmering in the glow.

“About time you showed up,” Jack teased, spinning his staff as he leaned casually against the wall. “What were you doing? Sightseeing?”

Azaria shot him a look, planting her hands on her hips. “Don’t start with me, Frostbite. Some of us actually had to work for our count.”

Tooth, perched near Jamie’s bed, chimed in with her usual cheerfulness. “It’s okay, Azaria. It’s not about how many teeth you collect. It’s about making sure the kids feel special.”

“See? Tooth gets it.” Azaria crossed her arms, throwing a triumphant glance at North, though her pout was still evident.

Before Jack could respond, a sudden commotion drew their attention to the window. Azaria and Jack turned sharply as North climbed in, a large sack slung over his shoulder. His movements were less than graceful as he maneuvered through the small window, his heavy boots landing with a muffled thud. Sandman and Baby Tooth followed close behind, their smaller forms slipping in with ease.

“SSHHHHHHHH!!” Tooth hissed, her eyes darting to Jamie, who was still sound asleep in his bed.

North grinned unapologetically, adjusting the sack on his shoulder. “Oh, what gives slowpokes?!” he whispered, though his booming presence made even his whisper seem loud.

Azaria moved closer, wagging a finger at him. “North, keep it down! You’ll wake him.”

North chuckled, his voice warm and full of mischief. “How you feeling, Toothy?”

Tooth’s expression softened, and she smiled. “Believed in,” she replied quietly.

“Haha! That’s what I like to hear,” North said, his laugh a low rumble as he set his sack down.

Before anyone could reply, a new voice cut through the room. “Oh, I see how it is...” Bunny’s familiar drawl came from the floorboards as he emerged through a rabbit hole, his long ears twitching as he looked around the room. “All working together to make sure the rabbit gets last place.”

North turned, holding a finger to his lips. “SSHHHHHHHHH!!” he scolded, his eyes narrowing in exaggerated exasperation.

“Boy, what you mean SHHHH!, you was just as loud as him coming in here,” Azaria scolded North,  whisper-yelling. 

Jack, never one to let an opportunity pass, lifted his sack of teeth with a smug grin. “You think I need help to beat a bunny? Check it out, Peter Cottontail.”

Bunny’s gaze narrowed as he hefted his own sack, significantly larger than Jack’s. “You call that a bag of choppers? This is a bag of choppers.”

Azaria chimed in, a hand on her hips as she shook her larger tooth filled bag.“Ain’t nobody impressed with your little bunny-sized bag, Bugs. You wanna talk big? Show me somethin’ that doesn’t look like you borrowed it from a kangaroo daycare.”

Bunny blinked, momentarily caught off guard, then scowled. “Oh, real funny, sparkler. We’ll see whose bag’s bigger next time.”

Azaria smirked, “It ain’t about size, bun-bun. It’s about how you use it.” She winked, earning a laugh from Jack and a grumble from Bunny as he muttered something under his breath.

North, always the showman, stepped forward with a broad grin that silenced the banter. “Gentlemen, Azaria, this is about Tooth,” he declared with exaggerated grandeur. “It is not a competition!” He paused dramatically before adding, “But...”

With a flourish, he revealed an enormous sack, easily dwarfing the others, and his grin widened. “If it was—” He struck a triumphant pose, his voice booming. “I win. YEEEEHAAAHH!”

Without missing a beat, he launched into an impromptu Russian dance, his boots thudding softly against the wooden floor. For someone his size, his movements were surprisingly graceful, though his energy was as over-the-top as ever. Azaria folded her arms, shaking her head but unable to suppress a laugh.

The others stared, half-amused and half-embarrassed, until suddenly, a bright circle of light bathed the room, freezing them all in place.

North froze mid-dance, his expression shifting from triumph to alarm. “Oh no...” he muttered. 

From the bed, Jamie’s small, surprised voice broke the silence. “Santa Claus?” Jamie sat up in bed, flashlight in hand, his eyes wide with disbelief. “The Easter Bunny? … Sandman… The Tooth Fairy! I knew you’d come!”

Tooth tried to salvage the moment, her voice bubbly. “Surprise! We came!”

Jack, glancing around, asked, “He can see us?” His question was met with Jamie’s amazed gaze skipping right over him and Azaria.

“Most of us,” Bunny muttered softly, eyeying Jack sadly.

“Shhh!” Tooth hissed again, glancing nervously at Jamie. “He’s still awake!”

“Yeah,” Bunny replied, shrugging. “Sandy! Knock him out!” 

Sandy nodded, punching his fist into his hand as he took a step towards Jamie, “No, bad Sunny, 

Jamie’s excitement faltered as he frowned. “Huh?” 

“Bun-Bun, how could you?” Azaria asked, scandalized, the others looking at him wide-eyed. 

“With the Dreamsand, ya gumbies,” Bunny clarified.

Before Sandy could act, Jamie’s greyhound, Abbey, rose from the floor, its nose twitching. It sniffed the air and growled low before leaping toward Bunny.

“No, stop!” Jamie cried. “That’s the Easter Bunny! What are you doing, Abbey? Down!”

The greyhound growled as it moved nose-to-nose with Bunny, whose posture stiffened. “Alright, nobody panic,” he said, though his eyes darted nervously toward the dog.

Jack leaned against the dresser, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Oh, I’m not panicking. But you know what greyhounds do to rabbits, right?”

Bunny glared at Jack. “I think it’s a pretty safe bet this one’s never met a rabbit like me—”

Before he could finish, Jack set off Jamie’s alarm clock with a flick of his staff. The blaring sound startled the room.

“Crikey!” Bunny yelped, bolting with the greyhound right on his tail. The dog barked wildly, chasing Bunny in chaotic loops around the room.

“Stop! Abbey, sit!” Jamie shouted, but the dog paid him no mind.

The chaos only escalated. Tooth frantically tried to silence the alarm clock, Sandy prepared a Dreamsand ball to stop the dog, and Jack doubled over in laughter, gasping for air.

Azaria threw her hands in the air. “Y’all are impossible! I didn’t sign up for this circus!”

As Bunny ran up walls and over Jamie’s bed, North attempted to intervene, only to be knocked back by the greyhound.

 “Sandy! Sandy!” North called, but before Sandy could act, the dog smacked into him, sending the Dreamsand flying into Tooth, Bunny, and North. 

“This is not proper Tooth Fairy behavior!” Tooth groaned from the floor. A golden dust explosion knocked her out cold, Baby Tooth falling alongside her. Golden visions began swirling through the air. 

A glowing carrot appeared before Bunny, who groaned, “Oh no,” just before collapsing, asleep. The greyhound fell soon after, snoring softly with a paw draped over Bunny’s back.

North staggered, candy canes forming in his vision. “Candy canes…” he muttered before toppling like a tree, landing with a loud thud at the foot of the bed and catapulting Jamie into the air.

“Whoaaaa!” Jamie cried as Sandy caught him mid-flight and, with a quick puff of sand, put the boy back to sleep.

Azaria stood with her arms crossed, glaring at the heap of snoring Guardians. “This is ridiculous. If one more thing flies at me, I’m setting something off with a firecracker!”

Jack, still laughing, leaned against the dresser. “Oh, I really wish I had a camera right now.”

Sandy placed Jamie gently back in bed, adjusting the blanket with a serene smile. Above Bunny and North’s heads, glowing Dreamsand images of a carrot and a candy cane danced hand in hand, swirling playfully.

Azaria groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Y’all are hopeless,” she muttered, shaking her head.

Jack’s grin widened as he pointed toward North. “Looks like someone has an admirer,” he mockingly cooed, gesturing at the Dreamsand candy cane as it drifted back over North. Fireworks bloomed in the air above, and a golden womanly figure twirled around the candy cane in an elegant dance.

Sandy smirked, his mischief matching Jack’s. Wrapping his arms around himself, he mockingly kissed the air, his exaggerated gestures earning a sharp laugh from Jack, who doubled over, clutching his sides.

Azaria flushed, her ears burning as heat spread across her cheeks. She glared at the duo, her tone sharp. “Keep laughing, you pieces of sits. I shall receive my revenge.”

Jack straightened, still chuckling, as Azaria turned to him with a sly smirk. “I wouldn’t talk too much shit, Frostbite. I ain’t the only one floating around in someone’s head.” She gestured pointedly toward the carrot, which transformed into a glowing bunny clutching a snowflake tightly to its chest.

Jack’s laughter cut off instantly, his smug expression faltering as his jaw dropped. “Oh, come on,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair.

Sandy clapped silently, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter, while Azaria leaned back with her arms crossed, her grin triumphant. “That’s what I thought.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at her, muttering, “I’m gonna get you one of these days, Zee, you always got something to say.”

Azaria shrugged, her smirk only growing. “Bring it, Frostbite. I’m always ready.” 

Sandy’s eyes suddenly widened, his expression shifting from amusement to alarm. He pointed sharply behind Jack, his glowing sand forming an urgent arrow.

Jack turned quickly, his staff raised, and froze as he saw it—a Nightmare, its glowing yellow eyes peering through the window, its dark form swirling ominously in the moonlight.

Without hesitation, Jack bolted toward the window, his voice sharp with determination. “Sandy, Zee, c’mon! We can find Pitch!” he shouted before leaping out into the night. 

“Jack, wait!” she called out, but he was already gone. 

Sandy hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the others. Azaria stood with her arms still crossed, her unease growing as she caught the urgency in his gaze. He gave her a reassuring nod before following Jack, his form dissolving into golden sand as he disappeared into the shadows.

She glanced toward North and Bunny, both still snoring softly under the effects of the Dreamsand. Tooth was sprawled out nearby, a faint shimmer of golden dust still clinging to her wings. They wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

Her gut twisted. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, clenching her fists. She could leave it to Jack and Sandy—they were strong enough to handle Pitch on their own. But something gnawed at her, an insistent voice in the back of her mind whispering that she couldn’t just stand by. Something about this didn’t feel right, and the unease settled in her chest like a heavy weight.

Azaria let out a frustrated sigh and darted toward the window. She paused at the sill, glancing back at the room. The others lay still, their soft breathing the only sound in the quiet space. Dreamsand images of carrots and candy canes still floated above Bunny and North, the faint golden glow casting flickering shadows on the walls.

“Y’all better not get yourselves into more trouble while I’m gone,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Taking a steadying breath, she stepped onto the windowsill. Her fingers sparked, her magic crackling in the cool night air. With one last glance over her shoulder, she disappeared in a swirl of light, the faint smell of ozone lingering behind her.

The night swallowed her whole, the chill biting at her skin as she reappeared in the darkness outside. Jack’s shout echoed faintly in the distance, and Azaria gritted her teeth, pushing forward into the unknown. Whatever lay ahead, she couldn’t ignore the pull to follow.

Azaria wasn’t sure if it was courage, instinct, or just plain recklessness. But as her magic flared around her and she plunged into the shadows, one thing was clear—there was no turning back now.

Chapter Text

Two Nightmares zigzagged along the rooftops, their shadowy forms darting like wraiths in the moonlight. Jack, exhilarated by the chase, tore after them with a gleeful shout, his staff a blur of icy power. Beside him, Sandy moved like liquid light, riding a streak of golden Dreamsand with calm precision, his eyes locked on their targets.

“Damn, these two are tripping. Actin’ like everybody got wings,” Azaria muttered under her breath as she sprinted across the rooftops, her feet thudding against the tiles. She leapt from chimneys to air conditioning units, her movements fluid but increasingly frustrated as Jack and Sandy widened their lead.

At this rate, she wasn’t going to catch up, and that wasn’t about to fly—literally or figuratively. With a sharp huff, she reached for her meteor hammer, the charm unlocking from its resting position at her waist.

Swinging the chain, she ran with renewed determination, spinning the meteor in tight arcs until the weighted end ignited into a blazing red cannonball. Timing her steps, she launched the meteor forward, and a burst of magic propelled her through the air. The force sent her sailing across the gap between rooftops, and she grinned despite herself.

“Not bad,” she muttered as she used the momentum to kick off another chimney. Two more boosts like that and she was neck and neck with Jack, whose whoops and laughter filled the air as he bounded ahead.

“Wahooo!” Jack hollered, his laughter echoing across the rooftops. “Haha! Yes!”

Azaria followed, her steps deliberate but filled with tension, a heavy, sinking feeling in her gut. Something about the way the Nightmares moved, the way the chase unfolded, felt too convenient, too orchestrated. Her magic sparked faintly at her fingertips as her eyes flicked between Jack and Sandy.

Ahead, one of the Nightmares split off, angling sharply toward a bedroom window. Sandy followed without hesitation, his golden trail streaking after the creature. The Nightmare disappeared into the house, and Sandy vanished after it, his light swallowed by the darkened 

Sandy dove straight through a nearby building, his Dreamsand lighting up every window in his path. The sound of a cat’s screech and the crash of breaking glass made Azaria wince. “Oof. That’s a security deposit gone,” she muttered under her breath.

“Waaahoooo!” Jack’s shout snapped her out of her thoughts as he pursued the second Nightmare, which veered up and over the roof. Jack vaulted effortlessly after it, leaping from one rooftop to the next, his laughter ringing out like this was just another game.

Azaria’s lips pressed into a thin line as she pushed forward. Her gut screamed for her to stop, to assess, to not let herself be dragged further into what was starting to feel like a trap. But her steps didn’t falter. She wasn’t one to back down from a fight—she never had been. If something was about to go down, she wanted to be there for it.

The first Nightmare burst out of the house, Sandy close on its heels. With a soft poof , the creature exploded into golden Dreamsand, which Sandy quickly molded into the shape of a stingray. He mounted it without missing a beat, gliding through the air after the second Nightmare.

Azaria forced herself to keep pace, the unease curling tighter in her chest as she followed Jack into the heart of the chase.

Both of them kicked off chimneys in unison, vaulting over the edge of the rooftop and following the Nightmare as it descended onto the street below. Their synchronized leaps lit the air with sparks and frost, the chase pulling them closer to their quarry—and whatever chaos was waiting for them at the end.

They zoomed through town, the Nightmares weaving between buildings and down alleyways. Azaria threw two charms, zipping past the creature and the explosions making the Nightmare stop and rear up as its route was cut off before blindly taking off, heading back towards the rooftops. 

Jack was relentless, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning as he fired a blast from his staff. The ice struck true, freezing the second Nightmare in mid-air before it crashed onto a rooftop.

“Hah! I got it!” Jack crowed, leaping up onto the roof. He prodded the frozen creature with the end of his staff, his grin wide and triumphant. “Zee! Sandy! Sandy, did you see that?! Look at this thing!”

Azaria flipped onto the roof, meteor swinging leisurely by her feet as she sidled up to the downed Nightmare. “Mmm, kinda looks like Kinetic sand, I wonder if they still make that,” she mused and shrugged when Jack gave her a look. 

“Frost?” a low, smooth voice drawled from the darkness. Jack spun around, his staff raised, as Pitch stepped out from behind an air conditioning unit, his shadowy form sleek and deliberate. 

Azaria immediately reacted, “You son of a bitch!” she hissed as she swung her weapon, sending out three fireworks that lit the roof up in hues of blue, gold, and red. Pitch yelled out in pain at the brightness, leaping back with an arm covering his eyes. The sleeves of his coat on his forearm were burned away, the smell of burnt flesh and cloth filling the air as his grey skin blistered and sizzled from the heat. 

 Jack wasted no time, unleashing a wave of frost across the rooftop. Pitch dodged effortlessly, reappearing on the next rooftop over, his smirk unfazed, though his eyes screamed murder.

“You know,” Pitch began, his tone dripping with mockery, “for a so-called ‘neutral party,’ you spend an awful lot of time with those weirdos. And you -, ” he turned to a smug Azaria, “are realy, really starting to piss me off.” 

“Aw,” she fake pouted, “and here I was thinking we could have a sleepover and brush each other’s hair. You look like you're in desperate need of a spa day, boo.”

Jack tightened his grip on his staff, his stance rigid. “This isn’t your fight, Jack,” Pitch continued, circling like a predator stalking its prey.

Jack’s voice was icy as he snapped back, “You made it my fight when you stole those teeth.”

Pitch tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “Teeth? Why do you care about the teeth?” 

His gaze shifted, catching sight of Sandy, who had appeared silently on the rooftop beside him. Pitch’s smirk faltered for a split second as he jumped in surprise with a slight exclaim, putting more distance between himself and Sandy’s golden presence.

His lips curled into a wicked grin as he gestured toward him with exaggerated flourish. “Now this is who I’m looking for,” he purred, his voice a mixture of mockery and intrigue.

Before he could finish, a stream of golden Dreamsand lashed out, snapping like a whip and forcing him to duck. Sandy had moved swiftly, his calm expression betraying none of the ferocity behind his attack.

“Whoa—!” Pitch barely managed to dodge the next strike, stumbling back as he conjured a stream of dark Nightmare sand. The sand solidified in his hands, forming a massive sickle that glinted ominously in the moonlight. With a sharp swing, he hurled it toward Sandy, sending Jack diving out of its path.

The clash of sand and shadow pushed Sandy toward the edge of the rooftop, but he countered with the precision of a master. Another stream of Dreamsand spiraled out, grabbing Pitch mid-step and yanking him off his feet. With a wave of his hand, Sandy slammed Pitch against the rooftop repeatedly, the resounding cracks echoing across the buildings. 

“Damn. Damn. Damn! DAYUM!” Azaria winced at the sheer force of the blows but couldn’t look away.

Finally, Sandy hurled Pitch off the rooftop with a powerful swing, sending him crashing into the empty street below. 

Jack leaned against his staff, his jaw dropping slightly as he watched. “Remind me not to get on your bad side,” he muttered to Sandy, who winked in response. 

Dusting off his hands, Sandy stepped calmly to the edge and floated down after him, his golden sand swirling around him like a protective aura. Jack floated down, bouncing off the canopy of the building while Azaraia teleported, stepping through the portal carefully, her sparks still crackling at her fingertips and meteor. 

Pitch groaned as he pushed himself off the ground, brushing off his coat with exaggerated annoyance. “Okay, okay, easy,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender as Sandy advanced on him, his expression grim. 

“You can’t blame me for trying, Sandy. You don’t know what it’s like to be weak and hated.”

Sandy kept advancing but Azaria kept her gaze trained on Pitch, her instincts buzzing like a warning alarm. Something’s not right. Why this motherfucker keep looking over this shoulder when the threat is right in front of him?

“ It was stupid of me to mess with your dreams. So I’ll tell you what—”

“Sandy…,” Azaria said, her voice cautious. 

But Pith’s pleading tone dropped abruptly, his smirk returning with a cruel twist. “You can have ‘em back!”

Before they could react, a Nightmare burst out of a nearby storm drain, its shadowy form writhing as it loomed over them, glowing yellow eyes locked on the group. Azaria’s body tensed, and she instinctively stepped forward, her fingers hurled charms toward the advancing creature.

The firework charms exploded mid-air with a deafening crack , brilliant flashes of light briefly illuminating the alley. The first Nightmare reeled back, its shadowy form rippling under the burst of energy, but it quickly steadied itself, unfazed.

Azaria’s jaw tightened as more Nightmares emerged, their sinister forms slithering out from the shadows behind Pitch. She threw another charm, its firework-like pop lighting up the dark for a brief moment. The colorful burst scattered a few of the smaller Nightmares, but the larger ones pushed through without hesitation, their glowing eyes fixed hungrily on the group.

Jack adjusted his grip on his staff, his expression grim but ready. Sandy stood like a golden soldier, his Dreamsand swirling protectively around him. 

Azaria’s gut twisted as the Nightmares pressed closer, their sheer numbers overwhelming the narrow alley. Her charms had bought them seconds, but the wave of darkness kept surging forward.

“Alright,” she muttered, sparks climbing up her arms as her magic flared. “Guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

Jack glanced at Sandy before muttering, “You guys take the ones on the left, I’ll take the ones on the right?”

Sanderson and Azaria gave a small uneasy shrug, Sandy’s face screwing up in an uncertain smile, his golden sand swirling ominously around him as he prepared for the fight.

Meanwhile, Pitch rose smoothly from the ground, his movements almost theatrical as the massive form of Onyx took shape beneath him. The Nightmare horse snorted and snarled, its glowing yellow eyes trained on the group. Pitch climbed onto Onyx’s back, gripping its mane as he leaned forward with a grin.

“Boo,” he said softly, the word dripping with malice.

With that, the army of Nightmares charged, their hooves thundering against the ground like an oncoming tsunami.

Azaria’s swung sparks flared brighter as she held the majority of the length of chain in her left hand, the other alternatively swinging the meteor. She gritted her teeth, preparing to unleash everything she had, but then—a sound cut through the chaos.

The distant jingle of bells and the faint rumble of hooves echoed through the air. Azaria’s heart skipped as she looked up, her tension momentarily replaced with hope.

From above, North’s sleigh burst through the clouds, the majestic reindeer galloping across the sky. The sleigh circled overhead, its glowing red lights illuminating the battlefield below. Pitch’s charge slowed as he and his Nightmares turned to watch. “Calvary’s here!” Jack cried out with a smile. 

“Uhh, the cavalry’s flying a bit low, don’tcha think? … Oh shit, hit the dirt!” Azaria cried out, throwing herself down just as the sleigh swooped precariously close to the ground, missing Pitch by mere feet and nearly crashing into the trio.

Pitch turned, momentarily baffled as it passed overhead, his expression twisting into confusion. Azaria watched the sleigh’s erratic movements, her brow furrowing. It didn’t take much to see North hadn’t fully shaken off Sandy’s magic, and she was confident the others weren’t faring much better.

Up in the sleigh, North was slumped over the reins, snoring softly, his head bobbing with the rhythmic flight. Bunny and Tooth were sprawled nearby, equally out cold. The peaceful quiet didn’t last long. The sleigh jolted violently as one of its skis clipped the edge of City Hall, sending sparks flying into the air.

“Ah!” North yelped, jerking awake. He shook his head groggily, his hands fumbling for the reins as he tried to steady the sleigh.

Below, Azaria screamed out, “Duck!” as the sleigh provided a distraction. Without hesitation, she swung her meteor hammer, the chain whirling around them in a blur. The weighted end smashed through a cluster of Nightmares, each hit erupting into a dazzling explosion that made the surrounding creatures recoil.

Two of the fireworks spiraled outward, transforming into glowing dragon-like shapes that dove into the fray. Their fiery forms tore through the mass of Nightmares, scattering them as Sandy grabbed both Jack and Azaria. Before she could protest, he shot upward, catapulting them high into the night sky.

Meanwhile, Tooth dove off the side of the sleigh, her wings a shimmering blur as she sliced through the Nightmares with razor-sharp precision. Each strike caused the shadowy creatures to explode into clouds of black sand that dissolved into the wind. She moved with graceful efficiency, her cheerfulness replaced by a fierce determination.

Above the fray, Pitch hovered, his shadowy form commanding the Nightmares with a flick of his wrist. At his signal, another wave of Nightmares surged forward, dark tendrils spiraling like smoke as they descended upon the Guardians.

North cracked the reins, urging the reindeer forward, but Bunny was already on the move. With a nimble leap, he jumped from the sleigh and landed on a nearby rooftop. His boomerang gleamed in his paw as he hurled it into the advancing Nightmares. The weapon spun through the air, cutting through the shadowy creatures and disintegrating them into black sand before circling back into his grip.

“Ha! Still got it,” Bunny muttered, leaping off the roof and grabbing onto the skids of the sleigh as it sped past. His ears twitched as he glanced up, ready for the next wave.

North stood at the helm, his scimitars gleaming in the dim light as the sleigh charged forward. The reindeer snorted and galloped faster, their bells jingling a battle cry as he braced for impact from the incoming Nightmares. The reindeer charged forward, some biting at the Nightmares as they sharply banked right, fiercely trying to aid and protect their owner. 

Azaria shrieked in surprise at being airborne, her stomach lurching as the ground disappeared beneath her. The lights of Burgess sparkled below like a sea of stars, but she had no time to marvel. “I don’t like this!” she screamed, her voice rising with panic just as a nightmare raced towards them. 

Struggling she dropped the meteor low enough to tap it with her feet, sending out two projectiles, a candle firework that spun out and cutting the Nightmare in half with a poof of dust, and set a brocade towards an incoming swarm from above, the silver tail behind it fizzing and exploding into a spider like effect that dazed the group. 

“Nice shot!’ Jack cheered before his eyes widened and pointed his staff behind her, the tip turning blue. Azaria turned her head and only got out a gasp before a Nightmare collided with her. The impact broke Sandy’s hold on her collar, sending her spinning wildly. 

“Zee!” Jack screamed. 

Sandy’s eyes widened in alarm, Dreamsand stretched out to catch her, but another Nightmare slashed through the golden strands before they could reach her.

“Azaia, no!” Jack’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and frantic.

Sandy didn’t hesitate, his Dreamsand coiling around Jack’s waist before flinging him toward her. But even as Jack soared toward Azaria, Sandy was swarmed by a mass of Nightmares, their dark trails spiraling around him, threatening to overwhelm his golden light.

Azaria’s heart raced as she fell, her vision blurring from the wind and tears. She reached out desperately, the world spinning into chaos as Jack dove after her, determination etched across his face. 

Jack stretched out his hand, his fingers inches away from Azaria’s flailing arm. “I’ve got you!” he shouted, his voice strained with effort. Just as he was about to grab her, three Nightmares slammed into him, their dark forms spiraling out of the shadows and knocking him off course. Jack grunted in frustration, spinning backward, his staff barely holding off the creatures as they pushed him away.

Azaria felt the air rush past her as she plunged back toward the ground, her gown billowing and her hair whipping against her face. She struggled to focus, to form an arc to slow her descent, but she was spinning too fast. Wind roared in her ears as panic clawed at her chest.

“Somebody, help me!” she screamed, her voice raw with fear.

At the front of the herd, one of the reindeer, Dasher,  saw the commotion. Distressed and angry, it let out a loud, bellowing cry, its deep call piercing the chaos. North’s head snapped up at the sound, his eyes instantly locking on Azaria’s falling form. Her terrified scream cut through the night, and a surge of fear and protective rage rushed through him like a tidal wave.

“Azaria,” he breathed, his voice a low growl, his grip on the reins tightening. Dancer and Dasher bellowed out, the other reindeer pulled forward instinctively, their speed increasing before he could even crack the reins. 

“Hold on!” North shouted, his voice gruff but steady. Without hesitation, he dropped the reigns climbed onto the helm of the sleigh and leapt onto the backs of the reindeer, his boots landing firmly on Dasher’s broad back. The sleigh rocked slightly, but the reindeer didn’t falter as he balanced himself.

“ Legko, deti moi ,” North murmured in Russian, his tone commanding but calm. The reindeer obeyed, their pace adjusting just enough to give him the momentum he needed. [Easy, my children] 

North crouched low, his muscles coiling like a spring before he launched himself into the air. The wind rushed past him as he reached for Azaria, his arms outstretched.

“Got you!” he roared, arms wrapped securely around her waist. The force of his catch pulled her against his chest, his grip unyielding as he held her tightly. For a moment, they fell together, the world a blur of stars, wind, and the chaos of the battle around them.

Azaria clung to him, her heart pounding as his solid presence anchored her amidst the terror. His deep voice rumbled close to her ear, steady and reassuring. “I have you now, milyy . You’re safe.” [darling]

With a sharp adjustment of his body, North shifted their momentum, twisting mid-air as the sleigh flew beneath them. Timing it perfectly, he landed back in the sleigh with a heavy thud, his boots planting firmly as he cradled Azaria against him. The sleigh rocked slightly, but North held his ground, keeping her secure in his arms.

Azaria’s breath came in shallow gasps, her hands clutching at his coat as her sparks flared weakly around them. North’s heart thundered in his chest as he held her close, the warmth of her trembling body pressed against him grounding him amidst the chaos. The moment her wide, tear-filled eyes met his, something deep within him snapped.

The caretaker in him surged forward, aching to wipe away every trace of her panic. His thumb brushed her cheek gently, the tear falling beneath the golden curve of his ring. He felt the fragility in her shuddering breaths, the way she instinctively curled closer to him for safety, and it ignited something primal. A fierce need to shelter her, to reassure her that nothing would harm her again as long as he stood between her and the threat.

But beneath that protective instinct, a darker, possessive edge coiled within him. The thought of her tears— her tears —made him seethe. If she was to cry, it would be because of him, and only ever in moments where he held her through them. Her softness was his to treasure, her vulnerability his to witness. The idea that the Nightmares had taken that from him, had dared to make her afraid , sent fury roaring through him and made his body hum.

“Are you alright?” 

She nodded, body trembling and curling further into his arms trying to compose herself. 

“Next time,” he rumbled, a hint of his usual humor breaking through his fierce expression, “no falling without permission.”

She let out a breathless, nervous laugh, her fingers curling into the fabric of his collar as she tried to steady herself. “Noted. Thank you, North, for saving me.”

“Always,” he rumbled, his voice low and rough with lingering adrenaline. His intense gaze softened just slightly as his lips quirked into a sly grin. “Besides,” he added, leaning in closer, his breath warm against her ear, “I want to be the only one to make such a pretty face scream.”

Azaria’s breath caught, her grip tightening on his collar as his words sank in. His mustache brushed against her cheek, the sensation tickling and intimate, as his nose grazed the curve of her shoulder—so light, so fleeting, she almost thought she imagined it.

“Pain ,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine, “should always be followed by pleasure for you.”

Her pulse raced, a quiet gasp escaping her lips as his presence enveloped her, warm and electric. North pulled back just enough to catch her wide-eyed expression, his grin deepening with satisfaction before he turned back to the reins, his focus returning to the fight. But the air between them burned, charged with the weight of words that promised far more than comfort.

The rage North felt toward the Nightmares burned hotter than anything he’d known in years. He wanted to tear through them, to obliterate every single shadowy form that had dared to threaten her. His strength was brute and unyielding, and for the first time in years, it felt utterly justified. He needed to destroy them, to send a message that no harm would come to what was his.

And Azaria was his. Whether she realized it yet or not, Azaria belonged under his care, beneath his shield, and entwined with his life. The electric tension between them wasn’t just a spark—it was a fire, alive and consuming. Every tremble of her body against his own only deepened that unspoken claim.

As he cradled her closer, his thumb lingering on her cheek, he spoke, his voice a low rumble that carried both the humor she needed and the possessiveness he couldn’t quite conceal. “Next time, no falling without permission.”

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice low but firm, before setting her carefully on the bench. 

 North’s hand briefly lingered at her waist before she shifted, fidgeting free of his grasp. Her movements, subtle but unmistakable, sent a ripple of heat through him as she adjusted herself, her curves rolling across the solid breadth of his thighs. 

She finally settled on the bench beside him, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. Her magic flared brighter, the sparks dancing around her like hyped up fireflies.

North’s grin widened, an idea to distract her and bring her back into the fight, a hint of mischief flashing in his eyes. “ I have a request, let’s see if you can show me what a good girl you are, then,” he said, his tone low and teasing as he nodded toward the reins. “Take them. If you can do that for me... maybe I’ll try to keep impressing you.”

Azaria blinked, her breath hitching as her hand reached hesitantly for the reins. “I... I can do that,” she said, her voice soft but determined.

“Good,” he rumbled, leaning closer, his gaze locked on her. “But use your words, moy lyubimyy. Say it properly.” {My beloved} 

Azaria swallowed hard, her cheeks warming as she met his intense stare. “I can take the reins. For you, sir.”

The corner of his mouth curled upward in approval, his expression darkening with something more. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a velvet growl that sent shivers down her spine. “And if you need help, I’ll teach you.”

Her fingers tightened around the reins as her pulse quickened, but North had already turned, planting his boots firmly as he stood tall, scimitars flashing in his hands. The wind rushed past them as the sleigh surged forward, but Azaria’s attention lingered on his words, her resolve strengthening. She wasn’t about to let him down.

His roar thundered through the chaos, an echo of pure determination. “Ha. Ha. Ha. Come on!”

The Nightmares surged toward him, their shadowy forms twisting with malevolent intent. North’s blades moved in perfect arcs, slicing through the creatures with devastating precision. Each swing sent ripples of black sand scattering into the air, but the fight only seemed to fuel him further.

He relished the battle, it had been too long since he had felt the raw power surging through his arms as he met the Nightmares head-on, his movements as fierce as the fire swirling in his chest. This wasn’t just a battle for him; it was a message. A declaration. To the Nightmares. To Pitch. To anyone who thought they could take what was precious from his world. Not on my watch.

His mind, sharp even amidst the chaos, drifted for a fleeting moment. The children. The pure innocence of their belief, the light in their dreams. Noth would not let that be stolen, not while he still had breath in his lungs and strength in his arms. Each Nightmare he struck down felt like an act of vengeance for every child Pitch had dared to torment.

And then there was Azaria. The thought of her steady presence at his side, of her explosive creations cutting through the darkness, burned brighter in his chest than the fire of the battle itself. 

His eyes flicked briefly to her, holding the reins with the same ferocity she brought to everything she did. North swung his scimitars again, roaring as the blades tore through another wave of Nightmares. 

She doesn’t know it yet, but I’ll show her. I’ll prove I can protect her, hold my ground beside her. That I’m worthy of her trust.

The sleigh dipped and turned as she urged the reindeer faster, her magic sparking faintly in the air. He felt her confidence, her determination, and it only spurred him further. With each swing of his blades, each roar that tore from his chest, he fought not just for the children, not just for the Guardians—but for her.

He slashed through another Nightmare, his movements fluid and unyielding. The darkness would not win tonight. Not while he stood. Not while she stood. Let them come, he thought, his scimitars arcing once more. I’ll destroy them all.

Jack dodged two Nightmares as they lunged at him, their claws swiping inches from his head. As he soared through the chaos, a third Nightmare blindsided him, knocking the staff from his hands.

“Aaaaaah!” Jack’s panicked shout rang through the chaos as he plummeted through the air, limbs flailing wildly. His eyes darted frantically before locking onto his staff, tumbling alongside him. With a desperate lunge, he managed to grab it, hooking onto its frosted length and steadying his descent. A quick spin righted him just in time to land back on the sleigh as it sped past, his boots skidding on the wooden surface.

“You might want to duck,” Bunny’s calm voice cut through the commotion, his tone as dry as ever.

Jack barely had time to process the warning before instinct took over. He ducked sharply, and a Nightmare lunged from behind, claws swiping through the air where his head had just been. Before it could turn for another strike, Bunny’s boomerang whizzed through the air, cutting the creature down in one smooth motion. It exploded into black sand, the weapon zipping back seamlessly into Bunny’s waiting paw.

“Thanks,” Jack muttered, brushing stray flecks of sand from his coat before his eyes darted to the front of the sleigh, where Azaria passed the reins back to North. She was standing tall now, hands steady. Her face was set in determination, though the slight tremble in her shoulders gave away her exhaustion.

Jack pushed himself up, sliding toward her. “Hey,” he called softly, his voice cutting through the rush of wind. She didn’t look back, but he saw her shoulders relax slightly at the sound of his voice.

Sliding closer, Jack wrapped his arms gently around her from behind, his grip steady as he rested his chin lightly on her shoulder. “You okay, firecracker?” he murmured, his tone soft but laced with concern.

Azaria exhaled, her fingers tightening on the reins. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though her voice wavered slightly. “Just... don’t let go of me.”

“Not a chance,” Jack said, his hold firm. He stayed close, his presence grounding as they rode forward into the chaos.

High above the battlefield, Sandy hovered amidst the swirling mass of Nightmares. His Dreamsand spiraled outward in golden arcs, pushing back the endless tide of shadowy creatures. The sheer number of Nightmares was overwhelming, their dark forms pressing in from all sides, but Sandy didn’t falter, his focus sharp despite the odds.

From the shadows, Pitch emerged, his movements deliberate as he rose above the chaos. With a slow, sinister stretch of his arms, an arrow of Nightmare sand formed behind him, its jagged edges pulsating with dark energy. His cold eyes locked onto Sandy, his lips curling into a twisted grin as he took aim.

On the sleigh, Jack, Azaria, and the rest of the Guardians watched as more Nightmares streaked through the sky, joining the massive swarm surrounding Sandy. The swirling storm of yellow Dreamsand and black shadow was overwhelming, and the strain on Sandy’s small frame was evident.

“We gotta help Sandy!” Jack shouted, his arms still loosely around Azaria as he glanced back at North.

“Hyah!” North bellowed, cracking the reins with enough force to jolt the sleigh forward. The reindeer surged ahead, their bells jingling like a battle cry as the sleigh barreled toward the storm.

From his vantage point, Pitch released the arrow. It shot through the air with deadly precision, cutting through the golden light of Sandy’s magic before striking him squarely in the back. The arrow exploded on impact, the blast sending golden Dreamsand scattering like shattered glass.

On the sleigh, the Guardians froze, horror washing over them as they saw the strike.

“Sandy! Noooo!” Azaria screamed, her cry piercing the night as sharp as the arrow that was now embedded in her friend. 

Jack’s arms slipping away from Azaria as he launched himself off the sleigh, flying toward Sandy with everything he had.

“Jack!” North roared, his voice a mix of anger and panic, but Jack was already too far ahead, determination driving him toward his friend.

Sandy felt the shock ripple through his small frame and turned slowly, his golden glow flickering like a candle in a storm. A patch of blackness began spreading across his body, dark tendrils consuming his Dreamsand with each passing moment. His wide eyes locked with Pitch’s triumphant gaze.

“Hahahahaha!” Pitch’s laughter echoed through the battlefield. “Don’t fight the fear, little man,” he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.

The Guardians sped toward Sandy, their faces etched with determination and dread. But the Nightmares began slamming into the sleigh, their shadowy forms colliding with the reindeer and skids, slowing their progress.

“Hurry, hurry!” North bellowed, his grip on the reins like a vice as he fought to push through the dark swarm.

Pitch stood amidst the hurricane of Nightmares, his dark form looming as he watched Sandy succumb. “I’d say sweet dreams,” he said with a cruel smirk, “but there aren’t any left.”

Sandy’s small frame wavered as his golden Dreamsand dimmed further. His eyes, filled with terror, glanced once more at the Guardians hurtling toward him before he fell to his knees. The blackness consumed him, the writhing Nightmare sand enveloping his form entirely.

Azaria froze, her breath hitching as the golden glow that had always been Sandy began to fade. 

“No… NOOOOO!” Jack’s anguished cry tore through the air. He clenched his staff tightly, his entire body taut as he pushed himself harder, flying toward Pitch with everything he had.

The light emanating from Jack cut through the darkness like a beacon, illuminating his path. Pitch’s sharp eyes narrowed as he raised his hands, his fingers curling as a massive wave of Nightmares rose behind him, their writhing forms cascading forward like a tidal wave.

The Guardians watched in stunned silence, their expressions grim as the Nightmares surged toward Jack. Azaria gripped the side of the sleigh, her sparks flickering faintly as her heart raced. “Jack,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Realizing too late the sheer magnitude of what was coming, Jack braced for impact, the Nightmares barreled toward him, shadowy tendrils reaching out and engulfing him completely. His staff flared once, then dimmed as the dark mass swallowed him whole. The world around him turned silent, the weight of the Nightmares pressing in from all sides.

Pitch’s grin widened, arms outstretched in triumph. “Foolish boy,” he muttered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. But his smugness was short-lived.

Tears blurred her vision as a wave of grief and rage surged through her, so powerful it felt as though her chest might burst. Her hands trembled at her sides before they erupted in a blinding storm of sparks.

“No!” she screamed, her voice raw, as her entire body lit up like a fuse igniting. Sparks flared into dazzling fireworks, firecrackers, and streams of multicolored light. The power surged uncontrollably, radiating outward in a violent explosion that lit up the battlefield like a thousand suns.

The storm of light ripped through the Nightmares, the force of her attack obliterating half the shadowy swarm in an instant. Fireworks and sparklers spiraled into the darkness, bursting in brilliant explosions that left trails of ash and light behind. The sound was deafening, a crescendo of cracks, booms, and sizzles that reverberated across the night sky.

As the last of her fireworks faded, Azaria collapsed to her knees, her body trembling from the sheer force of her outburst. The air around her, once vibrant with her magic, now felt heavy and still. Sparks sputtered weakly at her fingertips, their faint, flickering glow mirroring her exhaustion.

A broken sob tore from her throat, raw and guttural, as she clutched at her hair, her fingers tangling in the curls as if trying to anchor herself. Her head bowed, tears streaming freely down her cheeks, hot against the cold night air. Rocking herself back and forth, she shook her head in denial, her voice catching in her throat as she gasped for air between sobs.

“Sandy…” she choked out, his name slipping past her lips like a plea. 

Sndy had been her protector in more ways than one, always watching, always there. And now… now he was gone.

Her sobs deepened, her body trembling as the memories flooded her. The countless moments of quiet camaraderie, the unspoken bond that didn’t need words to be felt—ripped away in an instant. The grief clawed at her chest, a raw, relentless pain that refused to be ignored.

Bunny was at her side in an instant, holding off her swinging hands before catching her , stopping her collapsing on the floor of the sleigh. “Easy, Zee. Easy now,” he murmured, his voice unusually soft as he cradled her against his chest. His paws gently stroked her back, soothing her as she gasped for air.

A sudden bolt of lightning erupted from within the remaining writhing mass of black sand, shattering the oppressive silence. 

The light was blinding, crackling with raw power as it shot outward, forcing the Nightmares to recoil. Pitch’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Within the storm of shadows, Jack’s voice broke through with a thunderous cry. “Ahhhhhh!” The sound echoed, reverberating with the force of his determination.

A powerful gust of wind followed, whipping past Pitch and scattering the remnants of the Nightmares. Moments later, an immense wave of ice and frost surged upward, coursing back through the stream of Nightmare sand like a feral beast. The froststorm hit Pitch with unrelenting force, the impact culminating in an explosive burst of ice and snow that sent him reeling.

“AAAAGH!” Pitch screamed, his form shrouded in a shimmering cloud of frost as he staggered backward.

The battlefield stilled for a moment as the remnants of the explosion drifted away. From above, Jack’s limp form began to fall, his body descending rapidly toward the Earth below.

“Jack!” North roared, his deep voice filled with urgency. Tooth reacted immediately, her wings flaring as she leapt from the sleigh. She streaked through the air, her shimmering form catching up to Jack just before he hit the ground.

With careful precision, Tooth cradled him in her arms, her wings slowing their descent as she brought him back to the sleigh. She landed gently, setting him down on the bench as the others gathered around.

“Jack!” Tooth leaned over him, her voice tinged with worry. “How did you do that?”

Jack stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. His voice was faint but steady as he replied, “I… I didn’t know I could.”

The Guardians exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of awe and confusion. Azaria knelt beside Jack, her sparks flickering as she placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Well, let’s hope you’ve got more of that in you,” Bunny said softly, tone equal parts teasing and sincere.

North’s broad chest rose and fell with deep, steady breaths, though his heart thundered beneath the layers of his coat. Without a word, he reached back, his massive hand sliding gently under Azaria. With a fluid motion, he pulled her into his lap, holding her as though anchoring her to him might keep her from shattering.

Azaria didn’t resist, her hands clutching tightly at the thick fabric of his coat, her sobs muffled against his chest. Her body trembled, each shuddered breath spilling warmth against him as her tears soaked into the fur-lined collar. North’s arms encircled her, one resting protectively across her back while the other pressed her closer, as if shielding her from a world that had been far too cruel that night.

He wordlessly shifted, tucking her further into his embrace, his massive frame folding around her like a fortress. His thick coat enveloped them both, its warmth mingling with the faint scent of pine and leather. 

She felt his chin drop gently to the top of her head, the weight of it grounding her in his presence. Her own tears blurred her vision, but she couldn’t ignore the faint dampness that touched her scalp as his quiet grief spilled over, a few of his tears slipping past his stoic composure.

North’s grip tightened ever so slightly, his thumb brushing circles against her back in a rhythm as steady as his heartbeat. There was no rush, no expectation. His embrace was solid, steady—a haven in the midst of chaos.

Azaria didn’t pull away, didn’t acknowledge the tears that weren’t hers wetting her hair. For that moment, she allowed herself to lean into the comfort he offered, his strength a balm to the raw ache in her chest. She wasn’t ready to let go of her grief, but as the sleigh pressed forward into the night, she felt a flicker of safety amidst the storm, a fragile light cradled in the arms of a man who carried the weight of her pain alongside his own.

North tossed a snow globe, the sleigh swayed slightly as they retreated through the portal. Landing with a quiet thud on the snowy grounds of North’s palace, the grandeur of its icy spires muted under the weight of their grief. The usual hum of activity from the Yetis was nowhere to be found. Instead, a somber stillness blanketed the palace, the air heavy with the loss they all carried.

North stepped down first, cradling Azaria against him as though she might slip through his fingers if he let go. Her face was buried in his chest, her tears dampening the fur lining of his coat. Vixen, one of the reindeer, approached them with a soft chuff, her warm breath steaming in the cold air. The reindeer leaned down, her tongue flicking out to lick Azaria gently, a quiet comfort that earned no resistance from the girl.

North glanced down at the reindeer, his expression unreadable but his voice low and steady. “Good girl, Vixen,” he murmured, his hand briefly brushing against the creature’s flank before he continued forward.

A Yeti emerged from the shadows of the grand entrance, its normally playful demeanor subdued. It stood tall, its fur dusted with frost, and waited silently for North’s approach. Without a word, North transferred Azaria into the Yeti’s massive arms, his movements deliberate and careful.

“She is to rest,” North said, his voice gruff but steady, though the faint tremor in his tone betrayed his exhaustion. He straightened, his gaze locked on the Yeti’s. “There will be a funeral service for Sandy tonight. Prepare the great hall. Dawn is close.”

The Yeti nodded solemnly, cradling Azaria with surprising gentleness as it turned to carry her inside. Azaria stirred slightly, her sparks flickering weakly as she looked up, her eyes meeting North’s for just a moment. He paused, his massive hand brushing briefly against her arm in a wordless reassurance before he turned and strode away.

The sound of his boots crunching against the snow was the only noise as he disappeared into the shadows of the palace, his shoulders heavy with the weight of the night’s events. The vast halls of his home seemed quieter than ever, the looming dawn promising little solace as the Guardians prepared to honor their fallen friend.

Chapter Text

The crackling fire from the humongous fireplace illuminated the solemn faces gathered in North’s globe room. The heavy feeling of sadness and grief hung in the air as the Guardians stood before him, battered but resolute. North’s broad shoulders were squared, his expression one of grim determination, though a flicker of exhaustion lingered in his icy blue eyes.

He let the silence stretch for a moment, ensuring he had their full attention. Then, with a commanding tone, he spoke.

“Tooth. Bunny. Jack. You have done well today,” he began, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. “But this battle is only one of many. Go now, wash up, rest, and regain your strength. We will regroup at first light.”

Bunny tilted his head, one ear twitching as he rolled his shoulders, clearly reluctant to leave. “We can stay up, mate. Help with the—”

“No,” North cut him off, his tone firm. “Your strength will be needed in the morning. You will not help anyone by pushing yourselves too far.”

Jack leaned heavily on his staff, his usual cocky demeanor dimmed by the weight of grief. “What about Sandy’s vigil?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

North’s gaze softened, though his tone remained steady. “It’s almost half past two in the morning. The vigil will be held in about four hours. You will all attend. For now, Jack, there is a room prepared for you. Use it. Rest.”

Jack hesitated, glancing between Tooth and Bunny before nodding reluctantly. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“How’s Azaria?” Tooth asked gently, her wings fluttering in concern.

“Yeah, the little spitfire seemed to be out like a light,” Bunny added, his ears twitching with worry.

North’s expression softened further, though a hint of protectiveness lingered in his tone. “She’s resting in my quarters. One of the Yetis checked her over. She’s fine—just overexerted herself when she rushed out to help Jack during the last attack.”

Jack’s head lowered, guilt flickering across his face. “She’s probably taking this harder than anyone,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Sandy was like a big brother to her. He was the first one she met after waking up. I didn’t even meet her until seventy years later. By then, she’d already been around for two decades. She told me once how he guided her, helped her figure out how to handle her powers.”

“To handle her powers? How so?” North asked, curiosity clear in his voice.

Jack shifted uncomfortably, gripping his staff tighter. “It gets intense for her leading up to New Year’s. Everyone starts thinking about their resolutions, writing them down. If too many build up, she hears them.every. single. one. 

The Guardians’ faces were shocked, North’s eyebrows furrowing in concern as he pondered how that must feel for her. 

“It can overwhelm her, stress her out. She’s snapped at me a few times because of it. That’s why we usually try to meet up in the months after New Year’s, around March or April.”

“Why so soon?” Tooth pressed.

“Because people can’t hold onto their resolutions for anything I bet,” Bunny said with a scoff. “Remember when Tooth said she’d try not to talk so fast?”

“Or,” North added, his lips twitching into a faint smirk, “when she promised not to put fingers in mouth without permission?”

Tooth’s cheeks flushed, and she gave a sheepish laugh as Jack stared at her, wide-eyed. “That’s completely different!” Tooth protested, laughing despite herself. 

“Yeah, well, Sandy was the one who made her feel like part of the team,” Bunny said, his tone softening. “I’ll admit, the little ankle biter’s alright.”

Jack grinned mischievously. “I’m telling her you called her that.”

Bunny’s head snapped toward him, ears flat. “Don’t you dare, Frost.”

Jack chuckled, but his expression grew somber again. “Topper, Flicker, and the others should probably be called for the ceremony too. Sandy helped her train them.”

North nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll have her notify them after she wakes and is strong enough.”

Though the night stretched on, the promise of honoring Sandy together gave them the smallest glimmer of solace.

Together, they shared the smallest glimmer of solace.

“Good,” North said, his voice firm but kind. “For now, all of you go. Rest. I will send the Yetis and elves to gather everyone for the vigil when it is time. Jack, I can have Roger here escort you to a room.”

Roger, a blue-furred Yeti, stepped forward with a polite nod, but Bunny hopped in front of Jack, blocking Roger’s guiding hand.

“Nah, it’s alright, mate. I got him,” Bunny said, his ears twitching. He gestured for Jack to follow him. “Come on, Frostbite. I’ll show you where you can crash for the night.”

Jack glanced at North, giving him a small nod. “Thanks, North. For everything.” Then he turned and followed Bunny out of the room.

North watched them go, his sharp gaze softening. “Thank you, Bunny,” he called after the Pooka. Bunny stopped, one ear swiveling back toward North.

“For what?” Bunny asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“For your help,” North replied, his tone sincere. “Tonight and always. You need anything for Easter tomorrow, you tell me. We’ll be there.”

Bunny hesitated, his usual gruffness wavering. He gave North a brief, almost imperceptible nod. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said before ushering Jack out of the room.

North’s piercing eyes moved to Toothiana, who had remained behind, her wings fluttering softly behind her as if she were struggling to stay aloft. “You have earned rest as much as anyone, Tooth,” he said, his voice gentler now. “Go.”

Tooth stepped forward, her gaze meeting North’s with quiet determination. “Thank you, North,” she said, her voice a soothing melody. Her hand came to rest lightly on his forearm, her warmth a stark contrast to the cold steel of his demeanor. “You’ve carried more than your share of the weight today. We’ll be ready in the morning.”

As the door closed behind them, North let out a heavy sigh. Alone now with the yetis, he allowed himself a moment of stillness, the weight of the night pressing against him. The promise of the vigil loomed, and with it, the chance to honor Sandy’s sacrifice—but also to face the void he had left behind.

North clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as his jaw tightened. He had seen loss before, endured it for centuries, but this felt different. It felt personal.

He exhaled sharply, dragging his fingers through his thick beard, trying to shake the image of Sandy’s final moments. He had been the light in their darkest hours, and now that light was gone, leaving only shadows.

And then there was Azaria.

North's expression softened, a pang of guilt slicing through his resolve. She had pushed herself far beyond her limits, her body collapsing in sheer exhaustion after the battle. She had fought fiercely, recklessly even, as though she had something to lose. 

When she nearly fell to her death, he had reacted without thought, instincts taking over like a primal force he hadn’t felt in centuries. Upon landing, Jake, a red-furred medic yeti, had been nearby, running over to assist in any way possible. North had barked out an order, his voice sharp with urgency, handing Azaria over as if she was a precious jewel. “Check her over. Take her to my chambers, report back to me immediately if there are any injuries. Now.”

The words had left his mouth before his mind caught up, but the moment they did, he felt the weight of their implications. His private chambers. His sanctuary. A place he had never allowed anyone to step into without his explicit permission, let alone occupy. 

It wasn’t just about the practicality of having her near, he knew he could have placed her anywhere else and still been updated on her whereabouts or condition. However something manipulative, something animalistic, had driven his decision.

She needed to be there. In his space. Where he knew she would be safe. Where no one would disturb her.

It wasn’t rational. He knew that. And yet, when he imagined her fragile, unconscious body anywhere else, it sent a flare of unease through him that he couldn’t ignore. His chambers were secure, protected,  and hers , if only for this moment.

The image of her lying there, vulnerable and peaceful in the bed he rarely used, gnawed at him. It stirred something primal, a desire to claim and protect that made his chest tighten.

North shook his head sharply as though trying to clear it of the lingering image of Azaria. He couldn’t afford to dwell, not now, not when so much still needed to be done. 

Taking off in a purposeful stride, he left the Globe room, his heavy boots echoing down the halls as he pulled out his communicator.

“Phil,” he barked, his voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Phil’s gruff response came immediately.

“Make sure all the reindeer are given a full medical examination. Any injuries, no matter how small, they get attention. If there is anything, bring out a backup reindeer for tomorrow’s mission. Last thing, I want the launchpad ready and prepared by 7. Clear?”

Phil grunted affirmatively, already moving to carry out the instructions. North could hear the sounds of other yetis in the background setting off to work, some shouting orders to hurry up. 

North paused, rubbing a hand over his face as he exhaled slowly. “Good. I’ll look in on them later. For now, make sure they’re fed and warm. They’ve done their part today. Thanks Phil.”

Ending the call, North strode down the hall, his steps steady despite the weight of the night. He paused outside the corridor leading to his chambers, the heavy double doors standing as a quiet sentinel to his private sanctuary. With a deep breath, he pushed them open.

The entryway unfolded into a grand lounging area, its walls adorned with rich tapestries and sturdy wooden beams that stretched toward the vaulted ceiling. A plush rug softened the wooden floor, and a large stone fireplace sat against one wall, its embers glowing faintly. To the right, a door led to the bedroom tucked away at the back, while to the left, another door opened into his office.

His steps faltered. His body hesitated at the choice before him. The thought of Azaria, curled in his bed, her breaths quiet and steady, sent a heat coursing through him. His mind painted an image of her, the rise and fall of her chest soft and rhythmic, her features serene. No woman had caught his attention in centuries, and yet, she had. She was in his space, wearing his clothes, and the sheer rightness of it both startled and consumed him.

A possessive desire rose unbidden, primal and raw. He wanted to claim her, to make her his, but the weight of that need warred with something gentler. He couldn’t scare her off with his suddenness, not when there was so much about her he still craved to understand. He didn’t just want to touch her; he wanted to know her—every thought, every quirk, every desire that made her who she was.

But now wasn’t the time. He turned sharply toward the office, the door closing behind him with a soft click. Leaning heavily against it, he tilted his head back, exhaling a slow, controlled breath. The room was practical, dominated by his wide oak desk cluttered with blueprints and notes, a space built for focus. He clung to that practicality now, needing its anchor more than ever.

North moved to the desk and pulled out a blank sheet, brushing aside the mess of his earlier projects.  His pencil moved swiftly as he began sketching, lines forming the beginnings of a new sleigh design. But his mind betrayed him, the lines blurring as thoughts of Azaria crept in.

What was it about her? What had drawn him to her so fiercely? Her quiet strength? Her fiery spirit? The way she spoke with such conviction even when doubt lingered behind her eyes? He gripped the pencil tighter, trying to refocus, but the questions persisted.

What kind of stories did she enjoy? What dreams stirred her mind at night? What would her voice sound like if he whispered her name against her skin? Would she arch into his touch, or pull away before succumbing to him?

North growled, shaking his head and forcing his focus back to the page. He began jotting down notes about toy production, about the adjustments needed to meet Christmas demands. But no matter how hard he tried, her face returned to his thoughts—peaceful yet vivid in its intensity.

He clenched his jaw. This wasn’t like him. He was a man of discipline, a leader, a builder. Yet she had unraveled that control with her presence alone. He didn’t just want her in his bed; he wanted her in his life. He wanted her laughter echoing in his halls, her warmth chasing away the cold that had settled over his existence.

North threw the pencil onto the desk, the frustration boiling over. He couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t an idiot and knew that he wanted her, yes, but it wasn’t just physical. It was the depth of her, the fire she carried, the spark she brought into a world that had long since lost its color for him.

But how could he show her that? How could he make her see without overwhelming her?

Who was she? What did she like to do in her free time? What kind of position did she want to take his cock first?  What kind of person was she interested in having as a companion? Would she moan or scream as he fucked her cunt raw?

North growled low in his throat, shaking his head and forcing his attention back to the paper. He jotted notes on toy production, considering ways to streamline inventory tracking and increase automation for simpler designs. Christmas was only eight months away, after all.

But his mind betrayed him again, conjuring images of Azaria’s peaceful face as she slept. Did she prefer chocolate chip or double chocolate cookies? Neither? What kind of fireworks would light the sky while he pounded her ass, his every touch and thrust drawing the sweetest cries from her lips?

North tossed the pencil onto the desk in frustration, his large hand hovering over the communicator, tempted to distract himself by checking on Phil and the reindeer. But he stopped short. They were fine. Phil was fine. It wasn’t them he was avoiding—it was himself and the sinful storm of thoughts swirling in his head.

Would she stay quiet like a good little thing if he edged her on a rooftop, his tongue teasing her clit as fireworks burst around them? What does she scream if he pinned her down, skin gleaming with sweat as she begged him for release?  Would her pleasure be loud enough to drown out the explosions?

North’s hand clenched the edge of the desk, his knuckles whitening. He unfurled an old map of their most recent battle and began marking areas of vulnerability, forcing himself to calculate strategies for shoring up their defenses. Yet every creak of the bed in the adjoining chambers, every imagined shift of her body as she stirred in sleep, amplified in his mind.

But he stayed rooted in his chair, forcing himself to focus on maps and blueprints for the next hour. Every mark on the page was a battle against the pull of the woman who, against all odds, had become more important to him than he could admit.

Finally, he reached for the communicator, pressing the button with a growl. “Hot chocolate,” he muttered, his voice gruff but softened by a hint of need. “Bring it to the office.”

Minutes later, the jingling of bells and scurrying feet echoed down the hall. The door creaked open, revealing three elves balancing a large tray. Their eager faces peeked around the edge, one nearly toppling under the weight of oversized mugs.

North’s stern expression melted into a faint smile as he crouched down to their level. “Good work,” he rumbled, taking the tray from their hands with a careful grip. One of the elves puffed out his chest proudly, while another gave a toothy grin and adjusted his lopsided hat.

“Ah, you made the marshmallows extra big,” North noted, his tone warm with approval. “Perfect. Just what I need.”

The smallest elf tugged at his coat, chittering something unintelligible but filled with affection. North chuckled, ruffling the elf’s hat gently. “Yes, yes, you are best hot chocolate makers in both Poles. Go now, get rest. Tomorrow, busy day.”

The elves scampered off, their giggles trailing behind them as North carried the tray to his desk. He set it down, the rich aroma filling the room as he poured himself a mug. 

Just as he placed the mug back on the desk, the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted the stillness. One of the elves had returned, his tiny frame barely able to stop in time before bumping into North’s knee.

“Hmm?” North looked down, his thick brows furrowing in confusion.

The elf looked up at him with wide, tearful eyes, chittering softly. Without hesitation, the little creature threw its arms around North’s leg, holding on tightly in a gesture filled with childlike affection and sympathy.

North froze for a moment, the weight of the elf’s gesture piercing through the icy wall he had built to keep his grief contained. His large hand rested gently on the elf’s back, his voice barely above a murmur. “Thank you, little one. Truly.”

The elf lingered for a heartbeat longer before looking up at him, nodding as though to say, You’re not alone. Then, with a small wave, it scurried out of the room, leaving North in a silence that felt both heavier and lighter at once.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the door that led to his chambers. The thought of Azaria resting in his bed, fragile yet undeniably strong, clawed at him again. He gripped the edge of his desk, willing himself to stay rooted in place.

The warmth of the drink seeped into his hands, offering a momentary distraction from the turmoil in his chest. He sipped slowly, letting the bittersweet taste settle his nerves, though the pull toward the adjoining chambers never fully faded.

In the confines of the bedroom, Azaria stirred, her body shifting against the plush mattress. The soft sheets, fragrant with spices she couldn’t quite place, wrapped around her like a cocoon. Her lashes fluttered as her mind struggled to catch up with her senses. For a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was, the hazy edges of her memory refusing to solidify.

The dim amber glow of the room gradually sharpened, illuminating its grand yet inviting design. Rich red hues dominated the space, from the intricately woven tapestries depicting stories of bravery and celebration to the deep crimson drapes framing the oversized windows. The wooden beams above, dark and polished, stretched high to a vaulted ceiling, giving the room a sense of both warmth and majesty.

Her gaze drifted to the massive doors, carved with swirling patterns of snowflakes and northern lights. They stood as silent guardians of the man who called this castle home, their intricate designs speaking of both power and protection.

The bed she lay in practically swallowed her whole, its sturdy wooden frame adorned with delicate carvings of reindeer and sleighs, as though the essence of North’s legacy had been etched into its every detail. Thick fur blankets enveloped her, their comforting weight grounding her. The faint scent of pine and spice clung to the air and the sheets, anchoring her in the reality of where she was.

Azaria sat up slowly, her body protesting the movement with a dull ache. Every muscle felt heavy, worn down from the battle still echoing in her mind. Fragments of memory began rushing back—Sandy’s death, the suffocating fear as she fell, and finally, the strong arms that caught her, enveloping her in a steadiness that she hadn’t realized she’d needed so desperately.

Her gaze wandered, taking in the details of the room once more. The oversized hearth on the far wall glowed faintly with embers, casting flickering shadows across the walls. A large wooden table nearby was scattered with maps and tools, remnants of careful planning and strategy. The soft glow of lanterns added warmth to the space, the shadows they cast dancing like echoes of the room’s larger-than-life owner.

And yet, in this moment, despite the magnitude of everything, Azaria felt safe. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around her as much as the blankets, a quiet reassurance that held her fragile state together. The faint hum of the castle’s silence settled her frayed nerves, though her chest still tightened with the weight of her loss.

She ran her fingers along the edge of the fur-lined blanket, her thoughts swirling as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Sandy was gone. The one who had been like a brother to her, a guide through the turbulent early years of understanding her powers, was gone. A sob built in her chest, her nails digging into the fur as she tried to contain it. The memories came fast and hard of Sandy’s beaming smile, his patient guidance, the way he always seemed to know what she needed to hear.

Her breathing quickened, anguish washing over her in relentless waves. He had been her anchor, the one who made her feel seen and understood when the weight of her powers became too much to bear. The thought of continuing without him felt unbearable.

But then she paused, forcing herself to exhale slowly, deeply, until her trembling began to subside. This wasn’t the time to crumble. She needed to find her footing, to piece together what came next. For Sandy. For herself.

And for the man who had carried her here, into his sanctuary.

Her mind shifted to North, the towering presence who had brought her to safety. The memory of his unyielding arms catching her, steady and sure, played in her mind. Despite her grief, she found herself drawn to him, his protective strength offering a glimmer of solace. She hadn’t realized how much she craved that steadiness until she felt it.

Her fingers tightened around the blanket as she fought the desire to seek him out, to let him shoulder some of the burden she carried. She wanted to hear his voice, deep and grounding, and feel the warmth of his presence again. The need for comfort warred with the fear of leaning too much, of appearing weak.

But in this space, in his space, she felt something she hadn’t expected—permission to be vulnerable. And perhaps, if she allowed herself that vulnerability, she might find the strength she needed to carry on.

Leaning back against the headboard, Azaria exhaled deeply, her body still buzzing with exhaustion. The warmth of the room wrapped around her, soft and all-encompassing, so different from the chaos she had just left behind. She reached up, loosening the laces of her corset with unsteady fingers. The garment slipped down her torso, pooling onto the bed in a heap of fabric and tension.

Her gown followed, sliding off her shoulders and pooling around her ankles. In the firelight, her full figure came into view, curves soft and unapologetic. Her wide hips melted into thick thighs, her stomach rounded with a slight pudge that she didn’t let herself think too much about. Her breasts, large and unrestrained, rose and fell as she stretched, the absence of the corset bringing instant relief.

Her hands lingered as she brushed them over her stomach, up to her chest, her thumbs grazing her nipples as she let herself exhale. It wasn’t indulgent, not really. Just... something grounding. Her body had been through a lot tonight—she had been through a lot—and this small moment of comfort helped her settle, even just a little.

Her eyes flicked to the chair in the corner, where North’s fur-lined coat hung like it belonged to a king. Beside it, a neatly folded shirt caught her attention. It was enormous, meant for him and no one else. She snorted softly, the first hint of amusement cracking through her haze of exhaustion. The shirt practically begged to be stolen.

Without overthinking it, she picked it up, the fabric softer than she expected, warm like it had absorbed a part of him. She pulled it over her head, and the smell hit her immediately—pine, spice, and something undeniably North. It was ridiculous how comforting it was, how much she liked the way it felt. It swallowed her whole, the hem brushing mid-thigh, the sleeves hanging past her hands. She looked down at herself, letting out a soft laugh. If North saw her like this, he’d probably think she’d lost her mind.

Or would he?

The thought made her stomach twist in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Her laughter faded, replaced by a warmth that wasn’t just from the fire. North. He was... a lot . Towering, commanding, and steady in a way that made her feel safe without ever having to say it out loud. But he was also kind in ways that caught her off guard, like the way he’d carried her here without hesitation, like she belonged in his arms.

She smoothed her hands over the shirt, as if it could somehow settle the way her heart sped up when she thought of him. Did he think about her the way she couldn’t stop thinking about him? Was he even capable of it? North was the embodiment of strength, of protection, of larger-than-life determination. And she was... well, Azaria. She embodied renewal and hope, technically, but that didn’t mean she believed in it. Not for herself.

The scars of past heartbreaks pulled at the edges of her mind. Love had always been a dangerous game, one she’d played and lost before. And now here she was, wrapped in his shirt, imagining something she had no right to. Her fingers tightened on the hem, nerves creeping in. 

Could she really let herself hope for something more? Could she risk it?

Azaria blew out a breath, shaking her head. Overthinking wouldn’t get her anywhere. If nothing else, she owed him a thank-you for everything he’d done tonight. That much she could manage. She padded toward the adjoining office, the oversized shirt swishing softly around her legs. 

The warmth of the room had done wonders for her body, but her mind was another story. She had to see him, to make sure he was okay—not just because of the weight of the day, but because she couldn’t shake the pull she felt toward him.

Each step toward the office felt like crossing some invisible line she couldn’t uncross. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, and her lips pressed together as she paused at the door. Did she want to flirt with him? Maybe. Did she want him to want her back? Absolutely. But the fear of putting herself out there, of hoping for something she might not get, made her chest tighten. She bit her lip, steeling herself.

Azaria knocked softly before pushing the door open, the sight of him at his desk hitting her like a wave. Broad shoulders, sharp focus, and the kind of presence that could fill a room without trying. 

A large bookshelf stretched along the wall behind and to the right of him, packed with tomes of varying sizes. Trunks and smaller bookshelves littered the floor, their contents hinting at a life steeped in stories, toys, and responsibilities.

North sat at his desk, his broad back to her, hunched slightly as he scribbled something on a parchment. The glow of the lanterns cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the tension in his shoulders. 

‘ Yeeaaah, I’m in deep trouble, ” she thought, feeling a shock of pleasure that made her pussy clench.  But maybe…it was a kind of trouble worth hoping for.

She hesitated for a moment, her presence a whisper against the quiet hum of the space.

“North?” Her voice was soft, unsure.

He turned, his icy blue eyes landing on her instantly. His expression shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he took her in. There she was, wearing his shirt, the hem brushing mid-thigh, her figure framed by the doorway. 

The beast inside him purred, his cock twitching as dark satisfaction washed over him at the sight of her in his clothes. North wanted to command her to crawl to him, to let him yank up the shirt and spread her cheeks, his tongue diving into her folds, lapping at her hungrily while his finger teased her tightest spot. The thought clawed at him, raw and unrelenting. But instead…

“You’re awake,” he rumbled, his voice softer than he expected. He leaned back slightly, gesturing toward the desk. “Come. Sit.”

Azaria stepped closer, her bare feet silent against the wooden floor. She hopped up onto the edge of a cushioned chair, the sturdy surface large enough to hold two more people. Her legs swung slightly as she leaned back on her hands, her gaze wandering around the room before finally settling on him.

North reached for the mug on his desk, its deep blue surface emblazoned with his name in bold golden cursive. He held it out to her, steam curling lazily in the air. “Drink. Will help.”

Azaria accepted it with a shy nod, her smaller hands brushing against his. The brief contact sent a spark between them, and she glanced up, her voice quiet. “Thank you. Blue’s my favorite color.”

“Is it now?” North’s lips curved faintly. “Mine tends to change, but recently, I’ve found a newfound adoration for gold.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she took a sip, the rim of the mug blocking her view as her mind raced at the flirtatious undertone. She wasn’t sure how to process the heat it sent through her chest, but the way his gaze lingered on her made her heart pound louder.

North leaned back in his chair, his eyes drawn to the subtle swing of her feet as they dangled. Her toes were delicate, arches graceful. He clenched his jaw, forcing away the unbidden thoughts that crept in, grounding himself with the firm grip of his chair’s armrests.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Azaria said softly, her tone tentative.

“Hm?” North blinked, realizing he hadn’t heard her fully.

“I said I hope you don’t mind—me borrowing this,” she clarified, tugging nervously at the oversized shirt she wore. “It was just... there.”

His gaze swept over her, the shirt hanging loosely on her frame, looking impossibly right. “It suits you,” he murmured, his voice low. “Better than it ever did on me.”

North’s restraint hung by a thread, his jaw clenching as heat coursed through him. His cock stirred to life, his muscles taut as he fought against the primal instincts clawing at his resolve. He was a man of immense strength, even before he had awoken in his role as Guardian.

 If he really wanted to, North could simply toss aside the oak desk, be on top of her in a flash. Before she could say a word, he could so easily rip the shirt from her, bend her ass over his knee, and slap her ass until those plump globes turned a delicious red, then drive his fat cock into that dipping wet pussy like the lust-driven animal she was turning him into until she was full of his cum and sobbing his name.   

But now, with her standing there in his shirt, teasing him without even knowing it, that strength felt more like a test than a gift.

The thought made his jaw tighten, his fingers flexing at his sides. But he didn’t move. Not yet.

Her blush deepened as she smiled shyly. “Thank you for letting me sleep in your room, by the way. That bed? Super comfy. You better watch out,” she teased, glancing up at him. “I might start sneaking in to nap there.”

“I’ll give you the key,” he replied, his voice calm but loaded with sincerity.

Her smile faltered at the weight of his words, the intensity in his gaze stealing her breath. For a moment, she could only stare, her chest tightening with a mix of nervousness and something deeper.

The silence grew, charged and thick. North leaned forward slightly, his piercing eyes locking with hers. “You feel comfortable here?” he asked, his tone soft.

Azaria nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I do. It feels...safe.” 

Satisfaction surged through him, his chest tightening with a need to ensure that feeling never left her. “Good,” he said firmly. “You are safe here.”

But then his expression darkened. “Today, though... you pushed too hard. It was reckless. Dangerous.”

Azaria’s gaze dropped, her shoulders tensing. “I had to,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with defiance. “There wasn’t a choice.”

“There is always choice,” North countered gently, though his tone carried weight.

Her lips parted, but the truth of his words settled like a stone in her chest. The tone in his voice wasn’t scold, more so that of genuine concern. Azaria almost didn't want to admit the way it rooted her in place.

“You are strong,” he continued, his tone softening. “But strength is knowing when to fight... and when to rest, even when it hurts.”

She swallowed hard, gripping the mug tighter. “I’ll try to be more careful.”,” she whispered. 

“Not try. We almost lost you. Do,” North said firmly, his voice dipping. His next words came so low she wasn't sure she heard him correctly. “I almost lost you... before I even had you.”

Her chest tightened, her gaze falling as her breath hitched. “We lost Sandy,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I couldn’t stop it. I-I wasn’t str-strong enough.”

North moved closer, his heavy steps deliberate, grounding. “Sandy accepted his fate,” he said. “He did not back down, even in death. Now his strength lives on in us. You honored him by fighting, Azaria. But for now, you must rest.”

She glanced up at him, disbelief flickering in her eyes as she slid off the desk and wandered toward the nearest bookshelf. Her fingers brushed along the spines of books lined neatly on the shelves—war strategies, toy designs, even baking recipes. The variety made her lips twitch in faint amusement, though her heart still ached.

“Sandy’s vigil is in about three hours,” he murmured, her fingers lingering on a well-worn spine. “Maybe you should get some more sleep.”

Her voice wavered slightly, her vulnerability cracking through. Hand stilling, Azaria turned toward him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Hell no, I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to. I don’t know how to stop, North. Whether it’s the thinking or the emotions... they swallow me whole. I’m terrified that if I stop, it’ll hurt too much.”

North’s gaze softened, his towering frame seeming less imposing as he stepped closer. “Sometimes, stopping is harder than fighting,” he said gently. “But you don’t have to carry it alone. Not here. Not with me, nor the others. We will always be there for you, whether you accept Guardian position or not, you and Jack are part of us.”

Azaria blinked, his words settling over her like a balm she didn’t know she needed. Her lips parted as their eyes locked, her voice trembling as she asked, “Why? Why are you doing this? For me?”

His expression didn’t falter, his tone steady. “Because you are worth it,” he said, as though it were the most obvious truth in the world. “Because you make me feel alive in a way I haven’t in centuries.”

Her breath caught, her heartbeat loud in her ears as his words washed over her. He leaned back slightly, icy blue globes looked her over like she was some rare sight to be seen.

“Tell me something about you, Azaria. Something, anything that you're willing to let me know.” The shift in his tone surprised her, but she welcomed it, clutching onto the chance to move the conversation to safer ground. 

“Like what?” she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything,” he encouraged. “What do you dream of? What makes you laugh? What’s the one thing you never tell anyone?”

Her lips quirked into a faint smile. “I dream of making a more fulfilling life for myself, of being myself more around others. I laugh when I’m sassing back and forth with Topper while I’m in my workshop crafting. And... I never tell anyone I’m terrified of letting people down.”

North nodded thoughtfully, his gaze steady. “Your turn,” Azaria said, her voice quieter now. “What about you?”

His lips curved faintly, his voice lowering. “I dream of finding peace. I laugh when Bunny pretends not to care about Christmas... and thinks I do not care for his Easter.” He paused, his blue eyes locking with hers. “And... I never tell anyone how lonely I’ve been. Until now.”

The admission hung in the air, heavy and electric, wrapping around them like a shared secret. Azaria’s heart clenched, the raw honesty in his words hitting her harder than she expected. Before she could find the  words to respond, North stepped closer, his presence commanding yet gentle.

Coming up behind her, he bent low, his broad hands finding the small of her back. His fingers pressed deep into the tense muscles, expertly working through the knots that had formed there. Azaria’s head fell back against his chest, her lips parting as her body melted into his touch. The tension that had anchored her began to dissolve under his firm, deliberate pressure.

Her breath quickened as his hand moved to her shoulder, grounding her further. “You carry too much,” he murmured, his voice low, rich with concern. “Let me help.”

North’s hands worked their way across her back, his movements precise, each touch radiating a gentleness that belied his strength. Her head tilted back, her body leaning into him as if surrendering was the only option.

“You’re so much different than I could’ve expected, so much more ferocious yet…gentle if that makes any sorta sense” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“I understand, I like to say that being gentle is not weakness,” he replied, almost a rumble above her ear. “It’s knowing when to be strong and when to heal.”

A faint smile curved her lips, her eyes fluttering shut as her body relaxed under his care. 

“You surprise me,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “In ways I never thought possible.”

“North,” she whispered, her voice trembling as emotions she couldn’t fully name bubbled to the surface.

He leaned down, his warmth enveloping her as he stood behind her. “You are safe with me, Azaria,” he said, his hands pausing briefly, grounding her in his presence. “Trust me. Let me ease your burdens... like I’ve craved to do since the moment I met you.”

Azaria had always been sensitive to touch, whether casual or sensual, and North seemed to know exactly how to tap into that. His thumbs moved in slow, deliberate circles, traveling across her back with practiced precision.

The motion unraveled her, each stroke sending waves of relaxation down her spine, leaving her powerless to stop the way her body writhed under his touch. North’s hands moved with practiced precision, his thumbs circling slow and deliberate, unraveling knots she didn’t even know were there.

She could feel his eyes on her, burning with an intent that sent heat rushing to her core. His gaze didn’t waver, studying her every reaction, adjusting the pressure whenever a particular motion made her gasp or arch her body just a little more. It was like he was reading her mind, fine-tuning his touch to meet her every need.

Oh, Lord, this man’s hands... like sin wrapped in silk and dipped in honey. Who taught him to touch like this? Jesus? Her thoughts spiraled, unfiltered. I shouldn’t be liking this so much. Hell, even liking him this much feels dangerous. But damn, I’ve never been touched like this before, and if he stops now, I swear, we’re gonna have a problem.

Her breath hitched again, a soft whimper slipping past her lips before she could stop it. Her hands darted to the edge of the bookshelf in front of her, gripping it desperately as her legs threatened to give out.

“Da, just like that,” North hummed, his deep voice low and soothing, yet laced with something raw. “I’ve got you, Azaria.”

The words sent a shiver through her, his reassurance grounding her even as his hands kept her unraveling. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her lips parting as if to speak, though no words came.

She gasped sharply, lightheadedness creeping over her as the sheer intimacy of his touch. He wasn’t just easing her tension; he was unraveling her walls, coaxing her into a state of surrender she had never experienced before.

Soft groans and whimpers from her, her body melting under his care. When her knees buckled and balance wavered, his left hand slid around her throat, firm yet steady, pulling her back against him.

“Easy,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. 

The other hand slipped to her hip, fingers splayed possessively as his thumb continued its maddening rhythm. The cool metal of his thumb ring grazed her skin, leaving faint red marks against her caramel complexion.

Her eyes flicked to the ‘Naughty’ tattoo inked across his forearm, the bold letters a taunt, a promise of all the sinful things he could do to her. 

Heat pooled between her thighs as images of him taking her apart danced in her mind. She imagined that same arm gripping her hair, holding her in place while his fingers worked her over, thrusting deep and curling to find every sensitive spot.

Before she could stop herself, a moan escaped her lips, her head tilting back against his chest, just under his pecs. 

“Beautiful,” North murmured, his voice reverent, almost in awe. “You’re even more beautiful like this. I can’t wait anymore - ”

Suddenly, he grabbed her by the hips, lifting her with effortless strength and setting her on the cool, polished wood of the bookshelf. Azaria squeaked in surprise, her wide eyes meeting his, dazed and breathless.

He stepped closer, his massive frame swallowing hers completely. Her legs straddled one of his thighs, unable to spread further around his imposing build. Holy fuck, he’s fucking huge..like bigger than that bodybuilder dude, Brian Shaw. 

    ❤️‍🔥🔥❤️‍🔥🔥❤️‍🔥🔥

Pressed this close, she felt impossibly small, enveloped in his shadow. The overwhelming size difference didn’t intimidate her; it made her feel safe, as though she belonged nowhere else but here, in his grasp.

North’s hand on her throat tightened slightly when she tried to roll her body away from a particularly pleasant shock, a reminder of his dominance. 

He pressed his thumb along the underside of her jaw, coaxing her to tilt her head. His narrowed eyes traced the rise and fall of her chest, captivated by the way her breath quickened.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured, his voice like velvet dipped in steel. “Be a good girl for me, da?”

Her lips parted, and she let out a shaky laugh, the brat in her clawing its way to the surface. “Mm, th-that’s asking a lot from me,” she teased, her words slurring slightly as her body melted under his touch.

North’s lips curled into a wry smirk as his hand tightened around her jaw, his thumb gliding across her chin and sending a rush of warmth through her. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words never came—he was already sliding his hand to her thigh, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh while that sinful thumb traced slow circles closer to her inner thigh.

A startled gasp escaped her, and she clutched his shirt in a desperate attempt to steady herself. Her body shivered under the electric jolts of his touch.

“Didn’t you know, sweet girl?” he murmured, leaning in and beard grazing her cheek.

She managed a small shake of her head, her eyes fluttering, legs trembling as he eased the pressure of his ministrations just enough to tease.

He brought his lips close to her ear, voice dropping to a low rumble. “Good girls get treats,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to the shell of her ear.

She whimpered, a soft, breathless sound, her free hand instinctively finding his beard and tugging gently. The sharp hiss he released sent a jolt through her, a fire coursing through her veins that made her thighs clench around him.

“Oh my fucking God,” she breathed, her words slurring, dazed with need.

North felt no hesitation, no resistance from her. If anything, her hips pressed forward into his touch, seeking more, her thighs squeezing against him in silent demand. His eyes darkened, the primal edge of his dominance flaring as he leaned closer.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice low and unyielding. “Be a good girl and listen.”

Her eyes fluttered up to meet his, wide and locked onto him, her breath hitching as her focus narrowed entirely on his words.

“I’m going to finger you,” he said, his tone deliberate, each word dripping with intent.

Her eyes snapped fully open, her body frozen yet alight with anticipation. North smirked, satisfaction curling across his face as he saw the hunger in her gaze.

“Unless you say otherwise in the next ten seconds,” he continued, his voice dropping into a growl, “I’m going to finger fuck you right here, in my office, on this bookshelf. I’ll work you until your slick coats the wood, until you can think of nothing but the feel of my fingers. Until your throat is raw from crying my name.”

Her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling as his words sank in. The tension in the air was electric, crackling between them like a storm ready to break.

“Is that clear?” North growled, his grip on her tightening just enough to ground her, his piercing gaze demanding an answer. “Use your words.”

Azaria blinked, her chest rising and falling as she processed his words. Her lips parted, her face flushing deeply, but instead of submission, a spark of mischief ignited in her eyes.

“Ten seconds, huh?” she said, her tone laced with teasing defiance. “What happens if I just... don’t answer?” Her thighs shifted against him, pressing tighter, as though testing his patience.

North’s smirk faltered, replaced by something darker, more primal. His grip on her hip tightened, fingers digging into her flesh with a possessive force. “You really want to play this game, kotenok ?” he rumbled, his voice a warning. “You think I won’t remind you who’s in control?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, her expression one of faux innocence. “I don’t know,” she replied, feigning thoughtfulness. “You seem all talk right now. I mean, here we are, and yet…” She trailed off, letting her words hang in the air, daring him.

A low growl rumbled from deep within North’s chest, his patience snapping. “Enough,” he said, his voice sharp, commanding. Without giving her time to react, he spun her back around, pressing her chest against the cool surface of the bookshelf. His large hand splayed across her lower back, keeping her firmly in place.

“You want to act like a brat?” he growled, his tone laced with both irritation and desire. “Fine. But you’ll learn what happens when you test me.”

Before she could respond, his palm came down on her ass with a sharp crack, the sting spreading instantly through her. A surprised gasp tore from her lips, followed by a low whimper as her body arched instinctively under his touch.

“Count,” North commanded, his voice firm and unrelenting.

Her breath hitched, her hands gripping the edges of the shelf as she tried to steady herself. “O-one,” she stammered, her voice trembling but laced with defiance.

The next smack came sharper, landing squarely on the curve of her ass. A sharp cry escaped her lips before she could stop it. “T-two,” she gasped, her voice breaking slightly.

“Louder,” North growled, his tone sending a shiver through her.

A third smack landed, harder this time, stinging only one cheek. Her body jolted, her thighs clenching as heat pooled low in her belly. “Three!” she cried out, her voice louder now, the mix of pain and pleasure unraveling her composure.

“Good girls get treats,” North reminded, his tone softening for a moment before he delivered the fourth spank. The sharp sting radiated through her, and she whimpered, her hips shifting instinctively, pressing forward.

“F-four,” she choked out, her breathing ragged as her arousal became undeniable. She was confident that she was starting to drip onto her thighs and the son of a bitch hadn’t even touched her yet!

North’s hand paused for a moment, his palm resting possessively on her heated skin. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he rumbled, “One more. Make it count.”

The fifth and final smack came down, the sound sharp, echoing in the quiet room. Azaria cried out, her back arching, her thighs pressing together as the ache melted into something far sweeter.

“Five,” she whispered, her voice breathy, almost reverent.

“Good girl,” North repeated, his tone rich with approval, though the fire in his eyes hadn’t dimmed. His hand slid over her now-sensitive skin, soothing the sting with deliberate care. The possessiveness in his touch was unmistakable, his fingers kneading lightly as though claiming her completely.

His hand slipped lower, brushing against her inner thigh, and he chuckled darkly when he felt how slick she had become. “You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Azaria bit her lip, refusing to answer, but her body betrayed her, hips shifting back toward him.

“Still being a brat, hmm?” 

North let out a dark chuckle, his free hand sliding to her throat, tilting her head back so she could meet his gaze. “Oh, but don’t worry , ” he said, his smirk returning, wicked and full of promise. “You’ll remember to speak when I’m done with you.”

Without waiting for a response, he let his hand slip lower, his fingers trailing between her thighs. “Now, let’s see how long that attitude lasts when I make you scream.”

Slipping an index finger into her soft crease, he explored, brushing against the small patch of hair at her mound before parting the velvety lips below. 

Azaria’s eyes rolled back as her head dropped onto the bookshelf, a soft whimper escaping her lips. North’s fingers slid between her wet folds, his touch maddeningly slow. He traced her slick heat, his fingers dipping just enough to tease her entrance before circling it, making her hips instinctively push back against him.

“Ah, ah, wait,” North murmured, his voice low and commanding. His gaze remained fixed on her, entranced by the way her body reacted to him. The creamy slick coating his fingers made his teeth clench, the primal part of him roaring at the way she seemed to respond so easily, so perfectly.

He teased her entrance again, slipping just the tip of his finger inside. His jaw tightened at the sensation, the way her walls seemed to pull him in, clinging to him like she was made for his touch.

“More,” she panted, her voice needy as she wiggled her hips, desperate for friction. “Please.”

The sound of her begging sent a thrill through him, but instead of giving in, his palm cracked against her already tender ass, drawing a sharp yelp from her.

“I said wait,” he growled, his voice firm as he rubbed the spot he had just struck, his touch alternating between soothing and possessive.

His other hand kneaded her ass, his thumb pressing into a spot she didn’t even know existed. A sharp squeal tore from her throat as her body jolted, a fresh gush of slick spilling onto his fingers.

North chuckled darkly, his lips curving into a wicked smirk. “Look at that,” he murmured, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “You’re dripping for me, kotenok. So responsive, so perfect.”

Azaria whimpered again, her breath ragged, her hips instinctively moving to seek more of his touch. But North kept her firmly in place, his hand pressing against her lower back.

“Patience,” he said, his voice a low, velvety growl. “I’ll give you what you need, but only when I’m ready. And when I do? You’ll take every bit of it, won’t you?”

“Yes sir,” she whimpered. 

He hummed in approval, fingers circling her clit in slow circles, the sound of her slick starting to surround them. Her hips twitched, feet tapping against the floor while she panted, fighting the urge to run from the pleasure. Hand sliding up the curve of her back, his dick bulged at the sight, the arch and dip of her back just screaming to be marked with his bitemarks and cum. 

Gripping the back of her neck to her in place, North adjusted the angle of his wrist, pumping his finger faster causing her to jolt, landing herself back onto his finger harder than he had thrusting. 

“Oh, fuck! Ugh, yes, yes,” Azaria gasped, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them. She bit down on her lower lip, trying desperately to stifle her cries. Whether it was the late-night quiet or her stubborn pride, she wasn’t sure. Maybe she just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing how close she was to losing all control.

But her body betrayed her, trembling and slick with arousal, her mind spinning at the overwhelming pleasure. Don’t drool, don’t drool, she thought frantically, her pride hanging on by a thread. You are not some bitch in heat getting knotted in the middle of the street.

“Da, open up, come on,” North rumbled, his voice deep and commanding as he slipped another thick finger inside her. Her walls clenched tighter around him, earning a satisfied growl from his chest.

“Open up for me, baby,” he coaxed, his words rough yet tender, filled with promise. “Let me give that pussy the fucking it needs.”

Azaria’s body obeyed before her mind could catch up, her slick coating his fingers as she cried out, her hips bucking against his hand.

North leaned down, his lips brushing against the small of her back as he began a slow, deliberate trail of kisses along her spine. His fingers pumped faster, each thrust exploring her walls, tracking the curves and ridges that made her body tremble beneath his touch.

He adjusted his angle, curling his fingers slightly, and a new wave of pleasure tore through her. Azaria’s body practically vibrated, her moans rising in pitch as she surrendered completely to him, every nerve alive and responding to his every move.

“Aghn, yes, oh fuck yes” 

“That’s my girl,” North murmured against her skin, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “So perfect. So fucking perfect for me.”

Azaria let out a cry when he suddenly removed his finger from her, pouting and dazed eyes glaring back at him to see why he had the audacity to take away the very thing he’d promised. He chuckled, cock throbbing at the wild, devious look in her eyes. 

Taking her calf, he eased it up onto the bookshelf, gripping her neck tighter to balance her as he guided her until she was spread frog legged on top of the bookshelf, her knees near the edge.

“Oh fuck, shit! Wait, what are you…” she trailed off with a wordless moan as he flickered clit to silence her. 

Her eyes widened as she felt North insert his fingers again, the new angle allowing him much more access, the new angles making him finger her deeper. 

“Agh, fuck! Shit, shit, ahhn, fuck,” Azaria panted, her body twitching and jolting uncontrollably. She wanted to throw her hips back to meet him, to chase the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her, but North’s firm grip on her neck kept her in place, a steady anchor against her writhing.

Lowering himself to his knees, North groped the soft globes of her ass, his large hands squeezing possessively. The lewd, wet sounds of her cunt echoed in the quiet room, juices squelching as his fingers pumped inside her. His movements were skilled and deliberate, teasing along the roof of her canal until he found the sensitive stretch of spongy flesh that made her buck and shudder beneath him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he mumbled to himself, his voice thick with lust. “Such a tight little thing.” His fingers moved faster, plunging in and out of her heat, only slowing when her body trembled too hard from overstimulation. He waited just long enough for her to catch her breath before picking up the pace again, his control relentless.

“North, please!” she cried out, her toes curling into the carpet as her hips tried to meet the rhythm of his curling fingers. He hooked them firmly, pressing against that perfect spot inside her that sent electric waves of pleasure through her core.

““Oh, fuck!” she keened, her hand flying to her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle her cries. But her moans only grew louder, her voice rising in pitch with every curl and thrust of North’s fingers.

A low growl rumbled from his throat, raw and primal, the urge to claim her consuming him entirely. Leaning forward, he parted her cheeks, his tongue darting out to tease her tight, puckered asshole.

“Yes, Daddy,” she gasped, her voice breaking as her body jolted from the unexpected sensation. “Oh, fuck, I’ll be your good girl—please, North, just don’t stop!”

Her hips bucked wildly against his mouth, her panting breaths fogging the wooden shelf she leaned on. Her cheeks burned a deep red, the pleasure tearing her apart and leaving her trembling, panting, utterly undone.

North groaned into her skin, his tongue working her with a feral hunger that matched the possessiveness in his grip. “Good girl,” he murmured against her flesh, the praise vibrating through her sensitive body. “You’ll take everything I give you. Every last bit.”

Azaria’s cries were broken, her body shuddering as her pussy clenched and released around his fingers, the waves of ecstasy pulling her deeper into the haze. North was mesmerized, watching the way his fingers slid in and out of her without resistance, her slick coating him and dripping freely. The heady scent and taste of her filled his senses, intoxicating him further.

When he withdrew his fingers, her lips parted in a desperate whimper. His gaze dropped to her glistening folds, slightly gaping, her creamy essence leaking onto his beard. Without hesitation, he flattened his tongue against her folds, dragging it up in one slow, deliberate motion that made his eyes roll back.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he thought, groaning as he lapped at her greedily. He sucked on her entrance, tongue darting inside to taste more of her, his arm encircling her waist to hold her steady. His grip was ironclad, pulling her closer as his tongue delved deeper, rimming her before plunging back into her cunt.

Russian curses and guttural growls joined the symphony of Azaria’s cries. Her body writhed against him, grinding herself into his face as her hand reached back, gripping his hair and pulling him closer.

“I’m gonna cum,” she gasped, her voice high and desperate. “Holy shit, it feels like I’m gonna pass out.”

North growled, lifting his head briefly, his beard glistening with her slick as he looked up at her, his blue eyes dark and commanding. “Do it,” he growled, his voice rough with dominance. “Cum for me, Azaria. Grind that sweet pussy onto me, yess. You’re mine now, and I’m yours. Yuu’re not going any- fucking- where.”

His tongue returned to her with relentless fervor, his fingers replacing it inside her, curling against that spot that made her scream. Azaria’s body seized, her breath hitching before she shattered completely.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. “ Let me see that pretty cunt squirt for me.”

Her scream echoed in the room as her body convulsed, her release gushing from her as she squirted, covering his neck and chest . North caught her as her legs buckled, her thighs trembling uncontrollably as her spasms overtook her. She nearly toppled forward off the bookshelf, but his strong arms held her firmly in place, grounding her against him.

Azaria slumped against the shelf, her body spent and trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. North pressed a kiss to her lower back, his grip unyielding, as though letting her go was never an option. And for him, it wasn’t. She was his now, and nothing would change that.

Azaria slumped against the shelf, her body trembling, her breaths shallow and ragged as the aftershocks coursed through her. North pressed a lingering kiss to her lower back, his beard brushing her sensitive skin. His hands gripped her firmly, possessively, as though releasing her wasn’t just impossible—it was unthinkable.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, the words rumbling low, almost guttural. “No one else will touch you. No one else will hear the sounds you make for me. Only me.”

She shivered at the finality in his voice, too spent to respond but somehow comforted by his unrelenting hold.

North straightened, his towering form casting a shadow over her. Gently, he wrapped an arm around her waist, his other hand slipping under her knees. With ease, he lifted her from the bookshelf, cradling her against his chest. She barely stirred, her body limp from exhaustion, her head resting against his shoulder as he carried her out of the office.

His steps were slow, deliberate, each one resonating with a quiet intensity. As they moved through the dimly lit halls of his chambers, something shifted in him. The darker presence stirring in his chest, rising to the surface. It wasn’t unfamiliar; it had always been there, buried deep for the last few centuries. But with her in his arms, vulnerable and completely his, it demanded to be acknowledged.

North pushed open the door to the bathroom, the warm glow of lanterns reflecting off the polished stone walls. The room was expansive, fitting for someone of his size, with a large, claw-footed tub at its center. He set her down on a cushioned bench beside the tub, his movements careful as though she might shatter under too much force.

“Stay,” he commanded softly, his tone firm but gentle as he began filling the tub with warm water, the sound of rushing water echoing in the room.

Azaria stirred slightly, her lashes fluttering as she glanced up at him. Her voice was barely a whisper. “North…”

He crouched in front of her, his massive hands framing her face as his thumb brushed her cheek. His gaze was darker now, a storm brewing in those icy-blue eyes, the softness from earlier replaced with something more primal, more dangerous.

“You need to rest,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But understand this: what I gave you tonight was only the beginning. There’s a part of me—” He paused, his jaw tightening as he fought for control. “A part of me that’s been waiting for you, Azaria. Waiting for someone strong enough to take what I am.”

Her breath hitched at the weight of his words, a flicker of unease mingling with curiosity as she searched his face.

“You’ve woken something in me,” he continued, his voice dropping further, rough with unspoken promises. “Something darker. Something that demands I claim you in every way. You’ve felt a piece of it already, but there’s more. So much more.”

Azaria’s lips parted, her words caught in her throat as he stood, towering over her once again. North turned back to the tub, testing the water before shutting it off. He reached for her, lifting her with ease and placing her into the warm bath, the heat enveloping her sore, spent body.

He crouched by the edge, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned closer. “Rest now, kotenok, ” he murmured, his lips brushing her temple. “Because soon, you’ll know exactly what it means to belong to me.”

The finality of his words hung heavy in the air, his presence dark and imposing as he stood to leave. Azaria sank into the water, her mind swirling as she watched him disappear through the doorway, the echo of his promise lingering long after he was gone.

Chapter Text

Not even a second after the door clicked shut behind him, Azaria’s composure crumbled like a sandcastle meeting a wave. She froze for a beat, her eyes wide and lips pressed together, holding back a dam of disbelief, before bursting into a silent frenzy. Her arms flailed wildly, sending water sloshing against the walls of the large ceramic tub.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my goooooood! What the actual fuck?!” she hissed, pressing a hand to her forehead like it could physically keep her thoughts from spiraling out of control.

“Alright, alright. Let’s…take a minute,” she muttered, nodding to herself as if affirming her plan to no one but the empty room. “Yup, we’re gonna breathe. Process. Think.” She dipped her hands into the water, splashing her face in a desperate attempt to ignore the heat still burning beneath her skin. The deep breaths she took came in shallow, shaky gasps.

Her mind raced in a chaotic whirlwind. Should she squeal and kick her feet like a lovesick teenager? Climb out of the tub and demand he finish what he started? Or kick her own ass for letting it happen in the first place? Her stomach twisted with conflicting emotions. 

On the one hand, she relished knowing that North was as affected by her as she was by him. On the other, guilt crept in, a pang that refused to be ignored. Sandy’s death was still fresh, and here she was, caught in the throes of something so wildly inappropriate, so soon.

Azaria slumped deeper into the tub, her arms crossing tightly over her chest as she glared at the bathroom door like it had personally betrayed her with a pout. The water rippled around her as she shifted, her body tingling in the aftermath of his touch, her mind replaying every heated second.

“‘Relax,’ he says. Rest now, soon you'll know what it means to be mine,” she mimicked, lowering her voice to match his accent and tone, the exaggerated scowl on her face enough to rival a cartoon villain. 

She flicked water toward the door with a dramatic flourish. “Like it’s that simple. Pfft, like I’m supposed to just lie here all calm and cozy after that? Man’s got some nerve.”

She sank back, letting her head rest against the cool edge of the clawfoot tub. Her fingers absently swirled through the water, trying and failing to dispel the tension in her body. “And who told him he could be that fine, huh?” she grumbled, dragging her hands down her face. “With all those tattoos and muscles and that damn voice…” She groaned loudly, her exasperation aimed as much at herself as it was at him. “Ugh, there’s always gotta be something, shit can’t just go smoothly.”

Her hands dropped as her eyes fixed on the ceiling, her voice softening into a reluctant mutter. “Okay, so maybe he’s got a point. Maybe I do need to chill for a bit.”

Azaria leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees as she pointed an accusatory finger at the door, her lips pouting. “Let me tell you something, North. You don’t get to tell me what to do. If I’m relaxing, it’s because I want to, not because you said I should.” She pressed her lips together into a firm line, muttering under her breath, “Even if you’re probably right.”

Her eyes narrowed playfully, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “But next time? Oh, you better believe I’m making you work for it.”

A dramatic flick of her feet sent tiny ripples spreading across the surface of the water. “Talking about ‘soon.’ Soon, what? Soon I’m going to need a damn therapy session to unpack why you make me feel like this?” She groaned again, her hands flopping helplessly into the water.

A wave of foolishness crept up on her, clashing with the nerves gnawing at her stomach. She hated this feeling—like an imposter, someone who didn’t quite belong in the space she’d carved out for herself. She’d always prided herself on thriving in chaos. Her whole life had been chaos, from the nomadic days of her childhood to the fight for hope in a world battered by suffering, deceit, and her own lack of knowledge. Now, she worked in the dense wilderness of New Zealand, surrounded by the smell of smoke and burned earth, the scars of countless explosions dotting the landscape.

Her movements, her speech—everything about her was wild, impulsive, and expressive. Jack liked to joke that she must have some kind of attention deficit, always dashing off mid-sentence, chasing a bird, or distracted by something shiny.

But then... there was North. Since meeting him, she felt like she was finally standing still for the first time in her life—and she didn’t know if she liked it.

The room’s warmth and flickering lantern light began to work on her frayed nerves, and she let out a long sigh. Her lips quirked into a faint smile as she replayed the memory of North in Jamie’s bedroom, whooping and hollering like an overgrown child. That softness, that unguarded joy, was such a contrast to the commanding, dangerous presence he exuded elsewhere. It baffled her, yet it was part of what drew her in.

Her body still hummed with the memory of his touch, the way his hands had gripped her so thoroughly, claiming her without hesitation. 

"Fingers as thick as cigars," she muttered, a quiet, exasperated laugh escaping her. "What kind of ridiculous description is that, Azaria? But damn if it ain’t true." 

Her laughter died quickly, replaced by a soft groan as she leaned back again. “Then he’s got the nerve to say, ‘What I gave you tonight was only the beginning.’ Like, what does that even mean? Am I supposed to be excited? Scared? Both?”

The flicker of unease returned as she thought of the darker tone beneath his words. She’d heard the stories, the European folklore about a Santa who punished instead of rewarded. But North wasn't like that. He was intense, hell yeah, but not cruel. At least, she didn’t think so.

Azaria scrubbed a hand over her face, shaking the thought away as her focus shifted to the weightier matters still looming. Sandy’s burial. The threat of Pitch. Those things needed her attention more than whatever this was with North. That could wait.

She sat up straighter, grabbing the soap from the ornate dish beside the tub. Lathering it in her hands, she began washing herself, her movements deliberate, grounding herself in the present. Her gaze drifted over the room, finally taking in the details. The lantern light cast golden ripples along the polished stone walls, the clawfoot tub gleamed under the warm glow, and North’s shirt lay forgotten on the cushioned bench nearby.

Azaria’s fingers slowed as her gaze lingered on the shirt, the memory of his eyes locked on hers flashing through her mind. He hadn’t looked at her body, hadn’t stared at her nakedness. He’d only looked into her eyes, searching for discomfort, for pain. That, more than anything, left her unsettled in a way she couldn’t name.

Shaking off the thought, she rinsed off the soap and reached for the towel folded neatly on the bench. Wrapping it around herself, she padded across the room, her bare feet silent against the stone floor to the robe hanging on the wall.

It was thick, white, and plush, looking as if it had never been worn. She pulled it down, marveling at its weight and softness as she slipped it on. Tying the sash at her waist, she chuckled softly. The robe dwarfed her, its shoulders slipping slightly, leaving one side to drape off her shoulder, giving it the appearance of a luxurious off-the-shoulder gown. The hem trailed behind her as she moved, brushing the floor with a small Queen’s train.

“Well, well, this actually is kinda cute,” she muttered, admiring the look in a nearby full-length mirror.

Azaria’s eyes drifted to a vanity tucked neatly into the corner, its dark wood polished to a soft sheen. She padded over, her robe trailing behind her, and sucked her teeth when she realized the mirror and most of the items were positioned for someone far taller than her. The bench in front of it seemed like a polite suggestion rather than a practical solution.

“Really?” she muttered, standing on her tiptoes and stretching toward a small bottle perched just out of reach. After a few unsuccessful grabs, she sighed dramatically. “Either I’m hopping up there or kneeling on this damn bench. Choices, Azaria. Make smart choices.”

Grumbling, she climbed onto the cushioned bench and knelt, balancing herself as she reached for the bottle she’d spotted. Her fingers curled around the cool glass, and she hopped down triumphantly, muttering under her breath, “And you thought you had me beat, huh? Try again.”

She inspected the label of the small bottle, noting the faintly handwritten text in a language she couldn’t place. She opened it, inhaling the scent of peppermint and something warm and earthy beneath it. “Hmm, fancy and functional,” she mused, pouring a small amount of lotion into her hand and rubbing her palms together before smoothing it over her arms.

The cool tingle was instant, soothing against her skin as she worked the lotion into her elbows and shoulders. Her ebony skin gleamed under the warm glow of the lantern light, the rich tone brought to life by the moisture. She moved to her legs, the plush robe parting slightly as she massaged the lotion into her calves, marveling at how soft and refreshed her skin felt.

Her eyes caught sight of another bottle on the vanity, this one filled with a golden liquid that shimmered faintly in the light. She grabbed it, turning it over in her hands before popping it open. The subtle scent of jasmine and honey wafted out, and her lips curled into a small smile.

"Hair oil, huh? Alright, let’s see what you’ve got. If this messes up my hair, I’m fucking him up. I don’t care, 'cause someone’s gonna catch these hands, and it ain’t gonna be me," she muttered, shaking her head.

Talking to herself had always been her thing, much to the amusement of Sandy and Jack, neither passed up a chance to tease her about it. She’d always shot back with a sharp, “What’s insane is y’all keep talking crap and expecting me to not slap you. That’s the definition of insanity, idiot.”

Pouring a few drops of the shimmering oil into her palms, she rubbed her hands together, the warmth activating its delicate fragrance. She worked the oil through her curls, her fingers slipping effortlessly through the intricate coils as she massaged it in. Her hair drank it up greedily, the once-damp strands now glistening, springy, and beautifully defined.

She paused, catching her reflection in the mirror. The glow of her skin and the luster of her hair gave her an air of quiet radiance, a soft yet undeniable power in her gaze. For a moment, she allowed herself to just be.

"Damn," she said with a grin, fluffing her curls. "If this is what royalty feels like, I ain’t mad at it."

 Her fingers traced the edges of the robe where it draped off her shoulder, her gaze softening as she thought about how personal these items were. She didn’t know much about North’s private life, but letting her use his belongings and area felt... significant and extremely intimate.

Her reflection caught her eye again, and she sighed. “Shit. Guess I’m gonna have to thank him somehow, huh?” Her tone was equal parts begrudging and amused. “Maybe bake him something. Or find something to get him. Can’t be out here freeloading like this.”

She adjusted the sash around her waist, the robe falling back into place as she stepped away from the vanity. 

Padding softly to the door, the scent of peppermint and jasmine enveloped her, hair dripping with some water. Although she tried to appear composed, her fingers kept fiddling with the sash at her wai. She wasn’t nervous. Nope. Not at all.

Hand hovering just above the handle, she adjusted the robe one last time, ensuring it sat just right on her shoulder before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open.

The first thing Azaria noticed was the smell of fresh, rich, hot chocolate mingled with the faint scent. Her gaze swept over the room, catching the subtle changes. The mess they’d left behind was gone. His desk, once cluttered with papers and items knocked askew, was now pristine.

A thick, Christmas blanket had been laid out on a nearby chair, and beside it sat a small table with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, complete with a dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkling of cinnamon.

Her brows lifted slightly as her eyes shifted to him. North stood near his desk, his massive frame leaning casually against the edge. His arms were crossed, and though his face held its usual warm expression, there was a hint of something softer in his eyes as he watched her.

Azaria took a few steps into the room, her bare feet silent against the floor. “You clean up fast,” she remarked, tilting her head as she let her gaze linger on the space he’d created. It didn’t escape her notice that the chair and blanket were positioned much closer to him than before—not so close that she felt crowded, but enough to make her aware of his presence.

“Hmm,” North murmured, his voice low and calm. “Figured you’d appreciate a more comfortable spot.”

Azaria’s lips twitched into a half-smile as she crossed the room, her fingers trailing over the back of the chair. “Hot chocolate too?” she asked, her tone playful. “What’s this? An apology or a peace offering?”

“Neither,” he replied, his eyes glinting with amusement as he pushed off the desk. “Just something I thought you’d enjoy.”

She slid into the chair, the blanket soft beneath, the aroma from the mug comforting as she took a small sip. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the rich sweetness. When she opened them, North was still watching her, his gaze steady but not overbearing.

“You really went all out, huh?” she teased, gesturing vaguely at the tidy space, the blanket, and the hot chocolate. “Trying to butter me up or something?”

“Just making sure you’re comfortable,” he said simply with a nonchalant shrug, moving to sit back in his chair. His positioning put him closer to her than before, but still gave her enough space to feel at ease. “You’ve had a long day.”

Azaria leaned back, her fingers tracing the edge of the mug as she studied him. “Mmmhmm,” she replied, her tone skeptical but playful. “And this spot being so much closer to you than before is just a coincidence, yeah?”

His lips curled into the faintest of smirks, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “If I wanted you closer, I’d just say it.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she masked it with a sip of hot chocolate, the whipped cream leaving a faint smudge on her upper lip. She swiped it away with her thumb, her gaze meeting his again. 

“Well,” she said, her voice quieter but still holding its edge of sass, “I guess I’ll allow it. For now. Thank you.”

North chuckled, the sound deep and warm, resonating through the room. “Generous of you, kotenok.”

Azaria rolled her eyes, but her smile softened as she tucked the blanket tighter around her. Despite herself, the space he’d created felt... nice. Safe, even. It was clear he’d thought of her comfort in every detail. And that, more than anything, had her guard slipping just a little.

Azaria leaned back in the chair, the mug of hot chocolate cradled in her hands, its warmth seeping into her fingers. She watched North for a moment, the way his broad shoulders shifted slightly as he moved, his focus returning to a stack of papers and designs spread out on his desk.

“So,” she began, her tone casual but laced with curiosity, “whatcha workin’ on over there? Looks intense.”

North glanced up briefly, his lips quirking into a small smile before he returned to his papers. “Updates for the sleigh,” he said simply, his deep voice filling the room. “Thinking about adding a few features to help with defenses.”

“Defenses?” Azaria echoed, her brows arching in curiosity. “Against Pitch and the Nightmares?”

“Precisely.” North nodded, gesturing toward one of the sketches spread out on his desk. “The sleigh’s sturdy, but it’s not invincible. I’ve been considering mechanisms to throw off attacks—decoys, shields, and ways to protect the reindeer.”

Azaria tilted her head, her mind already buzzing with ideas. “You know, if you added sparklers or something that worked like decoy flares, you could throw off the Nightmares coming at you from the sides. I could hook you up with some flash fountains—those things light up like crazy. Or, if you want something quieter, some lightning flashes. No whistles, just bright as hell.”

North leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he mulled over her suggestion. “Not a bad idea,” he admitted after a moment. “Sparklers could work as both a distraction and a way to illuminate the Nightmares in darker skies.”

Azaria grinned, a touch of smugness creeping into her expression as she sipped her hot chocolate. “See? I knew you’d see the brilliance. If you ever need a brainstorming buddy, just holler. You need fireworks or something that goes boom, I’m your girl.”

North’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, his deep voice carrying a note of amusement. “Never doubted it for a second. I’ll keep you on speed dial for all things explosive.”

She laughed softly, her fingers toying with the rim of her mug. “I’m serious, though. Can’t let Pitch think he’s got the upper hand. I’ve got plenty of tricks up my sleeve.”

“I have no doubt,” North said, his gaze warm but steady. “Your spark isn’t just in your ideas.”

Azaria blinked at the compliment, caught off guard, but quickly recovered with a small, playful shrug. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

North chuckled, his amusement evident, and turned his attention back to the designs.

Azaria’s playful demeanor shifted slightly as concern crept into her expression. “Speaking of the sleigh… how are the reindeer? Are they all okay? I mean, they’re out there in the middle of all this too.”

“They’re fine,” North reassured her, his voice steady and calm. “They’re resilient and well-trained. But they were concerned about you.”

“Me?” Azaria blinked, caught off guard. “Why would they be worried about me?”

North’s lips twitched into a faint smile, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Three of them, in particular, seem very…attached to you. Dancer, Dasher, and Vixen. The first two wouldn’t stop pacing until they knew you were safe. And Vixen apparently keeps nipping Bob, her handler, so definitely need you to go down at some point before poor the poor Yeti has no more ponytail.. ”

Azaria’s cheeks warmed slightly at the thought of the majestic creatures fretting over her. “Well, I guess I’ve got fans,” she said with a small laugh, trying to mask the way her heart clenched at the thought of their concern. “No problem, I can do that but you sure they ain’t just after snacks or something?”

“They’re smarter than that,” North said, his voice softer now. “They sense things—people’s energy, their emotions. For some reason, they’re drawn to you.”

Azaria shifted in her seat, her fingers toying with the rim of her mug. “Guess I’ll have to thank them next time I see them,” she murmured, her voice quieter.

“They’d like that,” North replied, his gaze steady and warm. 

Azaria’s eyes drifted to North’s arms as she sipped her hot chocolate, the intricate tattoos catching the firelight.  All the designs wove together in bold shades of red, blue, and black, flowing across his muscled forearms. She tilted her head, her curiosity piqued.

“Can I ask you something, North?” Azaria asked, her voice casual, though the way she nibbled her lip betrayed her curiosity.

“Ask.” North glanced at her, his blue eyes steady as he waited for her to continue.

She gestured toward his arms. “What’s the story with the tattoos? I mean, I wouldn’t exactly peg Santa as the inked-up type, let alone full sleeves. And let’s be real, they don’t look strictly Christmas-themed.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips as he glanced down at his forearm, rolling his sleeve up with deliberate care. The intricate designs came into view, bold and striking. His fingers brushed over one of the patterns as he said, “They’re not Christmas-themed. Each one has meaning. They tell the story of where I’ve been, what I’ve done, and who I’ve become.”

Azaria leaned forward, setting her mug on the table. “Okay, now I’m interested,” she said, her eyes flicking over the patterns. “ You got a lot going on over there, in a good way though. Compasses, gypsy designs, Russian and Ukrainian symbols...”

North chuckled, the sound rich and deep, like the rumble of a distant storm. “You could say that.” He leaned back slightly, his massive frame commanding even in the casual setting. “I was a Cossack warrior once.”

Her brows shot up, clearly impressed. “Cossack? Like, the nomadic horsemen? Legendary fighters and all that?”

“Exactly,” he said with a nod, leaning back slightly. “The Cossacks live a life of duality. Fierce on the battlefield, but gentle at home. We were protectors, providers, and when necessary... enforcers. Strength came from that balance.” His eyes flicked back to her, sharp and assessing, yet softened by something warmer, something unspoken.

Azaria’s gaze shifted between his face and his tattoos, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, that tracks. You’ve got that whole energy going for you.” She pointed lazily at him, a small grin tugging at her lips. “Big protector vibes but also the kind of guy who makes hot chocolate and puts out blankets.”

North laughed, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. “A warrior needs no excuse to care for those he protects,” he said, his tone playful yet edged with something more. “Powerful warriors, yes. But family men, too. Gentle fathers, farmers, providers... We were many things. Complicated. Almost contradictory.”

She smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Contradictory, sure, but it works. Guess the tattoos make sense now. They’re not just ink; they’re your story.”

His smile deepened as he leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. “Exactly,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “A reminder of where I come from. Of what I stand for. And what I fight to protect.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, the intensity in his words sending a subtle heat through her. She cleared her throat, trying to shake the pull he had over her. “Well, I gotta say, it’s a pretty badass way to carry your legacy.”

North’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with something warm. “Coming from you, that means a lot.”

Azaria raised a brow, her lips twitching into a small, playful smile. “I’m just calling it like I see it.”

 “And what you see is only the surface. There is much more to me than what you’ve seen in so little time.” 

“Mmhmm,” Azaria began, leaning back in her chair with her mug cradled in her hands. “Listen, all I know is, if this is gonna be like those Russian nesting dolls you showed me and Jack, I’mma need to know now.” She raised a brow, her tone half-joking but teasing. “‘Cause I ain’t tryna have new versions of you just popping out the woodwork, all unannounced.”

North tilted his head, his thick brows furrowing as he studied her, clearly puzzled. “New versions of me?” he asked, his deep voice laced with genuine concern. “What you mean, kotenok? I am only one me, plus where is this woodwork they pop from?”

Azaria froze for a beat, her grin faltering as his response sank in. Then, a slow smirk crept across her face, and she set her mug down, leaning forward slightly. “North,” she said, her tone patient but amused, “it’s called sarcasm. I was joking.”

North leaned back in his chair, his large hands resting on the armrests as he considered her words. “Hmm,” he mused, his voice serious but tinged with warmth. “But I think maybe one me is already enough, no? Too much for most to handle.”

She laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. “You’re not wrong about that.”

North’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. “Good,” he clapped his hands. “Then we agree. Only one me. No popping up of dolls.”

Azaria shook her head, still chuckling. “You’re something else, you know that?”

He chuckled in return, the sound low and rich, resonating through the room. “I take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” she said, grinning as she picked up her mug again. “Even if you don’t quite get sarcasm, you somehow make it work.”

North smirked again, his blue eyes gleaming with playful warmth. “Then I will leave the jokes to you. I’m better at other things.”

Azaria raised an eyebrow, her grin turning wicked. “Oh, I’m sure you are.”

The look he gave her was brief but smoldering, sending a small shiver through her. She quickly sipped her hot chocolate, laughing softly to herself. “Yup. Definitely too much to handle.”

 She quickly sipped her hot chocolate, her laughter soft and self-conscious. “Yup. Definitely too much to handle,” she muttered, more to herself than him.

North’s chuckle was deep, and his gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer before returning to the sketches on his desk, a faint smile still playing on his lips.

Azaria let the warmth of the moment settle as she sipped her hot chocolate, her earlier teasing giving way to a comfortable silence. North leaned back in his chair, his steady gaze softening as their conversation flowed naturally. Over the next hour, they talked about everything from his wild stories as a Cossack warrior to her musings on how fireworks could be adapted for his sleigh defenses. She couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that they both shared a passion for tinkering and inventing, though she admitted with a grin that her expertise leaned more toward the explosive side.

Their conversation wove through art, history, and even parts of her memories of waking up —pieces she rarely spoke of. Her gaze turned contemplative as she shared what little she remembered, her voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

“I woke up in New York,” she began, her mug resting loosely in her hands. “It was 1762, or so I pieced together later. Jack mentioned something similar about waking up confused and alone, and it was the same for me. No clue who I was or what I was meant to be, just me and my hammer. It was wrapped around my waist when I woke up, and I found myself in a field out in Long Island.  I stumbled around for a few years, saw some pretty fucked up shit moving from state to state, trying to figure things out and bring what hope that I could.”

North listened intently, his expression thoughtful, the light in his blue eyes shadowed by understanding. Human history had left its scars on each of the Guardians, and North was no exception. He recalled the 1760s in the States, it had been a turbulent era marked by war, the horrors of slavery, and fierce resistance. The cruelty and inhumanity of that time lingered in his memory, a reminder of mankind's capacity for both darkness and resilience.

“It took me about three years to even begin mastering the hammer,” Azaria continued, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “And let me tell you, that was a chaotic three years. I mean, I was thrilled when I figured out what I could do, especially for the kids! But…” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “There may have been an incident where I blew up half of an abandoned building going a little overboard. By accident, of course! No injuries or casualties or nothin’ but yeah that was a humbling experience.”

North’s chuckle rumbled through the room, warm and rich. “A warrior’s journey is rarely without some… collateral damage,” he said, his smirk teasing but kind. “And mastering your abilities is no small feat, Azaria. That’s something to be proud of.”

Azaria glanced at him, her smile softening. “Yeah, I guess it is. It just feels like it took me forever to get here.”

“Forever is relative,” North replied, offering reassurance. “What matters is where you are now and the strength you’ve gained along the way.”

Azaria nodded slowly, letting his words settle. For the first time in a long while, she felt like sharing her story didn’t just lighten her, but added another layer to the connection they were building.

The room seemed to shrink, the distance between them narrowing as laughter and shared understanding bridged the gap. Azaria felt herself relax more than she expected, the warmth of his presence grounding her. She was still teasing him about his inability to grasp sarcasm when her thoughts shifted to a more practical concern. She straightened slightly, setting her now-empty mug on the table.

“By the way,” she started, her tone curious, “what happened to my gown?”

“I think it’s still in the bathroom,” he jokingly mused making her chuck a small throw pillow at him.

She sucked her teeth, “You know damn well what I mean, North.” Putting her hand on her cheek, she rolled her eyes to try and hide her blush. 

North raised a brow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It was cleaned,” he said simply. “Your meteor hammer, too. I sent it to the blacksmith to be inspected and prepared for the next fight. I assume you’d want it ready.”

Azaria blinked, both impressed and touched. “You had my gown washed and my hammer prepped?” She grinned, leaning forward with mock seriousness. “You sure know how to take care of a girl, North.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Your belongings are as important as you are. They should be treated accordingly.”

His words sent a flicker of heat through her, and she quickly looked away, busying herself with adjusting the blanket over her lap. “So, where is it now?” she asked, keeping her tone casual.

“In the lounge area,” North replied. “Everything is there, waiting for you.”

Azaria nodded, making a mental note to retrieve her things later. Her fingers absently toyed with the edge of the blanket as another thought surfaced. “You know,” she began, her tone shifting to something more thoughtful, “I should probably let Topper, Flicker, and the others know what’s going on. About the ceremony and everything.”

North tilted his head, his expression turning serious. “Yes, they will want to be informed. They are part of this as much as you are.”

Azaria’s fingers played with the edge of the blanket as her thoughts drifted to Topper, Flicker, and the others. A pang of guilt and sadness swirled in her chest. She could already picture their reactions, how they’d flicker and sputter with emotion when they learned about Sandy’s passing. But she knew it was only right to include them, no matter how hard it might be.

“They’re not going to take it well,” she murmured, more to herself than North. “But they deserve to be there. It’s only right.”

North’s expression softened, his steady gaze never leaving her. “They’ll understand, Azaria. Their bond with you is strong. Even if it hurts, they’ll be there for you.”

Azaria gave him a small smile, the warmth in his voice offering her a measure of comfort. She stood, smoothing the blanket as she set it aside. “Well, I should go handle that,” she said, straightening the robe and flicking her curls over one shoulder. “Thanks for the chat, North. It was lovely getting to know you more, we should do this again.”

Her lips curled into a sly grin as she stepped toward the door. “And maybe later, we can revisit that... initial conversation. Just for clarification, of course.”

North’s deep chuckle rumbled through the air, and before she could step away, he was on his feet, his massive frame closing the space between them in a heartbeat.

He reached out, his hand cupping her cheek gently but firmly, his thumb brushing her skin with surprising tenderness.

“It was truly a pleasure talking with you, Azaria,” North said, his voice low, his blue eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver through her. “I look forward to the next time we have the chance to relax together. Hopefully, under better circumstances.”

Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Izvinite, Azaria,” he murmured, the Russian slipping from his lips like a forbidden secret. “Ya solgal, chto syurprizov ne budet. No ya ne mogu pozvolit' tebe v strakhe ubezhat' ot menya. Yeshche net.” (I’m sorry Azaria. I lied that there would be no surprises. But I can’t let you run away from me in fear. Not yet.)

Azaria tilted her head, her curls spilling over her shoulder as she studied his face. Her confusion was clear, her mind working to untangle the meaning behind his words. She silently cursed herself for not picking up Russian, despite her frequent visits to his workshop.

“Were you expectin’ me to say something to that? ‘cause I don’t know no Russian, plus I already need to look up that word you keep calling me.”

North pulled back just enough, his smirk returning. But it didn’t quite reach his eyes, where something darker still lingered. “Go,” he said, his tone gentler now but no less firm. “Your friends need you. And don’t forget—your dress is in the lounge.”

Azaria narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious but unwilling to press further. “Alright…” she replied slowly, though her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer. The thought of kissing him flitted across her mind, unbidden. She quickly realized that with his height, she’d either need to ask him to bend down or climb onto something. Neither option was happening—not right now, at least.

Instead, with a boldness that surprised even her, she turned her head and kissed the inside of his palm. Her lips brushed the rough calluses, soft against his hardened skin. A deep, primal growl rumbled in his chest, his eyes darkening as she pulled away, a small smirk playing on her lips.

“See you soon, big guy,” she said, her voice light and teasing as she backed toward the door. With a lazy wave over her shoulder, she sauntered out, hips swaying just enough to leave a lasting impression.

North watched her go, his eyes glued to the doorway long after she disappeared. He exhaled sharply, wiping a hand down his face. 

“Temptress,” he muttered under his breath, the word almost a growl. His body tensed as he fought against the surge of heat she left in her wake, his arousal impossible to ignore.

With a resigned groan, he pushed himself to his feet and headed for the bathroom. “Cold shower,” he grumbled to himself, stripping as he walked. “Definitely need a cold shower.”

Stepping under the stream, the icy blast struck his skin, jolting his senses and drawing a sharp hiss from between his teeth. Droplets ran down his broad shoulders and over the planes of his chest, tracing the lines of his well-defined muscles. North’s body was a map of strength, carved by centuries of battles and tireless effort. Scars marked his skin, each one a story—some remembered fondly, others buried in the recesses of his mind.

North didn’t enjoy lying to Azaria. The weight of it settled heavily in his chest like an ancient chain dragging him deeper into the shadows of his own mind. She was no fool—intelligent and intuitive, with a sharpness that cut through his clumsy attempts at evasion. She had surely noticed his strange behavior by now, perhaps even begun piecing together fragments of the stories. The whispers. The lores. The darker truths clung to him like frost in the dead of winter.

And those stories were more than idle tales.

People often made assumptions when they met him, their eyes lighting up with the childlike wonder he encouraged. They saw the jolly figure that embodied the craftsman, the protector, the bringer of gifts. They couldn’t fathom that he could ever be linked to the darker tales.

The ones that spoke of icy wrath, monstrous creations, and the punishment of the wicked. It was easier to imagine two separate beings: one who embodied generosity and light, and another who stalked the cold nights, a shadow of winter’s cruelty.

But they were one and the same.

There had been a time when his presence was heavier, his silhouette broader, looming in the flickering light. A time when the faint jingle of bells wasn’t a promise of joy but a harbinger of judgment, each sound layered with the low, metallic rattle of chains. His steps had echoed through silent halls, a steady, deliberate weight that seemed to reverberate from the very earth.

Those who dared to look up claimed to see eyes that gleamed unnaturally, their golden hue almost alive, filled with something untamed. And the sound—there had been a sound, like breath huffing through the cold, heavy and rhythmic, a predator’s exhale as it closed in.

The memories were a haze now, obscured by the years and the light he had worked so hard to bring into the world. Yet, they lingered, woven into the edges of his being, surfacing in the quiet moments when his mind wandered too far.

To a time when his name inspired fear as much as joy when he carried the mantle of Krampus alongside Father Christmas. Those who had strayed too far—forgotten kindness, gratitude, or the spirit of the season—had faced the other side of him. He had been their reckoning, delivering judgment with the same hands that now carved toys and cradled innocence. The “gifts” of those days were no treasures; they were warnings, sharp and unforgiving, carried on the winds of a relentless winter.

She’d likely heard the stories, the lingering warnings woven into holiday lore. She was too perceptive not to notice the tension he carried, the shadows that clung to the edges of his otherwise warm demeanor.

He exhaled, breathing like a faint plume of frost despite the freezing temperature. Azaria was different from anyone he’d known, and that frightened him more than he cared to admit. She made him want to shed the darkness, to live entirely in the light he worked so hard to create. But he knew better. The past never stayed buried. The shadows were always there, waiting.

Still, he wondered if Azaria would feel the same when she learned the truth. Would she see the man he had become, or would she only hear the echo of heavy footsteps and the distant rattle of chains?

North pressed his palms against the cool tiles, his head bowing forward. The tension in his body refused to ease, the memory of her teasing smile and the sway of her hips burned into his mind. 

 North growled under his breath, the low, guttural sound vibrating through the enclosed bathroom. "Temptress," he muttered again, his voice rough with frustration and want. His jaw clenched, and his fingers flexed against the cold, wet tiles, trying to anchor himself. She had a way of slipping past the armor he had carefully built, awakening something primal, raw, and dangerously untamed within him.

The scent of her still lingered, wrapping around his senses like a siren’s song. It was more than just intoxicating—it was addictive. His lungs burned as he inhaled deeply, as though his body craved her essence with an urgency that bordered on desperation.

And her appearance… God, her appearance.

She wasn’t just beautiful; she was devastatingly so, her presence so potent that it made him ache. She was small and delicate, a contrast to his broad, towering frame, yet her very existence seemed to challenge the control he prided himself on. There was something disarming in her charm, chaos in her smile, and it left him raw, vulnerable in ways he hadn’t been for centuries.

North’s body betrayed him without mercy. His muscles tensed, his blood roared in his ears, and every nerve seemed alive with the hunger she’d sparked. He straightened, running a hand through his damp hair, water droplets flinging away in chaotic arcs. His blue eyes, darkened by unrelenting need, caught his reflection in the fogged mirror, the man staring back at him barely recognizable beneath the weight of his desire.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, feral and frustrated. His cock throbbed, a relentless reminder of her hold on him, the way she lingered in his mind, her scent, her voice, her very presence. The icy water streaming over his body had done little to cool the fire coursing through him, his restraint slipping further with every passing moment.

Unable to resist any longer, North slid his hand down his toned abdomen, wrapping it firmly around his length. The first stroke sent a shudder through him, and he pressed his forehead against the cool tile in an attempt to steady himself. The contrast between the icy water and the heat surging through him only heightened the sensation, and a soft groan escaped his lips despite his effort to hold it back.

His mind betrayed him, conjuring images of Azaria before him, her knees pressed to the ground, her wickedly tempting eyes locked on his as she leaned forward. He could almost feel the warmth of her breath, the teasing flick of her tongue as she licked the bead of precum from his tip. The thought sent a jolt through him, his hand tightening as he stroked himself with more urgency.

A guttural moan escaped him as he imagined her hands replacing his, soft and sure, stroking him with maddening precision. Her lips parted and breathing through her nose, taking him in slowly, her eyes never leaving his as she worked him with that perfect mix of innocence and sin. He could see how beautiful she was with his hand wrapped around her neck, slowly fucking her mouth while her cunt dripped in anticipation.

North’s breathing grew ragged, his hand moving faster as the fantasy consumed him. Her name fell from his lips in a low, breathless whisper, the sound swallowed by the rush of water as he thrust into her. The world outside faded away, leaving only the imagined warmth of her touch and the relentless ache she left in her wake.

His release came in a shattering wave, muffling his groans and snarls of pleasure into his forearm,  large body trembling as he braced himself against the tiles. The water washed away the evidence of his need, but the fire within him remained, smoldering, unquenched.

As his breathing slowed, North leaned back against the shower wall, running a hand over his face. He knew she had power over him, a pull he couldn’t resist, and the thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. She was chaos-wrapped in beauty, and he was a man already dangerously close to surrender.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Meanwhile, Azaria moved with quiet purpose through the dimly lit hallways of the fortress. Fully dressed once more in her gown, its shimmering fabric catching the light from the lanterns, she was a vision of elegance with an edge of danger. The hidden charm of her meteor hammer was concealed beneath the flowing fabric, the chains adorned with tiny stars that seemed to twinkle as they caught the lanterns' warm glow.

Her steps were soft but deliberate, the faint clinking of the charm a subtle reminder of the weapon's presence. She turned a corner and spotted Phil, the towering yeti, his massive frame hunched slightly as he fiddled with something near a shelf.

“Phil”? she called softly, her voice steady but tinged with urgency.

 The yeti straightened immediately, his pale blue eyes blinking at her in surprise. “Wagagh?” 

Azaria smiled faintly, tilting her head toward the hallway behind her. “I need to step outside. Can you guide me to the courtyard? I need to send a message to my friends—Topper and Flicker are probably waiting for word by now.”

Phil tilted his head in confusion for a moment before nodding, his large hand gesturing for her to follow, “Waha hagba.” 

The yeti’s lumbering steps echoed faintly as they moved through the stone corridors, the lantern light casting long shadows that flickered with their movement.

Azaria’s hand brushed against the concealed charm at her hip, the cool metal of the chain grounding her as they neared the courtyard. She couldn’t shake the tension coiled in her chest, a blend of anticipation and unease. Outside, her friends would be waiting, their sharp eyes and restless energy always ready to act.

The night air greeted her as Phil pushed open the heavy wooden doors leading to the courtyard. 

“Thanks, hun,” she smiled at him, patting him softly on the hand before stepping outside. Phil smiled, his mustache fluffing as he blushed. 

Stars sparkled overhead, their light mirrored by the small stars on her chains as she stepped onto the cool stone. She glanced around before raising her hand, signaling her intent to the shadows beyond.

Azaria stepped into the center of the courtyard, the night air cool against her skin as she rolled her shoulders and drew a deep breath. Her fingers brushed against the hidden meteor hammer at her side, the weight of it comforting as she prepared herself. She had always been the bearer of light, but tonight, her light would carry a far heavier message.

Azaria’s breath hung in the cool night air, her body trembling with the weight of the message she had sent. Above her, the stars seemed to shift, their soft twinkle turning restless, as though responding to her grief. Then, all at once, the stars began to fall.

They streaked across the sky like shooting comets, brilliant trails of blue, purple, and white carving mournful arcs through the darkness. 

But these weren’t mere stars—they were the Emberlings, Azaria’s helpers. Every single one of their lights was dimmed and their usual joy was replaced with sorrow.

Their descent was a cascade of sobbing flares, each one sputtering unevenly as if choking on grief. The sound of their arrival wasn’t celebratory crackles but soft, mournful cries, as though the light itself wept. Some spiraled gently, their glow flickering like dying embers, while others shot downward in jagged, chaotic paths, their sputters crackling faintly in the quiet courtyard.

When they landed, they gathered around Azaria in a swirling, disjointed dance, their glow casting an ethereal haze over the stone courtyard. Their movements were hesitant, as though unsure of themselves, their colors bleeding into one another in a dim kaleidoscope of sadness.

Topper appeared first, his small form gliding softly to a stop beside her, his usual mischievous sparkle dulled to a somber blue. His light pulsed faintly as if struggling to hold steady, and he gazed up at Azaria with wide, sorrowful eyes.

Flicker followed, her descent less graceful, her light stuttering as she landed. Her glow was streaked with pale white, resembling tears spilling from her radiant form. She trembled as she drew close, her body language filled with hesitant sadness.

More firecrackers descended their swirling, falling forms creating a mournful display of dimmed light. Some of the smaller ones reached out to Azaria as they passed, their tiny sparks flickering with need. Azaria knelt, her heart aching as she cradled a few of them in her arms. She offered gentle nuzzles of comfort, her touch a balm to their sorrow.

“It’s okay,” she whispered softly, her voice steady despite the emotions tightening her throat. “I’ve got y’all. It’s gonna’ be ok.”

A few climbed onto her shoulders, nestling against her for warmth and reassurance, their dim glow brightening ever so slightly. Azaria stroked one absently, her other hand brushing against the meteor hammer’s charm at her side.

“Topper, Flicker,” she said, her tone soft but commanding. “Guide them inside. They’ll need rest and warmth.”

Topper nodded sharply, his faint light pulsing with resolve, and began herding the firecrackers toward the fortress’s entrance. Flicker flitted beside him, her movements steady as she joined in the effort, offering quiet encouragement to those who hesitated.

Azaria stayed kneeling as the firecrackers passed, reaching out to comfort those who sought her touch. Some nuzzled against her hand, their sparks sputtering softly before steadying. Others climbed into her arms for a brief moment before continuing on, their trust in her an unspoken bond.

Inside the fortress, the gathering helpers created a quiet commotion. Toothiana watched from the window, her wings trembling as tears glistened in her wide eyes. “They’re... they’re crying,” she whispered, the sight of the usually cheerful firecrackers in such a state striking her to the core.

Bunny’s ears drooped as he leaned against the windowsill, his usual sharpness replaced with quiet reverence, arm subtly wrapping around Jack’s waist.  

Jack Frost tightened his grip on his staff, his icy blue eyes narrowed as he took in the scene below. The sight of the firecrackers huddling together, their light so faint it seemed on the verge of extinguishing, sent a chill through him deeper than any winter storm.

“Never seen them like this,” he muttered, his voice low. “This isn’t just mourning—it’s heartbreak.”

Even the Yetis stood silently, their massive frames casting long shadows as they exchanged uneasy glances. Their gruffness softened as they watched Azaria tend to the helpers, her every movement filled with quiet strength and compassion.

She rose carefully, the last of the firecrackers nestled against her shoulder. She turned toward the fortress, her gaze firm despite the weight of the moment. She had sent the message, and the firecrackers had answered her call. Now, they would face whatever came next—together.

Azaria stepped into the fortress, her arms cradling one of the Emberlings still trembling softly in her grasp. The others marched in around her, their small, flickering lights dim but steadying as they found warmth and safety within the stone walls.

The elves had gathered near the entrance, their usual chaotic energy subdued, though not entirely gone. As the Emberlings shuffled past, the elves stepped forward, some offering clumsy pats on their glowing heads or holding out small, hastily arranged flowers plucked from who-knows-where.

One particularly brave elf leaned down to nuzzle an Emberling only to yelp as a zap of static sparked from the tiny firecracker’s light. The Emberling startled, flickering anxiously, but the elf just shook it off, rubbing its head with exaggerated vigor and giving the Emberling a goofy thumbs-up. The display earned a faint sputtering crackle that might have been the Emberling’s attempt at laughter.

Another elf, determined not to be outdone, offered a small carved figure to an Emberling, only to trip over its own feet and tumble into a cluster of them. Sparks flew as the Emberlings scattered in a flurry of startled cries, but the elf scrambled up with wide, apologetic eyes, arms spread wide in an exaggerated “all is fine” gesture.

Despite their missteps, the elves’ efforts didn’t go unnoticed. The Emberlings, though subdued, seemed comforted by the clumsy attempts, their flickering lights growing slightly steadier as they accepted the gestures. 

North approached her quietly, his imposing frame casting a shadow over the dimly lit hallway. He stopped a few steps away, his blue eyes soft with a mix of concern and gratitude as he watched her interact with the Emberlings.

“You did well,” he said, his deep voice rumbling with quiet reassurance. North stepped closer, his massive hand hesitating for a moment before resting gently on her shoulder. The touch was brief but grounding. “We’ll get through this,” he said, his voice firm with conviction, though a shadow of grief lingered beneath his tone. “Sandy would want us to carry on. To protect what he stood for.”

She nodded, her fingers curling protectively around the Emberling she held. “Go check on Tooth,” she murmured, her voice softer now. “She needs you more than I do right now.”

North’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, his hand giving a reassuring squeeze before he stepped away. “I’ll make sure everything’s ready,” he said, glancing toward the chamber. “And Azaria... thank you.”

She smiled faintly with a nod, her fingers gently stroking the Emberling nestled against her shoulder. “They mean well,” she murmured to the tiny creature who was warily eyeing the elves, letting out a soft crackle in response, its light pulsing faintly.

Bunny’s low voice broke through the hum of activity. “You’ve got a knack for wrangling them,” he said, stepping closer, his ears twitching in a rare moment of softness. “Let me help. We can get them settled somewhere safe.”

Azaria glanced at him, her expression softening as she nodded. “Thank you, Bunny. I appreciate it.”

He gave a small nod, his usual sharpness tempered. “Least I can do, love.”

Behind him, Jack leaned casually on his staff, his blue eyes watching the scene with an air of quiet observation. Azaria turned to him, raising a brow with a flicker of her usual wit.

“Guess you’ve got a keeper,” she teased lightly, tilting her head toward Bunny. “Nice to know your boyfriend’s got a heart under all that fur.”

Jack rolled his eyes with an exaggerated groan, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in the ghost of a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Let me know when you’re done playing matchmaker, and I’ll freeze you a nice ice sculpture to celebrate.”

Azaria chuckled softly, the sound a faint reprieve from the heaviness in the room. She adjusted the Emberling on her shoulder, her gaze shifting toward the chamber beyond where the somber ceremony had begun.

Inside, the atmosphere was heavy with grief and reverence. Burning candles lined the perimeter of Sandy’s stone emblem, their gentle flames dancing in a solemn rhythm. Tooth stood near the center, setting down a candle with delicate care before joining North and Bunny at the emblem’s side.

The three stood shoulder to shoulder, their hands clasped tightly in quiet solidarity. Tooth’s wings trembled faintly, her head bowed as North’s large hand gave hers a reassuring squeeze. Bunny’s ears drooped, his usual bravado replaced with a rare vulnerability as he held their shared grief with quiet strength.

The soft tolling of bells echoed throughout the chamber, a somber dirge carried out by the elves and a single yeti. The bells rang with a melancholic cadence, their sound reverberating through the stone walls, a tribute to the fallen Guardian of Dreams.

Azaria stood at the edge of the gathering, her breath steadying as she took in the scene before her. The flickering candles, the somber faces, and the weight of their shared grief pressed down on her, but beneath that heaviness was something deeper—something alive.

She brushed her hand over the charm at her side, the cool metal grounding her as her thoughts turned inward. You are more than this sorrow, she reminded herself. You are the spark. The light in the darkest of nights. The embodiment of new beginnings.

Her gaze flicked to the Emberlings clustered around her, their dim lights trembling with the same sadness that filled the room. They needed her. They all do, she thought, her resolve hardening. Sandy had believed in her, and had seen the potential for hope and joy she could bring to the world. He had given her so much—his trust, his guidance, his belief in her ability to carry his legacy forward.

Azaria straightened, her hand curling into a fist at her side. I will honor you, Sandy, she vowed silently. I will honor everything you’ve done for me, for them. I’ll bring back hope—not just for the children but for all of us. I’ll rekindle their fire, remind them what we’re fighting for. I’ll make sure we win, and that your light will never fade.

She stepped forward, her eyes bright with purpose. Raising her hand, she called on her magic, feeling it hum to life within her. She didn’t want noise, didn’t want to disrupt the solemnity of the moment. Instead, she wove her magic into something quiet, something gentle.

A slow flick of her wrist made a stream of shimmering light begin to flow from her fingertips, spreading out like a wave across the room. The light was silent, but it sparkled like stardust, filling the air with a soft, ethereal glow.

The magic reached each of them in turn, wrapping around them like a warm embrace. For some, it offered the final push they needed to cry, to release the weight of their grief. Silent tears fell as the light seemed to pull their pain to the surface, freeing them from the tight grip of sorrow.

For others, the magic sparked something deeper—a renewal of strength, a rekindling of the fire that had been dimmed by loss. Bunny’s ears lifted slightly, a flicker of determination returning to his eyes. Jack straightened, his grip on his staff tightening as the light danced around him, a reminder of what they still had to fight for.

Toothiana’s wings fluttered faintly as the light reached her, a quiet sob escaping her lips before she steadied herself, her resolve blooming anew. Even the Emberlings seemed to glow brighter, their flickering sparks steadying as they absorbed the warmth and hope Azaria offered.

North’s deep blue eyes glistened as the magic washed over him, his broad shoulders straightening as if a weight had been lifted. He glanced at Azaria, his expression a mix of gratitude, astonishment, and quiet pride.

The room itself seemed to transform, the light illuminating every shadow, every corner until it felt less like a place of mourning and more like a beacon of unity. Azaria’s magic filled the space with a sense of purpose, of renewal.

She lowered her hand, the last of the light fading into the air like the final embers of a fire. The room was silent, but it was no longer heavy. Instead, it hummed with a quiet strength, a shared determination to carry on, to honor Sandy by fighting for what he had always stood for.

Azaria stepped back, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths. This is what I am, she thought. The spark that lights the way. The hope that brings us back to life.

At that moment, surrounded by the flickering light of candles and the soft, lingering glow of her magic, the Guardians and their allies stood united—not just in their grief but in their shared determination to fight for the light Sandy had left behind.

Chapter Text

Everyone dispersed after the ceremony with most of the Yetis returning to their work in the workshop. Tooth, Baby Tooth, and Bunny were off in a corner near the Globe, talking to a few Yetis while Jack wandered off into the hallway.

Needing to inform the Emberlings of the situation, Azaria gathered the Emberlings into the room next door. There was no way she could allow them to remain separated at this time; after seeing what happened to the Baby Teeth at the Palace, Azaria couldn’t imagine the same for her Emberlings. She hated to admit it, but she didn’t trust her workplace to be a safe enough hiding place for them. Azaria had no idea if Pitch knew the location of her home, and she wasn’t willing to take the risk of putting them all in the most obvious place to look for them.

Azaria stood in the glow of the great hall, her gaze steady as she surveyed the Emberlings. Tiny sparks of flame flickered within their translucent forms, their eyes glowing embers of curiosity and mischief. They huddled together, watching her expectantly, their fiery little bodies pulsing in time with their emotions. Some wavered like candle flames in a draft, uncertain, while others flared with restless energy.

“You’ll stay here,” she instructed, her voice firm but gentle. “At least for now.”

A few crackled in protest, their forms briefly flaring. She lifted a hand, palm outward, soothing the air around them. “I know you want to help, but I can’t risk you falling into Pitch’s hands. He would twist your light into something dark, and I will not allow that.”

The Emberlings shifted at that, their fires dimming slightly with unease. She knelt before them, lowering herself to their level, and her voice softened. “This isn’t a punishment. This is protection. And trust me, North’s workshop isn’t such a terrible place to wait.” A playful smirk tugged at her lips. “There’s plenty to do. Work with the elves. Help them make toys.”

A ripple of excitement passed through the small gathering. The idea of ‘making toys’ intrigued them.

From the other side of the hall, North let out a deep, booming laugh. “And now my elves have tiny fire spirits to keep them in line! This I must see.”

The elves, who had been eavesdropping from the safety of the doorway, immediately turned to flee, but not before one tripped over his own feet, causing a chain reaction that sent the entire group tumbling into a pile of jingling bells and flailing limbs.

The Emberlings, amused, flickered and snapped with mirth, their fiery bodies pulsing in time with their laughter. North now stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he watched the Elves try to play off their embarrassing act. 

Azaria sighed, though a smile ghosted her lips as she turned back to the Emberlings in front of her. “Just… try not to burn anything down. Work with them, not against them.”

The Emberlings all nodded—or, at least, gave a series of small, excited bursts of flame that Azaria chose to interpret as agreement. She could only hope this wouldn’t turn into complete disaster.

North grinned, stepping up beside her. One of the elves clung to the fabric of his pants, swinging lightly with each of North’s strides, his hat jingling wildly. "You trust them not to burn my workshop to the ground?"

Azaria arched a brow, a knowing glint in her eye. "Not in the slightest. But I trust them to make it interesting."

Another crash echoed from the hall as an elf shrieked, chased by an Emberling who had clearly mistaken ‘making toys’ for ‘melting random objects.’

Azaria pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is going to be a long day.”

North wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze, grinning mischievously. "Look on the bright side, at least they aren’t trying to set me on fire. Yet."

Azaria rolled her eyes and pushed his arm off. "Give them time."

North held up his hands in mock innocence. "Ha, ha nice joke. It was a joke, yes? Azaria?"

"I wonder what Tooth is up to," she responded, trying to hide the amusement in her voice. 

A few of the Emberlings crept toward North with mischievous intent, their flames flickering with playful menace. He chuckled nervously, taking a cautious step back. "Uh-oh... now, let’s not get any ideas—" His eyes widened as one Emberling sparked a little too close. "Azaria!" he yelped, spinning on his heel and jogging after her. 

North jogged into the hallway and spotted Jack standing near a window, his back to the room. A thin layer of frost spread across the glass as Jack traced a familiar symbol with his fingertip—the shape of Sandy’s emblem.

North slowed his pace, watching the younger Guardian in silence before stepping closer. “Are you alright?”

Jack remained still, his gaze fixed on the image before him.

“I just… I wish I could’ve done something,” he murmured.

North’s expression softened. “Done something? Jack, you stood up to Pitch. You saved us.”

Jack swallowed hard. “But Sandy wo—”

North placed a firm but reassuring hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Would be proud of what you did.”

Jack pulled back his hoodie and stood up a little straighter.

North smiled. “I don’t know who you were in your past life, but in this life, you are a Guardian.”

Jack hesitated. “But how can I know who I am until I find out who I was?”

North patted his belly with a hearty chuckle. “You will. I feel it… in my belly.”

Jack blinked, then let out a small, reluctant laugh. North nudged him forward with a grin, guiding him toward the Globe Room.

As they entered, their expressions grew grim. The Globe was dimming rapidly, lights blinking out one by one at an alarming rate.

Tooth hovered nearby, her gaze fixed on the Globe with deep concern. “Look how fast they’re going out…” she whispered.

Without thinking, her hand reached for Azaria’s. Azaria squeezed it in silent reassurance, anchoring them both in the moment.

“It’s fear. He’s tipped the balance,” Jack realized, face dropping in realization. He drifted up to the globe, looking at the lights going out, then back at the Guardians and Azaria. 

“Hey, buck up ya sad- sacks. Come on! We can still turn this around!” Bunny twirled his boomerangs in determination. “Easter is tomorrow and I need your help. I say we pull out all the stops and we get those little lights flickering again!” 

“Then we must go to the Warren,” North states with a clap.. 

A massive wooden door swings open and North leads Jack, Azaria, and the Guardians through the doorway, into an elevator, and through his factory.

As they walked, Bunny nudged Azaria with his elbow. "You know, I could use a hand painting all those eggs. Maybe you could use your fancy magic to make them sparkle."

Azaria smirked. "Oh sure, because nothing says Easter like setting them on fire. You do remember I deal with flames, right?"

Bunny scoffed. "Details. I'm sure you can manage a little finesse. Or is that too much for ya?"

Azaria shot him a playful glare. "I have plenty of finesse, Pooka. But I don’t think your eggs would survive it."

Jack chuckled, watching the exchange. "You two bicker like an old married couple."

Bunny’s ears twitched. "Oi, don’t lump me in with her . I have standards."

Azaria gasped, hand to her chest in mock offense. "Excuse you? I am the standard."

North let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "Enough, enough. Save the bickering for after we save the world, yes?"

He sighed, rubbing his temple and muttering something in Russian before turning to the group. "Bunny is right." He gave the Pooka a begrudging nod. "As much as it pains me to say, old friend, this time, Easter is more important than Christmas."

“Ha!” Bunny hooted, ears perked up. “Did everyone hear that?!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” North grumbled, trying to wave him off, but Bunny was already bouncing around smugly.

“Nope, they all heard it. You guys heard that, yeah? Easter is more important than Christmas. ”

“I said, this time , there is big difference!” North pointed a finger at him in slight annoyance.

“Still said it,” Bunny murmured with a smirk.

Azaria leaned over to one of the Yetis. She made a mental note to try and learn most of their names while they were there for the mission. "This is the best thing I've seen all day."

North rolled his eyes. "Enough! We must go. Everyone, to the sleigh!"

“Ohhh no, mate. My Warren, my rules,” Bunny chuckled before directing their attention downward. “Buckle up.”

He tapped his foot, and the ground opened up beneath them.

“Bunny, no!” Azaria yelled out. “Shostakovich!” North bellowed as they all tumbled into the portal.

🎇🎇🎇

Jack, Bunny, and Tooth landed gracefully in the Warren’s antechamber, their feet touching down with practiced ease. Bunny dusted himself off and looked around, satisfied. "See? Smooth landin’."

A beat later, a loud thud followed by a cascade of groans interrupted the moment. North, Azaria, and the Yetis crashed into the ground in an unceremonious heap. Unfortunately for North, Azaria had landed right on top of him, her dress flaring around her in a Marilyn Monroe-style billow.

For a second, no one moved.

Bunny blinked. Then blinked again. He suddenly seemed very interested in the ceiling, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh..."

Jack snorted. "That’s one way to make an entrance."

Azaria groaned, propping herself up on North’s chest, only for her dress to shift again, catching Bunny’s wide-eyed gaze. His face twitched as if he was resisting every instinct to comment.

North cleared his throat beneath her, jaw clenched, his breath slow and deliberate. "I am comfortable, but this is... unusual." His voice was calm, yet a tension lingered beneath, like a blade pressed against its sheath, held back with purpose. His fingers twitched slightly before he forced them to still, his control absolute, but just barely.

Azaria huffed, rolling off of him as she adjusted her skirt. She shot Bunny a glare when she caught his sheepish expression. "Something funny, furball?"

Bunny coughed into his paw, shaking his head. "Nope. Nothin’ at all."

Tooth hovered beside them, giggling behind her hand. "Well, maybe this is a good time to fix that."

Azaria exhaled, snapping her fingers. The fiery shimmer of her magic pulsed around her, and within seconds, her dress morphed into a more practical outfit—sleek, black pants with golden embroidery, paired with a fitted top and boots. She stretched out her arms, rolling her shoulders. "Better. Now, let’s focus on the real issue."

Bunny exhaled dramatically. "Yeah, real shame. That dress was nice."

Azaria cocked her hip and shot him a look. "You wanna get set on fire?"

Jack grinned. "Okay, now this is the best thing I’ve seen all day."

North clapped his hands together, a little harder than necessary, cutting through the moment. "Enough! We focus. We have work to do." For a fleeting moment, a shadow crossed his eyes, something raw and unspoken threatening to surface. He exhaled sharply, locking it away beneath a mask of resolve before straightening his stance and reclaiming control.

Bunny smirked, stretching his arms. "Welcome to the Warren."

Before anyone could respond, his ears twitched, nose sniffing the air. His entire demeanor shifted in an instant, muscles tensing. "Something’s up."

A faint scream echoed from deep within one of the tunnels, followed by the frantic scuttling of tiny eggs as they darted out of the darkness, their tiny feet tapping against the floor in a frenzy.

Bunny’s grip tightened around his boomerang. North reached for his sword, Jack steadied his staff, and the distant sound of booming footsteps and rustling foliage grew louder. A wail of pure terror rang out, reverberating through the tunnels.

Azaria narrowed her eyes, shifting into a defensive stance. "Bunny, you got some kind of guard… rabbit or something you need to tell us about?"

Bunny’s ears flattened against his head. His eyes widened. "Ahhhh!"

Without another word, he bolted toward the tunnel, weapons drawn. North, Jack, Azaria, the Yetis, and even a handful of sentinel eggs followed, their voices rising in fierce battle cries as they charged forward only to come skidding to an abrupt halt as a small figure burst out of the shadows.

“Sophie?”

They all froze, weapons still half-raised, momentum abruptly extinguished. An awkward silence settled over them as they exchanged glances, processing what had just happened.

Sophie giggled, utterly unbothered, and took off running toward one of the elves, arms outstretched. "Elf! Elf! Elf!"

Bunny’s eyes widened in sheer exasperation. He flailed his arms wildly, his fur bristling. "What is SHE doing HERE ?!"

North patted his coat pockets, a sheepish expression creeping onto his face before he pulled out a glimmering object. "Ah… oops." He cleared his throat. "Snow globe."

“I know you lyin,” Azaria looked at North in disbelief, shaking her head. 

Bunny groaned, ears drooping dramatically. "Crikey! Somebody do something!"

Jack smirked, crossing his arms. "Don't look at me, mate. I'm invisible, remember?"

Azaria smacked Bunny’s arm, making the Pookah stop to rub at the sore spot. "Boy, if you don’t stop acting like you just saw a ghost! That little girl got you more shook than Pitch ever did." She folded her arms, raising a brow. "You fight nightmares for a livin’, but one tiny human got you floppin’ like a fish. Make it make sense!"

Sophie giggled as she tugged the elf along by the bell atop its uniform, the tiny creature flailing in protest.

"Oh no, no, no, honey. Uh-uh, you gotta play gently," Azaria said, stepping in with a raised brow. She gently pried the elf from Sophie’s grasp, cradling the tiny creature in her hands as she inspected it for any damage. "You good, little guy?" she murmured, smoothing out its ruffled uniform. The elf squeaked in response, adjusting its hat with shaky dignity. North observed quietly, his expression unreadable save for the slight twitch at the corner of his lips.

Tooth waved a hand dismissively, her confidence unwavering. "Don’t worry, Bunny. I bet she’s a fairy fan."

She flitted up to Sophie with a warm smile. "It’s okay, little one."

Sophie’s eyes widened in wonder. "Pretty!"

Tooth practically melted on the spot. "Awww! You know what? I got something for you!" She rummaged around before pulling something out with excitement. "Look at all these pretty teeth! With little bits of blood and gum still on them!"

Sophie took one look and let out a horrified shriek, bolting in the opposite direction.

Jack doubled over laughing. "Blood and gums? When was the last time you guys actually hung out with kids?"

 Sophie darted around the Warren, eagerly exploring every nook and cranny. She peeked her head into a small tunnel, her voice echoing as she called out, "Peek-a-boo!"

North sighed, crossing his arms. "We are very busy bringing joy to children! We don’t have time..." He hesitated, then muttered under his breath, embarrassed, "...for children."

Azaria, who had been watching with amusement, arched a brow before flicking her wrist. A trail of golden sparks twirled through the air, dancing playfully before swirling around Sophie. "Mmmhmm. And who exactly do you think all this is for? Just making decorative eggs for the fun of it?"

Jack snickered, forming a delicate snowflake between his fingers and sending it drifting toward Sophie. "Yeah, North. Thought kids were kinda your thing."

Sophie’s eyes sparkled as she reached for the floating flurry, giggling in delight. "Weeee!"

A tiny snowflake drifted lazily through the air before settling on Bunny’s nose. He went cross-eyed for a moment, twitching as if preparing to shake it off, but then, just as quickly, his ears perked back up. The tension in his shoulders eased, his scowl melting into something begrudgingly amused. Jack’s magic had done its trick.

But Azaria wasn’t done yet.

She stepped up beside North, nudging him lightly with her elbow. His broad frame barely shifted, but she could feel the heat radiating off him, steady and grounding, like standing beside a hearth in the dead of winter.

"Dangerous and warm," she thought, a mix of amusement and something deeper stirring in her chest.

"Next time, just say you’re allergic to adorable things and call it a day. Would save you all that huffing and puffing."

North turned his head slightly, the sharp lines of his battle-worn face softening. Amusement flickered in his deep-set eyes, a glimmer of something playful just beneath the surface.

"If I were allergic to adorable things, I’d hardly be standing near you, hmm?"

Azaria blinked.

For a beat, all she could do was stare at him, caught completely off guard. That was terrible. And yet, the way he said it—low and self-assured, laced with that effortless charm—made heat creep up the back of her neck.

Then she laughed, shaking her head. "That was awful," she said between chuckles, her voice lighter than it had been in days.

North’s smile widened, not in his usual boastful way, but something softer. It reached his eyes, making her breath hitch just a little. 

"Yet it made you laugh. I call that victory."

Azaria bit her lip, feeling something unfamiliar bloom in her chest. He always did this. Found a way to pull her back from the edge, whether with a ridiculous joke or his steady presence that made everything seem a little less overwhelming. She had known him for such a short time, yet it felt like he had always been there, like the weight of the world was a little easier to bear when he was beside her.

And the Guardians.

Despite the chaos, despite the battles and nightmares, she had found something here, something she hadn’t even realized she was missing. The warmth of found family. The laughter, the bickering, the unspoken understanding that no matter what, they would fight for each other.

She hadn’t expected to feel safe among them. But she did.

And with North, it was more than that.

Shaking off the thought before it could settle too deep, she nudged him again, this time with a smirk. "Victory, huh? You sure that wasn’t just luck?"

North leaned in ever so slightly, his presence like a quiet storm. Contained, but never tamed. "You tell me, солнышко ."

Azaria’s stomach did a ridiculous little flip.

Yep. She was in trouble.

Her mind could stay sharp in the middle of an enclosed room filled with exploding fireworks. She could dodge, weave, and laugh in the face of absolute chaos, thriving in the thrill of unpredictability. But this?

Standing next to him, feeling the weight of his attention settle on her, sent her pulse into a frantic rhythm. It made the self-proclaimed queen of chaos crumble into a blushing puddle.

And from the way North’s smirk deepened, the gleam in his eyes entirely too knowing, he had definitely noticed.

🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇

A flower bloomed in the Warren, petals unfolding to reveal a tiny egg standing upright on wobbly legs. Sophie and Bunny watched in awe, her eyes wide with amazement and Bunny beaming with pride.

"You wanna paint some eggs? Yeah?" Bunny asked, his voice filled with warmth.

Sophie clapped her hands. "Okay!"

Bunny grinned. "Come on then!"

As they moved further into the Warren, the scene unfolded before them. A massive stone spire, draped in moss, stood tall as thousands of unpainted eggs streamed down its side like a waterfall, spilling into a lush green meadow below.

North and Jack stood in the middle of it all, their jaws slack as they watched the tidal wave of eggs rushing toward them.

North let out an exasperated sigh. "Rimsky Korsakov! That’s a lot of eggs."

Jack leaned slightly toward him. "Uh… how much time do we have?"

Sophie squealed with joy, clinging to Bunny’s back as he bounded down a wide path, leading a vibrant parade of eggs. As he passed, flowers burst into bloom on either side, their petals releasing colorful bursts that splashed onto the passing eggs, painting them in bright hues.

"Alright troops, it's time to push back. That means eggs! Everywhere!" Bunny’s voice rang out with enthusiasm.

North stood at the sorting stones, watching the eggs tumble forward in an orderly procession. "Single file!" he called, waving as Sophie, now lying on her back, giggled while being carried along by the sea of painted eggs.

"Heaps of you in every high-rise, farmhouse, and trailer park!" Bunny continued, his voice carrying over the vibrant chaos.

Azaria stood near a spiraling vine chute, dipping a brush into a pot of shimmering gold paint. She worked quickly, sweeping elegant patterns across a set of eggs before handing them off to the yetis for finishing touches. “Gotta make sure these babies shine,” she murmured, her fingers deftly spinning an egg in her palm as she painted intricate swirls along its shell.

Nearby, Baby Tooth zipped through the air, guiding an elf toward the edge of a cliff. The elf hesitated before giving a final shove to a brightly painted egg, sending it tumbling into a multicolored stream below. The little creature jumped with excitement until a flood of eggs barreled toward him, knocking him clean off the edge.

"Oh, there will be bathtubs filled with my beautiful googies!" Bunny declared as the eggs waded through the water, emerging with mesmerizing secondary colors and delicate patterns.

One unlucky egg veered off course, caught in a swirling whirlpool. A hand plunged into the water, fishing it out with practiced ease. North held up the tiny egg, tilting his head as he examined the spiral pattern now etched into its shell. The egg's tiny legs kicked madly in protest.

"Okay, that's a little strange," North muttered.

"Naw, mate," Bunny replied, surrounded by a collection of adorably patterned eggs. "That's adorable."

Nearby, Azaria knelt beside a cluster of yetis, her hands deftly working across the eggs they passed her way. Using a fine brush, she traced elegant golden swirls onto the delicate shells, occasionally glancing up to watch the eggs roll along their path. "Keep ‘em coming," she called, grinning as yet another batch tumbled into her waiting hands. "These little guys deserve to look their best."

As Sophie led a parade of eggs down a mossy pathway, Bunny hopped onto a nearby rock, addressing the lively march with an air of command. "There will be springtime! On every continent! And I'm bringing hope with me!"

The yetis continued their work, sprinkling the eggs with glitter as they spiraled down twisting vine chutes. Azaria arched a brow as a particularly ambitious elf emerged from the vines, completely striped with paint. It blinked in confusion before waddling off, trailing streaks of color in its wake.

A yeti beside Azaria groaned, tossing a mound of freshly painted red eggs into a pile. Bunny hopped into frame just in time to spot them. "Too Christmas-y, mate. Paint 'em blue."

The yeti let out an exaggerated sigh before tossing the eggs back into rotation. Azaria stepped in, giving the yeti a reassuring pat on the arm. 

"Come on now, big guy. You're doing great big fella," she said with an encouraging grin. "Just think, somewhere out there, a kid's gonna love these."

From a few paces away, North observed the interaction, his chest swelling with something warm—pride, admiration, something else he didn't want to name. The way she moved so easily among the elves and yetis, her laughter slipping through the air like the faint jingle of bells, stirred something in him. 

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, but his mind betrayed him. A flicker of memory of how her  body pressed against his in the dim glow of his office, the ghost of her breath against his skin. He exhaled sharply, willing his breath to steady, but the shadows curling in his mind refused to be tamed. 

Not here. Not now. 

And yet, the scent of her lingered, the memory of her warmth pressed against him creeping in like an unwelcome ghost. He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking under the strain. She was light, warm, someone untouchable to him. He nearly scoffed at the thought, knowing damn well how much of a lie that it was. 

 Because the way she moved, the way she felt against him, made something inside him unravel in a way that felt sinfully right, a hunger he had long buried scraping against his ribs. He forced himself to look away, to focus on the task at hand, but his thoughts had already slipped too far into the dark.

He had scrubbed the space clean after their moment in the library, moving with a haste that bordered on desperation. He had wanted her to remain comfortable, to erase any trace of what had transpired between them—worried that he had crossed a line, that she would storm out and refuse to look at him again. And yet, he had hoped she would stay. When she had, he had noticed the small things—the way she observed her surroundings, the subtle way her fingers traced the furniture as if sensing the shift in the space. She had even noticed that he had pulled the chair closer, a feeble attempt to keep her near, to hold onto something intangible. He wanted to bask in her light, even as it scorched him, and the fact that he didn't truly know her made it all the more intoxicating. It terrified him. And yet, he craved it. Craved her.

God, the feel of her skin was silk against his fingertips, haunting him with phantom sensations that no amount of logic could erase. North knew with all his years and knowledge that he was headed down a path of possible self-destruction. But as he watched her paint and joke with the yetis, that twisted part of him whispered that it didn’t matter.

As if sensing his gaze, Azaria looked up, her eyes catching his before she offered him a small, knowing smile and returned to her conversation. The simplicity of it, the ease with which she acknowledged him, sent something sharp through his chest, something dangerously corrupted and close to longing.

If it meant seeing her smile at him like that again… to be able to touch her again, he’d burn the whole fucking world down just to make it happen. The realization gripped him, dark and unrelenting.

He stilled, his breath shallow. If just a fleeting moment had him thinking like this … what the hell would happen if she truly became his?

The thought unsettled him, clawed at the foundations of who he was. He was a protector, guardian, the embodiment of joy. He built, he gave, he created wonder for the world. And yet, she made him feel something unbidden, something selfish. It was unlike him, this raw, unrelenting desire to possess . To take. To keep. He had spent centuries mastering restraint, ensuring that his strength was only ever used for good. But when he looked at her, when he imagined her within his reach, he feared that control could slip.

He forced himself to inhale, to push back against the darkness curling at the edges of his mind. He was a good man. He had to be. But the way she made him ache, the way his soul burned for her  terrified him. Because deep down, some twisted part of him whispered that he would forsake everything, his honor, his duty, his very name , if it meant having her for himself. 

North exhaled slowly, grounding himself as he watched Azaria move, her presence still lingering in his mind like an echo he couldn’t shake. He had to remind himself of who he was, that he was a good man despite his past and inner turmoil. But what terrified him as he sat there and painted eggs, exterior as cool as ice compared to roaring inferno inside of them, wasn’t losing himself to the darkness; it was the possibility that an ever growing part of him wanted to.

Beyond him, Sophie crouched low, her gaze catching something nestled in the grass. Carefully, she lifted a beautifully painted egg, its surface gleaming with intricate designs. She turned it in her hands, marveling at the details before proudly presenting it to Bunny.

"That's a beauty!" Bunny said, nodding in approval.

Taking Sophie by the hand, he guided her through an ancient stone archway. "Now all we gotta do is get him and his little mates through the tunnels, to the top, and we'll have ourselves Easter."

Bunny surveyed the streams of colored eggs gathering near the tunnels in the distance, his chest swelling with pride. As he stood there, Jack approached, moving alongside him.

"Not bad," Jack admitted, eyeing the spectacle before them.

Sophie, nestled comfortably in Bunny’s arms, let out a tiny yawn, her energy finally dwindling. Bunny glanced down at her with a fond smile. "Not bad yourself."

As Azaria turned to follow Jack, North hesitated. His hand lifted slightly before his fingers wrapped firmly around her wrist. It wasn’t enough to restrain her, but enough to make her pause. The warmth of her skin against his sent a pulse of something dark and unwelcome through his chest. She turned, surprise flickering across her face, and for a moment, he thought of telling her. Not as her leader. Not as a Guardian. But as a man who did not want her to go.

His mouth opened, the words forming on the tip of his tongue. Stay.

But hesitation gripped him. He swallowed hard, his grip tightening before he forced himself to let go, fingers curling into a fist at his side. His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes burned with something raw, something dangerously close to claiming. The darkness within him rattled against its cage, whispering that she belonged near them, not away, not slipping through his fingers like smoke.

Azaria tilted her head, reading him in that quiet, perceptive way she always did. The other Guardians had fallen silent, watching the exchange with interest—Bunny with a raised brow, Tooth with wide eyes, even Jack looked caught off guard. But none of them could hear the battle raging inside him, the war between the man who protected and the man who wanted.

With a soft smile, she murmured, "Relax, big guy. I promise not to do anything too reckless."

North’s jaw tightened further, but he said nothing. His fingers still burned with the phantom sensation of her skin beneath his touch.

Azaria gave his arm a playful pat before stepping back. "Unless, of course, there's a really cool explosion involved then all bets are off."

A reluctant chuckle escaped North, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t quite ease. As she walked away, something inside him coiled tight, the unease settling deep in his belly.

Azaria didn’t hesitate. With practiced ease, she unhooked her meteor hammer, the coiled chain glinting in the soft glow of the Warren. She paused, her silhouette framed against the shimmering night, the golden glow of her magic casting dancing shadows across her face. With a flick of her wrist, she spun the meteor hammer, twirling her body slightly as the momentum picked up and the chain ignited with crackling arcs of energy.

Sparks trailed in the air as the weapon circled her, forming a luminous ring that pulsed with power. Then, with a smirk, she stepped forward into the glowing arc, her figure dissolving into a cascade of golden embers.

For a brief moment, the embers lingered, swirling as if reluctant to let her go, before they faded into the air. North exhaled sharply, watching the trio disappear. His hands curled into fists at his sides, the phantom warmth of Azaria’s wrist still lingering on his skin. He didn’t like this, not one damn bit. And yet, there was nothing he could do now but wait.

"North?" Tooth asked gently, fluttering closer, her voice careful. "They'll be fine. Azaria is sharp, one hell of a fighter. She’ll make sure Jack stays on task."

He didn't answer. His shoulders were rigid, his stance locked as though he could root himself to the ground and pull her back through sheer force of will. His eyes remained fixed on the spot where she had disappeared, scanning the empty space as if some part of her lingered there. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

Randy and Jeff, the two yetis who had accompanied them to the Warren, exchanged uneasy glances. Their thick brows lifted in concern as they recognized the shift in him, that quiet tension coiling like a beast restrained and starved, barely caged beneath the weight of his control.

He knew he had no right to demand she stay, no claim beyond duty, beyond the unspoken lines neither of them had dared cross. And yet, watching her disappear into the night left something jagged and restless in his chest. The idea of her out of his reach gnawed at him, uncoiling something deep and primal, something he had long since buried. The darkness in him, the part of him that had always existed beneath the laughter and light, rattled against its cage. It whispered in a voice slick with hunger, a voice he could almost mistake for his own: She should be here. With you. Not out there where you cannot protect her.

North exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to turn away before anyone could see just how deep the unrest ran. His fingers flexed at his sides before he rolled his shoulders back and squared himself, his voice gruff as he spoke. "Enough standing around. We have work to finish."

Bunny, still watching him, tilted his head slightly before exchanging a glance with Tooth. As North strode off toward the Warren tunnels, Tooth hovered closer to Bunny, lowering her voice. "I’ve never seen him like that before. That was... different."

Bunny’s ears twitched, his gaze flicking in the direction Azaria had vanished. He let out a knowing chuckle, crossing his arms. "Well, well. Looks like the big guy’s finally got himself a crush."

Jack and Azaria arrived at Sophie’s house in the quiet stillness of the night, their steps light as they approached the window. Jack nudged it open with ease, slipping inside with Sophie still asleep in his arms. Azaria followed, landing softly beside him, her gaze instantly flicking around the room.

Her eyes widened as she spotted an impressive pile of toys stacked in the corner. "Aw, shoot. She’s got the Superbubble Bubble Gun 2000? Lucky," she whispered with a dramatic pout, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to grab it. "Man, I always wanted one of those."

Jack shot her a look as he struggled to lower Sophie into her bed. "Zee, focus."

"I am focused—on the fact that this kid is living the absolute dream," she said, crossing her arms with a huff, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I mean, look at this place. She’s got a kingdom of toys!"

Jack scoffed, adjusting Sophie’s weight as she unconsciously tightened her grip around his neck. He tried to ease her down, but she only clung tighter, dangling in the air like a stubborn koala. "Uh…Zee, help!"

Azaria bit back a laugh at the pure panic in his voice. "Oh, now you need me? I thought I was ‘focused’ enough for you" she teased, stepping forward. Baby Tooth fluttered anxiously around them, unsure how to help.

Jack shot her a desperate look. "Less sass, more help!"

Rolling her eyes, Azaria carefully pried Sophie’s tiny hands off Jack’s hoodie, whispering soothing nonsense as she settled the little girl onto the mattress. Sophie mumbled something incoherent, stretching out before promptly rolling over. And right off the bed.

Jack lunged, but Azaria was faster. She caught Sophie mid-tumble, flipping the blanket over her in one smooth motion before tucking a stuffed animal into her arms. Sophie snuggled into it without waking, sighing contentedly.

Jack let out a long, relieved breath, resting his hands on his knees. "That was way harder than it should’ve been."

Azaria grinned. "Yeah, and I’m the one with impulse control issues."

Before Jack could fire back, a voice called from the hall.

"Sophie? Is that you?"

Jack and Azaria both froze. Baby Tooth darted around in alarm, eyes wide. Without missing a beat, Azaria grabbed Jack by the sleeve, yanking him toward the window. "Time to go, Frosty!"

Jack barely had time to shut the window behind them before they disappeared into the night. As they landed outside, he exchanged a glance with Baby Tooth before exhaling in relief.

"Never again," he muttered.

“Boy this was your idea in the first place.” Azaria nudged him playfully. "Besides, come on, that was kinda fun."

Jack groaned. "You and I have very different definitions of ‘fun.’"

“We should get back, we’ve been gone long enough as it is.” 

Baby Tooth nodded in agreement and Azaria prepared to teleport back to the Warren when all of a sudden. 

A faint laugh echoed through the night.

"Jack..."

Jack froze mid-step, his breath hitching. The voice—it was familiar, achingly so. He turned sharply, scanning the quiet town, his gaze drawn toward the woods at the outskirts.

"That voice," he murmured, a frown creasing his brow. "I know that voice..."

Baby Tooth chirped anxiously, flitting around him, her tiny form radiating concern. Azaria, perched on the window ledge beside him, raised an eyebrow.

"What voice?" she asked, her gaze darting around. "I don’t hear anything."

Jack didn’t answer. Instead, he took a step forward, then another, and before Azaria could grab him, he leapt off the ledge, wind catching him as he shot through the air.

"Oh, hell no!" Azaria hissed. Without hesitation, she unhooked her meteor hammer, golden energy crackling as she used it to teleport in short bursts, struggling to keep up with him. The jumps were disorienting at this speed, her breath coming out in short huffs as she landed atop a rooftop, only to vanish and reappear several feet ahead.

Jack flew across town, drawn by the eerie voice only he could hear. Azaria gritted her teeth, forcing herself to push forward.

"Jack!" she called, irritation creeping into her tone. "Where the hell are you even going?"

No answer. He was locked onto something, something that had grabbed hold of him deep inside. Baby Tooth flitted beside him, trying to slow him down, but Jack was relentless.

Azaria grumbled under her breath. "I swear, if this is some mystical ghost nonsense, I am not in the mood."

Jack landed on a rotating vent, his body still as the momentum slowly spun him around. He barely seemed aware of his surroundings as his head tilted toward the darkened treeline.

"Jack..." The voice called again, barely above a whisper.

Azaria teleported onto a rooftop just in time to see him launch himself toward the woods. Her stomach twisted.

"Oh, hell no," she muttered, eyes narrowing. "Listen, dude, my spidey senses are tingling right now, and we need to get the hell up on outta here. Right now."

Jack didn’t stop. Azaria inhaled sharply and, despite every rational bone in her body telling her to turn back, she teleported after him.

The woods swallowed them whole.

Jack landed in a thickly wooded area, the dense canopy above swallowing most of the moonlight, leaving only fractured beams to illuminate the forest floor. Baby Tooth hovered at his shoulder, chirping desperately, tugging at his tunic as though trying to snap him out of whatever trance he was in. Azaria materialized a few feet behind him, her breathing heavy from the constant teleportation.

"Jack," she snapped, voice sharp with frustration. "What the hell are we even doing here?"

Jack didn’t answer. His gaze was locked on something deeper within the trees, his expression distant, almost vacant.

"Jack..."

The whisper carried through the trees again, softer this time, almost coaxing. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward it, crashing through the undergrowth.

"Oh, for fu—" Azaria groaned, launching herself forward. "Would you stop running toward the creepy whispering?!"

She teleported ahead in short bursts, but Jack was quick, moving with an unnatural urgency. Baby Tooth darted after him, still chirping in alarm.

They burst into a clearing, and Jack skidded to a stop. Azaria landed behind him, stumbling slightly before righting herself. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before them.

A decrepit, rotting bed frame sat eerily in the middle of the clearing, its wooden slats long since broken and weathered by time. The sight of it sent a shiver crawling up Azaria’s spine.

"Okay..." she said slowly, eyes darting around. "What in the actual horror movie nonsense is this? Why is there a bed in the middle of the woods?"

Jack ignored her. He took a slow step forward, eyes dark with something unreadable. "Don’t worry, there’s still time," he murmured under his breath.

Azaria stiffened. "What? Time for what? Jack, snap out of it !"

Baby Tooth tugged more aggressively at Jack’s tunic now, chirping louder in distress. But Jack barely seemed to notice. He tightened his grip on his staff and swung it forward, smashing through the bed frame with a loud crack .

Azaria flinched back. "Jack, what the hell?!"

The broken frame revealed a hole beneath it, leading deep into the earth, a black abyss that seemed to swallow any trace of light. The air shifted, suddenly colder.

"Jack..."

The voice came again, this time from the darkness below.

Azaria’s gut twisted violently. Every instinct screamed at her to back away, to get as far from that hole as possible.

Jack, however, didn’t hesitate. He jumped down.

"You absolute dumbass !" Azaria yelled, eyes widening in sheer disbelief. Baby Tooth shot her a panicked look before reluctantly diving in after him.

Azaria clenched her fists, her pulse hammering in her ears. She took one shaky step forward, glaring down into the abyss. "I hate this. I hate this so much," she muttered, then took a deep breath and jumped.

The tunnels were colder than Azaria expected. Damp, the air thick and oppressive. She landed hard, rolling to absorb the impact, before springing to her feet.

Jack was already moving ahead, deeper into the cavernous labyrinth, his staff casting an eerie glow. Baby Tooth hovered beside him, still tugging frantically at his clothes, trying to slow him down.

"Jack, stop!" Azaria hissed, stalking after him. "You can’t just jump into a creepy underground hole ! That’s literally how people die in horror movies!"

Jack waved her off, barely sparing her a glance. "I have to find out what this is."

Azaria exhaled sharply through her nose, seething. "Oh, great plan. Love that for us."

The tunnel opened up into a massive underground cavern. The moment they stepped inside, Azaria’s breath hitched.

Dozens of massive birdcages hung from the ceiling, suspended by rusted chains. Inside them, fluttering in distress, were the tiny forms of mini Tooth Fairies, their iridescent wings catching the dim glow of Jack’s staff.

Jack’s eyes widened. "Oh no..."

The fairies saw him and immediately perked up, their tiny chirps frantic, pleading.

Jack leapt up onto one of the cages, balancing effortlessly as he climbed higher, reaching toward them. "Shhh, keep it down," he whispered. "I’m gonna get you out of here—just as soon as I—"

"Jack..."

The voice returned, and Jack hesitated, his grip slackening.

Azaria gritted her teeth. Enough was enough. With a sharp inhale, she sprinted toward the nearest cavern wall, planting her foot against he stone before launching herself upward. Her momentum carried her high, her body twisting midair as she tucked her knees to her chest and flipped backward. She extended her arm as she reached the height of her arc, her fingers latching onto the iron bars of a hanging cage. The impact sent the cage swaying dangerously, but she held firm, muscles burning as she hoisted herself up with practiced ease. The Baby Teeth inside crowded around her, chirping in alarm, but she barely noticed, her focus locked onto Jack below.

Jack turned toward the source of the voice, distracted. "As I….", Jack looks down and sees the tooth drawers from Tooth's Palace. Mounds of them heaped to the ceiling. And inside the drawers are the missing baby teeth.

Azaria felt her stomach lurch as she watched him act like a crazed addict.  "No. Nope. You are not doing this right now. You're going to help me and Baby Tooth get them out of here. Jack. Jack!"

Ignoring her, he drops down to a mound and begins rummaging through the drawers in desperation, looking at the names on the boxes.

Azaria watches him in disbelief and betrayal, turning to face the Baby Teeth crying out to her, shushing them quietly as she tries to get out some of her powder pouch to see if she could break the locks. "I know my loves, but you have to be quiet. It's gonna be okay. I'm here for you." 

In an instant, Jack had forgotten his duties, the fairies, Azaria and the Guardians and everything except those teeth, and the chance to finally get his memory back.

The cavern suddenly goes darker than it already was.

"Shit," Azaria cursed, quickly swinging herself underneath and behind the cage, clinging using all of her strength to try and keep it from swaying. The Baby Teeth inside of it were crowding around her, trying to hide her figure.

"This is not going to end well," she muttered under her breath, bracing herself as the shadows in the cavern deepened. "And when I get my hands on him, I'm gonna sew his ass to his face."

Jack finally looks up, as a shadow of Pitch crawls up a nearby column.

A cold chuckle echoed through the cavern.

"Looking for something?"

Jack spun, staff raised, unleashing a sharp blast of ice—but Pitch wasn’t there. His laughter slithered through the shadows, bouncing off the stone walls, teasing, taunting. Jack took off after the sound, weaving through the labyrinth of pillars, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Azaria, still perched high on the iron cage, stiffened at the sound of that voice. Her breath came out in short bursts as she kept a firm grip on the bars, her muscles aching from the effort of holding still. The Baby Teeth inside the cage pressed close to her, their iridescent wings fluttering anxiously.

Jack rounded a corner, catching a glimpse of Pitch’s shadow gliding along the walls, slipping into a corridor choked in darkness.

"Don’t be afraid, Jack," Pitch’s voice cooed from the void. "I’m not going to hurt you."

Jack pressed forward, jaw clenched. "Afraid?" he scoffed, but the stiffness in his grip betrayed him.

Azaria’s instincts screamed at her to move, but before she could push off, a thick tendril of black mist shot up from below. It coiled around her ankle and yanked, nearly jerking her off balance. She choked back a curse, twisting to strike at it with her meteor hammer, but another tendril lashed out, slithering around her wrist, dragging her down with a force that rattled her bones.

"Oh, you," Pitch’s voice purred from the shadows, his amusement laced with something darker. "Always the reckless one, aren’t you?"

Azaria gritted her teeth, thrashing against the inky chains tightening around her limbs. "Oh, bite me , Slenderman!"

The tendrils yanked her downward, pulling her from the cage. The Baby Teeth chirped in frantic distress as she fought, but the shadows twisted around her, siphoning her strength, sapping the magic from her limbs like leeches draining her dry.

"Fascinating," Pitch mused, watching her struggle. "Such a bright little flame, and yet, so easy to snuff out. Tell me, Azaria—do you feel it? The way your magic falters? The way your strength flickers like a dying ember?"

Azaria gasped, her limbs heavy, her teleportation magic fizzling uselessly beneath Pitch’s grip. The cavern around her warped, the dim light swallowed whole by the consuming dark.

Jack, unaware, stalked further into the labyrinth, chasing after shadows. "You think you know me?" he growled.

Pitch finally stepped into the dim glow, standing on a bridge across the cavern. "Oh, I know you, Jack," he murmured. "I know what you fear."

Jack advanced, cautious but unwavering. "You think so, huh?"

"I know so," Pitch countered smoothly. "It’s the one thing I always know. People’s greatest fears." He finally turned to face Jack fully, his golden eyes gleaming. "And yours? That no one will ever believe in you."

Jack’s breath hitched—so quick, so subtle—but Pitch saw it. Seized it.

Azaria, trapped in the suffocating grasp of the shadows, watched in helpless fury. She tried to call out, to snap Jack from the trance Pitch was pulling him into, but the darkness pressed against her throat, robbing her of breath.

Jack took a wary step back, eyes darting around as the chamber filled with shifting shadows. Before he could react, the darkness moved , twisting reality on its axis. He stumbled, crashing into what felt like solid ground—only for the world to spin again, disorienting him completely.

Pitch chuckled, unseen now. "And worst of all... you’re afraid you’ll never know why. Why you ? Why were you chosen... to be like this?"

Jack turned sharply, his heart pounding. The cavern entrance behind him had vanished, replaced with an endless void.

Azaria forced her trembling fingers to curl into fists, her anger boiling beneath the suffocating weight of Pitch’s hold. She had to move. She had to do something .

"Well, fear not," Pitch purred, stepping forward, holding out a small box, its delicate carvings gleaming in the low light. "For the answer to that... is right here."

Jack’s entire body locked in place. His name was etched into the surface of the box. "Jack Frost."

His past. His memories.

Azaria saw the hesitation flicker in Jack’s eyes and panic clawed at her ribs. "Don’t!" she tried to yell, but the words barely came out as a rasp.

Jack stared, torn between his longing and his instincts. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, but when he opened them—

Pitch was gone.

The cavern distorted again, shadows bleeding into every corner. Jack turned, desperate to locate Pitch, but all he saw were flickering afterimages, shifting between pillars, their laughter hollow and taunting.

"Everything you wanted to know..." Pitch’s voice drifted through the darkness.

Jack spun, his breath shallow. "Where—"

"In this little box."

Shadows leaped and twisted, creating a maze of illusions. Multiple versions of Pitch flickered along the walls, their golden eyes gleaming as they closed in.

"Why did you end up like this? Unseen. Unable to reach out to anyone."

Azaria jerked against the shadows holding her captive, her head throbbing from the magic draining from her veins. Pitch wasn’t just restraining her—he was feeding off her.

She tried once more to summon a spark, anything to break free, but her flames sputtered out the moment they ignited. That’s when she saw it—the thin veil of dark sand swirling through the air, lacing itself into the energy she had tried to conjure. Corrupting it.

Pitch chuckled, sensing her realization. "Fireworks, explosions, such colorful little things," he mused, watching her with amused fascination. "But oh, how fragile they are. Just a touch of the right element… and poof ." he snapped his fingers, "nothing but smoke and disappointment."

Azaria’s eyes widened. Pitch wasn’t just holding her captive, he was altering her power, corrupting the very reaction that allowed her flames to burst to life. He was poisoning her magic at the source, just like he had with Sandy. 

Jack’s grip tightened on his staff as the illusions wove tighter around him, backing him into a corner until the darkness swallowed him whole.

"You don’t know what I am!" Jack snapped, raising his staff.

Pitch only smirked. "Oh, but I do. You’re Jack Frost. You make a mess wherever you go. Why, you’re doing it right now."

He tossed the box toward Jack. Instinctively, Jack caught it, his grip tightening around it before realization dawned.

Azaria’s vision swam as she fought against the smothering sand constricting her lungs. Jack had slipped into Pitch’s grip, and she had been powerless to stop it. 

"What did you do?" Jack demanded, his voice shaking.

Pitch stepped back, his form blending into the shadows once more. "More to the point, Jack... what did you do?"

“Happy Easter Jack,” a final, haunting laugh and Pitch vanished into the darkness.

Jack lunged after him only for the shadows to snap open beneath his feet like a pit, swallowing him whole.

Jack flies out of Pitch's shadow, ready to strike. Suddenly, he realizes he's forgotten something. And someone. 

“Baby Tooth! Azaria!” 

He turns to re-enter the hole in the wall only to find  himself face to face with one of Bunny's stone emblems.

Jack turns around. Suddenly, his eyes fill with dread as he realizes where he is. Thousands of broken egg shells lay strewn about, forming a path toward the light at the end of the tunnel. The children of the London park are devastated, their little faces twisted in disappointment, sadness, and frustration

“No,” he whispered, clutching at the neck of his hoodie. Bunny clutched his egg basket tightly as he approached a group of children, their small faces clouded with disappointment. They wandered aimlessly, their search halfhearted, their excitement drained.

"Kids! Oi!" Bunny called, his voice light, though a hint of desperation laced it.

A British boy frowned, kicking at the grass. "I checked everywhere! There’s nothing!"

Bunny stepped forward, ears twitching. "Yes, there is! There is! I mean, these aren’t my best-lookin’ googies, but they’ll do in a pinch!"

He held out a broken Easter egg, its cracked shell dull beneath the dim sky. The children only stared, unmoved.

A British girl shook her head, arms crossed. "I can’t believe it."

Bunny grinned. "I know."

But then her expression hardened. "There’s no such thing as the Easter Bunny."

The words hit harder than any battle wound. The girl turned away, her belief shattered.

"What?" Bunny’s ears drooped.

Other children echoed her sentiment, their voices a low murmur of disillusionment.

"Easter’s over. Forget this."

The realization struck like a cold wind—he was too late. The spark of childhood, the magic of belief, had already been extinguished. Bunny’s heart clenched as the kids moved through him like he wasn’t even there.

"No! Wrong! N-not true! I’m right in front of ya, mate!" he insisted, waving his arms wildly, but their eyes passed over him, unseeing.

More voices drifted through the air, quiet but final.

"There’s no such thing."

"I know."

"Let’s go home."

"Why wouldn’t he come?"

"This is the worst Easter ever."

The words stung deeper than Bunny thought possible. His stomach twisted as reality set in.

"They don’t see me," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He swallowed, his throat tight. "They don’t see me."

A few feet away, Jack stood frozen, watching it all unfold. Guilt coiled in his chest, heavy and suffocating. This was his fault. He had failed them.

Tooth hovered beside Bunny, her tiny frame trembling with sorrow as she reached for him, but he barely registered the gesture.

A rustle in the bushes snapped him back to the present. Jack tensed, fingers tightening around his staff as he braced for the worst.

"Jack, where were you?"

The voice was hoarse, ragged with exhaustion.

Jack turned to find North standing there, scimitars still clutched in his hands. His coat was torn, his face streaked with grime and battle-worn fatigue. The usual fire in his eyes had dimmed, replaced by something raw and frayed.

"Nightmares attacked the tunnels," North ground out, his voice laced with fury. "They smashed every egg, crushed every basket. Nothing made it to the surface."

"Jack!" Tooth’s voice cut through the air, sharp with urgency.

Jack flinched, but North didn’t seem to notice.

His gaze swept the park, desperate for something— someone —to anchor him after the chaos. He needed her smile, that quiet reassurance she always carried. A witty remark or sassy comment. 

But it never came.

His heart pounded louder, not from relief, but from something far worse.

Where is she?

"Jack. Where did you get that?" Tooth asks, shakily pointing at his hand.  

Jack swallowed hard, but no words came as he looked down at the tooth box in his hand then back to Tooth. 

"I was...it's..." 

"Where's Baby Tooth?" 

"Jack." North gripped his shoulder, his eyes still searching around them. "Where is Azaria?" 

He had no answer.

"Oh Jack, what have you done?" Tooth gasped out, betrayal etched into her face. The feathers surrounding her seemed to darken. 

"That is why you weren't here? " North ground his teeth, scimitars shaking from the white knuckles grip he had on them. "You were with Pitch? And where is Azaria?" 

"She...I think she was taken by Pitch." 

"You think ?!" The cry rang out in unison, sharp with disbelief and accusation. Bunny scoffed, dragging his ears down in sheer frustration.

"How do you not know?" Tooth’s voice was incredulous, her disbelief cutting like a blade. "What happened?"

The world blurred at the edges as North’s rage surged, something ancient and dark clawing at his insides, howling to be let loose. The edges of his vision tinged red. Tooth’s questioning faded into something sharper, more raw, an animalistic snarl ripping from his lips.

His breath came in ragged, heavy bursts, like a beast barely restrained. Taken. Taken. Taken. The word echoed through his skull, each repetition a strike against his restraint. His mind spiraled into the horrors Pitch could be subjecting her to. 

Was his darkness curling around her like a noose, twisting, suffocating? Would she be screaming for him? Or had Pitch already silenced her?

His scimitars rattled. Rip him apart. The thought came unbidden, searing, undeniable. The monster buried in his blood—ancient, unrelenting—demanded a twisted justice. No, it demanded vengeance .

But through the violent storm in his mind, Jack’s voice cracked through the chaos.

"No, listen, listen… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen."

North’s head snapped up. His glare burned into Jack, his breath heavy, uneven. The rage inside him no longer simmered and seethed , black and primal, coiling through his veins like a living thing.

A shadow curled at the edges of his vision, a presence he had long kept buried, stirring like a beast woken too soon from slumber. His pulse hammered, not with fear, but with something old , something far worse than wrath alone.

Taken. Taken. The word slithered through his mind like a whisper of rusted chains dragging across ice.

His fingers flexed around the hilts of his scimitars, muscles screaming to move—to tear, to rend, to reclaim . Not just from Pitch, but from the cowardice that had allowed this to happen. The air around him felt heavier, thick with a pressure that pressed against the others, unnoticed but impossible to ignore.

A deep, guttural sound rumbled in his chest, low and scraping, a growl that didn’t belong to the North they knew. His breath turned to steam despite the warmth of the day, curling from his lips like the exhale of something monstrous.

His mind spun with images of shadows closing in around her, those soulless creatures wrapping their talons around her wrists, their whispers poisoning her ears, stripping away her light, leaving only cold emptiness behind.

What has he done to her?

A terrible stillness settled over him. His grip on restraint was slipping.

He exhaled slowly, deliberately. If he let go, if he allowed himself to tip over the edge then there would be no pulling back. And yet, the hunger for vengeance gnawed at him, something within him smiling at the thought of what he could do to Pitch .

Not vengeance. Correction .

His knuckles cracked as he finally spoke, voice eerily quiet.

"Jack… do you know what you’ve done?"

Chapter Text

The silence stretched between them, thick as ice, brittle as glass. Jack swallowed hard, shifting his weight, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach out but knew better. His expression was tight, regret carved into every line of his face.

North’s stare didn’t waver. Cold. Heavy. A storm poised to break.

Jack hesitated, but his voice came small, uncertain. “I—I didn’t think—”

The scimitars rattled again.

“Didn’t think?” North’s words were razor-sharp, slicing through the air with quiet, deliberate precision. “Or didn’t care?”

Jack flinched.

The shadows at the edge of North’s vision thickened, coiling like smoke, twisting through the cracks in his restraint. The beast inside him prowled closer to the surface, drawn to the scent of weakness, of failure, of loss.

The word Taken still pulsed in his mind, a drumbeat of fury in his chest.

His fingers flexed. If she is gone…

The thought was unbearable.

His grip on the scimitars tightened, the leather-wrapped hilts biting into his palms. Every instinct screamed to act—to move —to hunt, to reclaim what was his. To tear apart the shadows that dared to take her from him.

A flicker of movement caught his eye—Tooth, standing rigid beside Bunny, both of them tense, watching, waiting. They felt it too. The shift in the air, the wrongness curling around him, growing sharper by the second.

Bunny's ears pinned back. “North…”

A warning.

North barely heard it. His breath turned to mist, the space between him and Jack shrinking, suffocating.

Jack’s throat bobbed. “I—”

North moved. It wasn’t a lunge, not an attack, just a step, and it was enough to send Jack stumbling back as if the ground beneath him had fractured.

North’s voice dropped lower, quieter, more dangerous. “Where. Is. She?”

Jack’s breath hitched. His eyes darted to the side, to the others, as if they could save him from the weight of North’s fury. But there was no saving him from this—not when North’s patience was a thread pulled too thin, fraying at the edges.

“I—” Jack started, then stopped, swallowing hard.

The hesitation was a mistake.

North surged forward, a single, deliberate step that made Jack stumble back again, his hands half-raised as if that alone could stop what was coming. The scimitars whispered against their sheathes, the metallic rasp a promise, a warning.

“Where. Is. She?” North repeated, slower this time, the words sinking into the marrow of Jack’s bones.

Jack lifted his hands, palms out, desperation flickering in his eyes. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of it. “I heard this voice, and I started chasing it… Azaria, she was right behind me o-or I thought she was. We ended up in this forest, and there was this hole.” His breath hitched, fingers curling into fists. “I tried,” he repeated, as if saying it enough times would make it true.

North’s muscles coiled, his mind barely registering the room around him. The shadows at the edges of his vision thickened, gnawing at his restraint, whispering that this was his fault, that his hesitation had cost her everything.

Taken .

The word slithered through him again, sharp as ice, thick as tar.

“You tried ?” The words were gravel, scraping against the stone of his throat. “That is not enough.”

Jack bristled, guilt and frustration flaring in his expression. “You think I don’t know that?” His voice rose, cracking at the edges. “I know, okay? I know I should have done more! But I’m not—” He sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “I’m not you .”

North’s grip flexed around his scimitars, restraint slipping by the second. A dark, familiar pulse thundered through North’s veins, his true nature pressing against the surface, urging him forward.

Rip him apart. Tear him open until you have answers.

A sound rumbled from his chest, deep and feral. Jack stiffened, the others tensing in the periphery, but North barely registered them anymore.

He could already see it. The shadows curled around her wrists, dragging her into the abyss. The fear in her eyes. The way she must have called for him and the others…and he hadn’t been there.

A mistake. One that could not be undone.

His breath steamed in the air despite the warmth of the early spring day, and Jack took another step back, but North was already moving. Too fast.

Jack barely had time to react before the steel of a scimitar kissed the side of his throat, light but deadly, the blade humming with restrained violence.

Tooth gasped. Bunny swore under his breath.

Behind North, Randy and Jeff stood motionless, their fur bristling, muscles tight. Yetis were not easily shaken. They had weathered storms, fought battles, faced horrors that would make most creatures cower. But this was different. This was something they had hoped never to see again.

“North,” Bunny warned, ears flattening.

North did not hear him. His world had narrowed, a slow collapse into something dark and suffocating.

His voice, when it came, was ice and ruin, threading through the park like a slow-moving frost. The elves shuddered and pressed behind the Yetis, eyes clenched shut. Not just in fear, but in restraint.

The Yetis stood still, breath measured, shoulders stiff. A tension rippled through them, subtle but present. The weight of it pressed at the edges, a quiet, invisible force threatening to shift something buried. Something old.

The air thickened, charged with an energy that felt just a little too heavy.

“If she is lost,” he murmured, his accent thicker, rougher, “I will make you understand what that means.”

Jack swallowed, throat bobbing against the blade.

For a second, no one moved.

The moment stretched unbearably long. Jack barely dared to breathe, the press of North’s blade cool against his throat, a silent promise of what could come next. The weight in North’s eyes was suffocating, more than fury, more than grief. It was something deeper, something ancient and unrelenting.

Jack’s hands twitched at his sides, useless. His chest ached, his pulse thrumming in his ears. He had never feared North. Not truly. Not until now.

Bunny’s voice cut through the tension, rough and raw. “North.”

The single word carried an unspoken plea, but it barely touched the storm unraveling inside him.

Jack forced himself to speak, voice hoarse. “North, please…”

The scimitar didn’t waver.

But something flickered in North’s expression, barely there, a single fragile moment where something human broke through the darkness.

A second too late.

North exhaled sharply, pulling the blade away with slow, measured precision. Jack staggered back, his chest burning from an unseen wound that cut deeper than steel ever could.

The silence that followed was heavy, pressing in on all of them.

Then Bunny turned to Tooth and the others, voice firm and unwavering.

“He has to go.”

The words struck like a blow. Jack flinched, his breath catching, his face twisting with something close to anguish. “W-what?”

“We should never have trusted you.”

Jack recoiled as if struck. His lips parted, but no words came.

Tooth reached for Bunny, voice quiet but urgent. “Bunny—”

He jerked away from her touch, ears flattened, fur bristling, his whole body trembling with the force of what he was holding back. “No. Easter is new beginnings, new life. Easter is hope. ” His voice cracked, raw with something too big to contain. His fists clenched at his sides, shaking.

“And so is Azaria. New Year’s, fresh starts, second chances. That was her. ” His breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling too fast. “She didn’t just believe in us. She revived us. I felt new again.” His voice dropped as his gaze flicked to Tooth. “Tooth has been smiling in ways I haven’t seen in centuries, and I know it’s because there’s finally another woman on the team.”

His eyes landed on North, and something inside him shattered.

“And North.” His voice wavered, thick with emotion. “Look at him now.”

North stood in the shadows, silent and unmoving, but the weight of his presence filled every inch of space between them.

“She was your friend, Jack.” Bunny’s voice dropped, hoarse and breaking. “She was the only one who never stopped believing in you. And now she’s gone.” He sucked in a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut as if trying to steady himself.

His next words came quiet, almost too fragile to hold the weight they carried.

“They’re both gone.”

The finality of it settled over them all like a burial shroud.

Bunny turned away, shoulders rigid, his gaze falling on the bright, painted sign ahead. Easter Egg Hunt. The sight of it felt almost cruel.

Jack turned, searching the others faces. Tooth, North, the Yetis but none met his gaze.

The silence pressed down on him like a wave, thick and suffocating.

‘This was exactly what Pitch had said would happen ,’ Jack thought to himself, a dark whisper that echoed in his mind. 

Jack swallowed hard, his fingers curling inside his pocket. The small wooden figure pressed against his palm.

North’s gift.

A symbol of trust and of promise. Jack held back a whimper, his hand trembling and he almost put it back. Almost held on.

But then he exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. No .

If this was how they saw him, if this was how it ended, then fine.

His fingers loosened.

The doll slipped through his grasp, landing softly in the dirt. Forgotten.

As the wind carried him away, none of them saw the thin trail of golden sand seeping from his hoodie’s pocket, flickering once before vanishing into the cold.

North stared at the place where Jack had stood, where the wooden doll now lay half-buried in the dirt. The wind had already begun to settle, the air growing still, but the weight in his chest did not ease.

The others had not moved. Bunny stood rigid, ears flattened, fists clenched as though he still needed something to fight. Tooth’s wings trembled, her fingers pressed to her lips, her gaze darting between the abandoned doll and North. The Yetis remained as they were, silent and unmoving, but the air around them still carried an unnatural tension, like something just beneath the surface had begun to wake.

North inhaled deeply, forcing his breath to steady. The frost at his fingertips had begun to recede, but the storm within him had not.

Azaria was gone. Jack was gone.

And yet, even as the thought settled in his mind, something deeper, something buried, resisted it. She was not gone. She could not be. Not her.

A flash surfaced of her laughter, bright and unburdened, filling the space between them like the chime of a bell at midnight. She had been warmth in the middle of winter, a steady hand, a force of light that had seeped into all of them before they had even realized it.

She didn’t just believe in us. She revived us. Bunny’s words echoed in his ears. They had all noticed 

North clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists.

It had taken Pitch years to conjure a way to overpower Sandy, crafting his schemes with precision and patience. But Azaria had been an anomaly, an unpredictable force that had never fit into his design. North had always admired that about her, found it refreshing, even exhilarating. She was the kind of chaos that breathed life into the world rather than destroying it.

If there was still breath in her lungs, if there was even the smallest chance…

He would find her.

And knowing her, she was probably using it to curse Pitch out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Darkness flickered at the edges of Azaria’s mind, curling like ink through water. Her body ached, her limbs sluggish, but she could not tell if it was real or part of the haze pulling at her.

Then the haze thinned, just enough to let something else through.

A memory.

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

"Don’t! They’ll kill you for this," a hushed voice pleaded, thick with fear.

A dry laugh escaped Azaria’s lips. "Then at least I'll die doing something for the people I love. I’m already dead—but at least I'll be free." She exhaled sharply, heart hammering. "They can’t take anything from me now. My family is with me." A flicker of mischief danced beneath the raw conviction in her words. "Besides, our people deserve to see the light in these dark times."

Her fingers trembled as she struck the flint, sending a single spark to the wick of the first firework. It flared to life, hissing and crackling. She scrambled back, breath caught in her throat as the flame slithered toward the barrels stacked high with stolen powder and explosives—supplies meant for the Master’s son’s engagement celebration.

But instead, tonight it would belong to them. Azaria  had made sure of that.

For years, she had been a problem. A thorn in the overseers’ sides, too defiant to break, too clever to keep chained. She sabotaged, stole, whispered escape into ears too afraid to dream. She had given them something far more dangerous than rebellion.

She had given them hope.

And now, she had overheard the Master’s wife whispering to the house servants and husband.

"She’s too much trouble. Sell her to Pierre Leclair. He’ll tame her."

Pierre. The man who trafficked broken girls. Who turned slaves into playthings, stripping them of name and will before selling them to the highest bidder.

They would not tame her.

Instead, she would ignite a fire they could never extinguish.

The first explosion split the night. A brilliant bloom of gold and red burst overhead, followed by another, then another. Gasps and startled cries rose from the slave quarters—first in fear, then in awe.

Laughter. Real laughter.

Children clapped their hands, eyes wide with wonder. Even the elders, weary and bent from years of toil, lifted their faces to the heavens.

For the first time in years, the plantation was not a place of silence and suffering. It was alive.

The hounds barked louder. The overseers shouted. Boots thundered toward her.

Azaria ran.

Through the tall grass, over gnarled roots, her lungs burned, her muscles screamed, but she didn’t stop. She ran as fireworks roared above her, their colors defying the dark, painting the sky with light and fury.

A second chance.

For them.

Then the shot rang out.

A fiery lance of pain tore through her shoulder, spinning her sideways. The ground rushed up to meet her, dirt and blood filling her mouth. Paws crashed against her ribs. Teeth and claws tore at her limbs. The yells of men blurred into distant echoes as darkness swallowed her whole.

Yet, through the haze of pain, she smiled up at the Moon, at the sky filled with fire and color.

She had given them light in the darkness.

She had given them hope.

And the Moon, watching, listening, answered.

The first breath of silver light touched her skin.

The pain dulled.

The weight of her body lifted.

The world slowed, and she floated between the past and something unknown, something vast and endless.

A voice, neither cruel nor kind, drifted through the nothingness.

"You have given them a new beginning. Would you give them more?"

Azaria’s lips parted. Her body no longer ached, no longer bled.

The fireworks had not stopped.

The sky was still alive with light.

She had been willing to die for her people, to burn away into nothing if it meant they would taste freedom. But what if she could be more than a single night of defiance?

What if she could bring that light again and again, year after year, a reminder that hope was never lost?

Her fingers curled, though she no longer felt the earth beneath them.

Her answer was clear.

"Yes."

The darkness did not take her, instead, the light did.

⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️

Azaria drifted in the void, weightless, suspended between nothing and everything. Warmth flickered at the edges of her mind, silver light threading through the darkness like something just out of reach, a whisper, a memory she could almost hold.

Then came the cold.

A sharp breath wrenched her back, reality slamming into her like a sudden storm. The air was thick, damp with the scent of stone and something acrid, burned and bitter. Her body ached, but whether from present wounds or echoes of the past, she couldn’t tell. Her fingers curled against rough, uneven stone ground.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Faint, sickly light filtered through jagged cracks in the distance, illuminating the cavern around her in weak, uneven patches, shadows curling unnaturally at the edges of her vision.

She exhaled shakily and pushed herself up onto her elbows, her head pounding, limbs sluggish, the memory of her dream—no, her past—clinging to her even as it began to slip away.

Unlike Sandy and the others, who had woken with their pasts intact, she had awakened to nothing. No name. No story. No sense of who she had been before the Moon called her into existence.

Only fire. Only light. Only the knowledge that she was meant to bring it where there was darkness.

For a long time, she thought she was alone in that loss, the only one burdened with the weight of something missing. Then she met Jack.

Her fingers curled against the stone, breath unsteady.

Jack, who had woken up with nothing but the wind and the cold. Jack, who searched for answers no one could give him. Jack, who laughed in the face of his own pain but carried it all the same.

He was the only one who understood, but he had nothing to hold on to.

Or at least, that’s what she had always believed. But watching him go after that tooth box, completely shutting out both her and the Baby Teeth, Azaria couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been hiding just how much it truly bothered him all this time. She had never shared much of her past with Jack—not because she didn’t trust him, but because it was painful, and despite everything, she had always tried to focus on the light rather than the darkness. But a part of her had also held back because Jack had nothing, and she hadn’t wanted to remind him of that.

She at least had fragments, fleeting glimpses of a life just beyond her reach, memories that flickered like sparklers in a tornado. Jack had nothing at all.

They had never spoken of it, never put their grief into words. It was an unspoken burden, something they carried in silence. He never asked about the past that haunted her, and she never asked about the life he had been denied.

It was simply theirs to bear.

But now, for the first time, she remembered everything which terrified her.

Because if she could remember this, then why now? And what else had been taken from her?

A low sound slithered through the cavern, curling around her like unseen fingers, brushing against the bars that caged her. The walls pulsed with shadows that weren’t just dark but alive , shifting, watching.

Azaria exhaled, forcing herself upright despite the lingering ache in her body. The stone beneath her was cold, damp, a stark contrast to the fire still simmering deep inside her. Weak but not extinguished.

She was not alone.

A slow, deliberate clapping cut through the silence.

“Oh, finally,” came a voice, smooth and amused, dripping with the kind of satisfaction that made her teeth clench. “I was beginning to think you’d sleep through the fun.”

Azaria turned her head as Pitch Black stepped forward from the swirling dark, moving with effortless grace, golden eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. He barely looked at her at first, his attention flicking to the cage, to the way the shadows pulsed along the bars.

He hummed, a pleased sound. “Ah, yes. It works beautifully.” He turned his gaze on her then, head tilting slightly. “Do you like it? I designed it especially for you.”

Azaria arched a brow, crossing her arms despite the stiffness in her limbs. “Can’t say I’m a fan of the decor. Bit cliché, don’t you think? Shadows? Chains? I expected something more creative.”

Pitch smirked, stepping closer. “I suppose you would. You always did have an eye for spectacle, didn’t you? Fireworks in the night sky. Explosions in the streets. Very dramatic.”

Azaria leaned against the bars, feigning a thoughtful look. “Well, you know, some of us actually like to put on a good show. You wouldn’t understand.”

His smirk didn’t falter, but the shadows at his feet coiled just a little tighter. “Oh, I understand more than you think. You see, that’s exactly the problem. You don’t need to be seen to be felt. Even locked away, even forgotten, you bring hope.” His expression darkened slightly, though the amusement never quite left his eyes. “It’s… inconvenient.”

She scoffed. “Aw, did I mess up your big scary plan?”

Pitch sighed, tilting his head. “I wasn’t expecting you to get involved with the Guardians, I’ll admit. That was… unfortunate.” He stepped back, tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin. “But not entirely without its uses.”

Azaria’s smirk faltered for just a second, but she recovered quickly. “Oh, let me guess, you plan to keep me locked up in here forever? Hope that the world just forgets I exist?” She shrugged, flashing a grin. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s not how it works. People want to believe in new beginnings. You can’t stop them.”

Pitch chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, Azaria. You really don’t understand, do you?” He gestured toward the bars, his fingers gliding over them like a pianist over keys. The shadows rippled in response, a slow, hungry movement. “This isn’t just a cage.” His voice dropped, turning almost pleasant. “It takes. ”

Azaria frowned, unwilling to let the unease creeping up her spine show on her face.

Pitch smiled, sharp and knowing. “Your magic, your strength, that spark inside of you? This place will drain it, little by little, until there’s nothing left. Not even an ember.” His fingers curled slightly, and the shadows flinched inward for just a second, pulling at her skin like a whisper of cold air. “No light. No warmth. Just emptiness. ”

For the first time since waking, real fear pricked at the edges of her thoughts.

Pitch took a step back, clasping his hands behind him as though he had already lost interest. “I have plans for you, Azaria. And soon, you’ll understand just how important you really are.” He started to turn, then paused, casting her one last glance. “Try not to fade too quickly. That would be… disappointing.”

With that, the shadows swallowed him whole.

Azaria exhaled slowly, staring at the space where he had stood.

She wasn’t going to sit around and wait to find out what “fade” meant.

Azaria rolled her shoulders, testing the stiffness in her muscles, ignoring the dull throb in her skull. Pitch had said this cage would drain her magic, but she had never been one to take a villain at his word. She flexed her fingers, willing heat into her palms, feeling the familiar flicker of power spark beneath her skin.

She could still feel it—her fire, her light. Dimmed but not gone.

Her gaze flicked downward.

Her meteor hammer was missing.

That made her stomach tighten. She had carried that weapon for centuries, its weight as familiar to her as her own heartbeat. The loss of it sent a rush of unease through her, but she shoved it down. She wasn’t completely defenseless.

Reaching inside her coat, her fingers brushed against something soft.

Her powder and charms pouch.

She exhaled slowly.

Pitch must have assumed it was insignificant, or maybe he hadn’t noticed it at all. Either way, that was his mistake. She still had something to work with.

Azaria took a step back, rolling a fine dust of red powder between her fingers before clapping her hands together, sending up a shimmering ember of fire and light. The bars of the cage pulsed in warning, but she didn’t stop.

She inhaled, focusing, summoning the full force of her magic into her palms. Then she struck, conjuring up and firing off three rounds of single shot mortars towards the bars. 

The impact was instant as a violent shockwave of dark energy exploded outward, slamming into her chest and sending her flying backward. The breath tore from her lungs as she hit the other side of the cage with a force that rattled her bones, her vision flashing white from the impact.

Her limbs felt sluggish, heavy, her power felt like it was being bled from her body into the air around her, siphoned into the very thing holding her captive.

"Man, this some bullshit." She gasped, pressing a hand against the stone floor as the dizziness threatened to pull her under.

The bastard hadn’t been lying, the cage really did take from her and it hurt like a son of a bitch .

Azaria let her head rest against the cold rock, swallowing back the nausea clawing at her throat. Her body felt wrung out, exhausted from a single burst of power. It wasn’t like her. She had fought battles, survived worse. But this place, this cursed prison, wasn’t letting her fight back.

A bitter laugh slipped from her lips, quiet and humorless. So what now? Sit here and wait for Pitch to come back and poke at her like some experiment? No way in hell.

Azaria’s body still throbbed from the force of the cage’s rejection, her limbs sluggish, her breath slow as she tried to regain her strength. Every pulse of the bars stole from her, siphoning her energy like a leech. She couldn’t push too hard, not yet. So she let herself sink against the cold floor, the ache in her bones a reminder that she was still here, still fighting.

Still alive.

Her thoughts drifted, pulling her away from the suffocating dark, away from Pitch’s twisted words and the quiet threat of what he had planned. If she focused on that, she’d unravel. Instead, she let her mind wander somewhere warmer.

North.

Not just the leader, not the guardian, but him.

She thought of the way his smile started slow, tugging at the corner of his mouth before spreading wide, bright and full of life, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He smiled so much. She had never known someone who carried that much joy in his body, who let it fill the spaces around him like it belonged there. Because it did.

She thought of the sound of his laughter, deep and rich, shaking the room when the elves inevitably caused some catastrophe in his workshop. The way he’d shake his head, hands on his hips, grumbling in Russian before turning to her with a twinkle in his eyes, always amused, never angry. He didn’t take from them, didn’t demand silence or order—he let them be, let them live. Just like he had let her live, let her carve out her own place among the Guardians without trying to change her.

The Yetis. The elves. Her Emberlings.

She had been sure North would keep them out of his workshop, separate them like something rare and unpredictable, but he hadn’t. He had let them roam freely, let them curl up in the forge with Phil, let them chase after the elves, let them belong. She hadn’t even asked. He had just… done it.

That had shifted something in her, something deep.

Azaria exhaled, tilting her head back against the cold stone, eyes fluttering shut. She had spent so long moving, fighting, running toward the next battle, the next problem, the next thing that needed her. But in North’s world, she had found something she hadn’t expected.

Stillness.

She liked sitting in North’s office, drink in hand, listening to him ramble about some old Russian folktale, his accent thick, his voice warm. She liked sneaking extra peppermint into his hot chocolate just to see him hum in satisfaction before realizing what she’d done. She liked the way he interacted not just as a potential Guardian, not just as a spirit, but as Azaria .

And she liked the way he touched her.

North was never hesitant, never uncertain, but he wasn’t reckless either. He handled her like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he had studied every glance, every breath, every tiny reaction and committed them to memory. He had taken his time, savoring the way she melted beneath his hands, drinking in the sharp inhales, the way she arched when his fingers traced slow, deliberate paths across her skin. His touches had been rough, teasing, but there was something deeper beneath it. It almost reminded her of reverence, a kind of restrained hunger that made her shiver even now just thinking about it.

He hadn’t just wanted her, North had devoured her.

And she had let him, had given herself over to the sensation, to the way his voice had dropped to a low, satisfied rumble every time she trembled under him. She had felt his pleasure in the way his hands flexed against her body, the way his grip tightened when she responded just right. He had explored her reactions like a craftsman testing the edge of his blade, precise and knowing, confident in every movement.

He had enjoyed every second of unraveling her and she had loved every second of being unraveled. She wanted more.

Not just of his hands, of his heat, of the way he could set her body alight with just a look. She wanted all of it, his laughter, his stories, the way he was . Azaria wanted more nights in his office, the quiet moments by the fire, the teasing looks and warm smiles that lingered longer than they should.

She had spent so much of her existence pretending she didn’t need this, that she didn’t want it. But now, with her body aching from the prison’s magic, her strength draining, and her mind reaching for something warm to cling to, she knew the truth.

She wasn’t going to hesitate anymore.

The moment she got out of this, the moment she was back where she belonged, she was going to take what she wanted.

And what she wanted was North and to become a Guardian, to truly embrace having the others around. 

For years, she had convinced herself that she didn’t need more, that she wasn’t the kind of person who got more. 

The others had centuries, eons of history together. She had herself. Topper and Flicker, they were embodiments of her in a way and couldn’t provide the help she needed in the face of the ticking clock that never seemed to stop moving forward, always demanding more. 

New Year's was a time of renewal, of reflection, of change . And that meant her role was never stagnant. People wanted hope. People wanted to celebrate . But people also wanted destruction. They wanted recklessness and she knew it too well.

There were times, bad times, where she hadn't been attentive enough. When she let the exhaustion pull her under, when she couldn't muster the energy to monitor every spark, every flickering ember that her creations birthed into the world. And it had cost people. Badly.

Fires that could’ve been prevented. Stupid, reckless displays that turned deadly. Buildings burned, limbs lost, families mourning the worst kind of new beginnings. And the Emberlings? They mirrored her, always. When she slacked, they suffered. Their flames flickered erratically, unsure, unfocused. When she spiraled, so did they.

And she had spiraled. More than once.

The weight of it sat in the pit of her stomach, gnawing at the edges of her mind. She’d always been scatterbrained—her mind jumping from thought to thought like sparks on dry wood—but there were moments where she just shut down . Where the weight of everything, the expectations, the failures, the past , crushed her so completely that she couldn’t function. 

Instead, she filled the silence with mischief, spent her time pulling Jack into reckless plans, stealing quiet moments with Sandy, playing with Topper and Flicker like they were her own. But all that time, she had been holding back , keeping herself at a distance, afraid of wanting something she thought she could never have.

No more pretending.

She was going to get out of this. She was going to go back and she refused to waste another second.

Because after everything, after all she had been through in her past and current life, she deserved to take what she wanted, to enjoy what was hers.

“I’m going to get out of this cage,” she reassured herself, willing herself to stand. Her arms shook as she pressed her palms against the ground, forcing herself upright. Her muscles ached from the force of her last attempt, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t done .

The cage had thrown her back when she tried using brute force. Fine. She would think her way out of this. She still had her powder, her charms. Maybe she could channel her magic into something subtle , something that wouldn’t trigger the cage’s defenses all at once.

She took a shaky breath, rolling a bit of blue powder between her fingertips, muttering under her breath as she spread it along the bars in careful, deliberate strokes. Focus. Don’t push. Just... guide.

A faint shimmer passed over the bars and something in the shadows hesitated .

Then—

A burst of cold air blasted through the cavern.

Azaria froze as a blur of white and blue shot across the room, darting past the other cages where tiny, flickering lights bobbed frantically.

‘Jack, ’ she thought with a sense of relief and anger. 

She barely had time to react before Baby Tooth zipped past him, chirping rapidly, leading him toward the trapped fairies. Jack skidded to a stop, sweeping his staff across the bars. The ice crackled instantly, weakening the shadows just enough for the tiny creatures to slip free.

One of them turned, frantic, pointing.

Jack followed the movement and his eyes landed on her.

For a second, he just stared.

Then he swore, "Holy shit. Azaria!"

His voice was tight, breathless. He launched himself toward her, ice already coating his hands, reaching for the bars.

Azaria, feeling petty , let her body go slack and slumped forward, playing up the exhaustion.

Jack cursed under his breath. "Oh, come on. Hold on, I got you."

With a single swipe of his staff, the ice cut through the weakened bars, shattering them apart. The second they gave way, Azaria moved, snapping upright and lunging forward and slapped him.

Jack yelled, stumbling back, clutching his face which now had a bright handprint on his cheek. “What the—OW—Hey! Ouch, what was that for?!”

“Boy I oughta show you to the pearly gates!” Azaria seethed, eyes blazing despite her unsteady stance. "You left me, Jack!"

"I—what?"

"You left me!" she shouted, her voice shaking. “You didn’t even try to fight! You just—” she swallowed, her throat tight, “you just let him take me and you ain’t even look back.”

Jack’s face twisted with guilt, his hand still pressed against his cheek. "Azaria, I didn’t mean to. I swear, I—” He let out a breath, shaking his head. “Pitch got in my head. I don’t know how, but he did. I thought I was making things better, I thought that…” His voice broke, and he squeezed his eyes shut before forcing himself to meet hers. “I was wrong.”

Azaria studied him for a long moment, her pulse still racing, but the anger in her chest had already begun to cool. Jack had that look, the one she had seen before—the one that meant he hated himself more than she ever could.

She exhaled, rubbing a hand over her face. "You're damn right you were."

Jack gave her a wary, sheepish look. “So… we good?”

Azaria rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. "Help me get the hell on outta here and we’ll see."

Jack grinned despite himself, wrapping an arm around her waist as they started toward the exit, both limping but moving.

They had barely made it out of the tunnels when Baby Tooth let out a frantic chirp, zooming toward Jack’s face and pointing straight at the Pitch’s grey and rotting Globe . 

Jack’s stomach twisted as he saw the last dot was flickering, barely holding on.

Azaria saw it too, her grip on his arm tightening. “Jack…”

“Jamie,” Jack replied. The last light.

Jack tightened his grip on Azaria, his gaze locked onto the last flickering light on the Globe. His chest constricted.

Jamie.

They were running out of time.

Azaria swallowed hard, her fingers pressing into his sleeve. “You need to go. Now.”

Jack turned to Baby Tooth, who hovered anxiously, her tiny wings buzzing so fast she was practically vibrating. “Stay with the others,” he instructed, voice firm despite the adrenaline pounding in his veins. “Let them know we’re going to Jamie. If Pitch shows up, stall him. ”

Baby Tooth chirped urgently, reluctant to leave.

Azaria exhaled sharply. “Go, B. We’ll handle this.”

The tiny fairy hesitated for only a second longer before nodding and zipping away, disappearing into the wind.

Jack turned back to Azaria. She was still too weak, her body barely holding itself together after Jack crouched. “Alright, up you go.”

“Wait—”

Too late. He hoisted her onto his back. Azaria let out a startled grunt, too drained to fight it. Her arms barely had the strength to grip him properly, her legs like dead weight over his shoulders.

“Jack,” she muttered against his shoulder, “if you drop me, I swear—”

“You’ll haunt me, I know,” Jack finished, grinning. “Relax, Sparky. I got you.”

With a powerful gust of wind beneath him, he shot into the sky, the cold air whipping past them as he pushed himself as fast as he could. The town blurred beneath them, streetlights glowing dimly against the quiet night. The closer they got to Jamie’s house, the heavier the weight in Jack’s chest became.

He landed as softly as he could in Jamie’s front yard, crouching to set Azaria down against the wall of the house. She winced but waved him off before he could say anything.

“Go,” she said, voice quieter now, but still firm. “I’ll be fine. Just... get to him. ”

Jack hesitated. She was pale, drained, and still looked like she could collapse at any second. But they were out of time.

He exhaled sharply. “Stay put.”

Azaria snorted, leaning her head back against the siding. “Yeah, not planning on running a marathon, Frostbite.”

Jack rolled his eyes before pushing off the ground and soaring up to Jamie’s window.

His stomach dropped.

Inside, Jamie sat curled up in bed, staring at the ceiling. The light in his eyes was dim, his expression hollow.

A familiar doubt flickered across his face, one Jack had seen in himself over the years. 

Jack pressed his hand to the glass, watching from the window as Jamie sat on his bed, the stuffed rabbit slipping from his grasp, hitting the floor with a soft thud. The boy stared ahead, his small shoulders slumped, his face empty of wonder. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do.

The weight of it pressed down on his chest, something desperate clawing at the edges of his mind. He had felt this before, this helplessness, this ache. But this time, he wasn’t alone.

Jack inhaled sharply, concentrating. He reached out, and the window frosted over beneath his touch, a delicate web of ice crawling across the glass. He thought of Bunny, of Easter, of the belief that had just been ripped away. His fingers traced a shape, and the ice responded, forming a perfect outline of an Easter egg.

Jamie stirred, eyes flicking toward the window.

“Huh?”

Jack watched as the boy’s gaze drifted downward, landing on the stuffed rabbit at his feet. A spark of curiosity crossed Jamie’s face, but it wasn’t enough.

Jack gritted his teeth and pushed harder, the frost spreading, swirling into more shapes. A rabbit. The ears, the strong legs, the playful tilt of its head.

Jamie’s eyes widened,“He’s real.”

Jack’s heart kicked against his ribs.

The ice rabbit suddenly leapt off the windowpane, bounding into the air before bursting like a snowball over Jamie’s head. Snowflakes drifted down, catching in his hair, melting against his skin.

“Whoa…” Jamie whispered, eyes glowing with amazement.

Jack held his breath, barely daring to move as he watched the wonder creep back into Jamie’s face. It was working.

But then Jamie’s brows furrowed slightly, his lips parting as a single snowflake landed on the tip of his nose. It shimmered, glowing faintly blue, and something clicked into place in his mind.

“Snow?” he murmured.

Jack could almost see the idea forming, the way the realization unfolded like a spark catching fire.

Then, softer,” Jack Frost?”

Jack’s breath caught as he froze in disbelief. “Did he just say—?” he whispered, barely believing what he had heard.

Jamie stood up on his bed, his voice stronger this time. “Jack Frost.”

Jack staggered back, Jamie had said it. He just said my name.

Heart pounding, his hands shaking as Jamie turned, looking right at him, his expression one of certainty.

“Jack Frost.”

Jack stared, almost afraid to breathe. “That’s right,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “But—but that’s me —Jack Frost! That’s my name! You said my name!”

Jamie’s mouth fell open.

“Wait.” Jack’s voice wavered. He swallowed hard. “Can you… Can you hear me?”

Jamie nodded.

“Can you…” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Can you see me?”

Jamie nodded again.

Jack let out a shaky, disbelieving laugh, stumbling back a step. “He sees me. He sees me!”

Something inside him broke open , something vast and overwhelming and good . He laughed again, full and unrestrained, and the room exploded with snow.

Jamie gasped, holding out his hands as the flurry surrounded him. “You just made it snow!”

Jack grinned. “I know!”

“In my room !”

“I know !”

Jamie’s face was practically glowing now. “You’re real?”

Jack’s chest ached with how much he wanted to say yes, how much he had always wanted to say yes.

“Yeah,” he breathed. Then, smirking, he added, “Who do you think brings you all the blizzards and snow days? And you remember when you went flying on that sled the other day?”

Jamie’s jaw dropped. “That was you ?”

Jack’s grin widened. “That was me !”

“Cool!” 

“Right?!”

Jamie was still bouncing on his bed when he suddenly paused, tilting his head. “Wait, what about the Easter Bunny? And the Tooth Fairy?”

Jack laughed, throwing his hands up. “Real, real, real! Every single one of us is real!”

He beamed, but Jack wasn’t done. His expression softened as he thought of her.

“And Azaria,” he added. “She’s real too.”

Jamie blinked. “Azaria?”

Jack nodded. “New Year’s Eve,” he explained. “She’s the one who makes the fireworks light up the sky. She’s the reason sparklers don’t burn your fingers when you hold ‘em, the reason firecrackers don’t go off in your face. “And the fireworks?” Jack continued, his voice quieter now, filled with something almost reverent. “She makes new ones every year. She comes up with the coolest designs, stuff nobody’s ever seen before.She’s the one who keeps you safe when you’re celebrating.”

Jamie’s eyes grew even wider, eyes filled with wonder. “Woah! I didn’t even think of that!” 

Jamie barely had time to process what was happening before a voice drifted from down the hall.

"Jamie? Who are you talking to?"

He froze.

Jack winced, already anticipating how this was going to sound.

Jamie swallowed hard, shifting slightly on his bed. "Um... Jack Frost."

Silence.

A little chuckle. "Okay," his mom said, the word drawn out with that bemused, half-amused tone only parents could manage when indulging their kids' imaginations.

Jack sighed. "Welp, that could’ve gone worse."

But before Jamie could respond, a low, distant rumble shook the air.

It wasn’t thunder.

Jack’s stomach flipped as the deep, unmistakable roar of North’s sleigh cut through the night.

Jamie’s eyes widened, snapping to the open window, and Jack barely had time to shoot him a grin before launching himself outside.

The wind caught him immediately, and he twisted mid-air, landing lightly in the yard below. He turned just in time to see the enormous shadow of the sleigh sweeping overhead, the bells jangling as the reindeer pulled it into a wide turn.

Jack grinned. “Now that’s good timing.”

Then his gaze snapped downward to check on Azaria. 

She was exactly where he had left her, still slumped against the wall of the house, but she wasn’t just waiting. She was trying to force herself to stand, one hand braced against the siding, the other pressing against her ribs. Her jaw was tight, her body trembling from sheer exhaustion, but she was moving.

Jack’s chest ached at the sight.

"Okay, okay, easy," he said, rushing to her side before she could fall over. "I get it, you’re stubborn, but how about we don’t pass out on the front lawn?"

Azaria huffed, her breath shaky but amused. “You say that like I got much of a choice.”

Jack slid an arm around her waist, supporting her as she leaned into him. "You do have a choice," he teased. "You could just let me carry you again."

Azaria gave him a deadpan look. "Jack, if you even try to throw me over your shoulder, I swear to the Moon—"

Jack snorted. "Alright, alright, no kidnapping the nearly unconscious fire spirit. Got it."

She muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "damn right," but she didn’t argue as he helped her forward, both of them limping toward the clearing where the sleigh was descending.

The second the runners touched the ground, the Yetis barely had time to move before North was already moving fast, too fast for a man his size and lack of magic. The air crackled, thick with something almost electric, the lingering chill of his magic colliding with the embers still clinging to Azaria’s skin. 

The tension in his broad frame melted the second he saw her, but his gaze flicked over her, scanning for injuries, assessing her condition in a single, practiced sweep. Anger flaring when he saw how she struggled to hold herself up. Azaria barely had time to react before North closed the distance between them.

North didn’t hesitate or ask. He just scooped her up from Jack’s grasp, ignoring the urge to bare his teeth at the boy for having his hands on her. Instead, he lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and held her to his chest. 

Azaria let out a startled breath, instinctively grabbing onto him. "North!"

He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening. " I have you, " he murmured, low and fierce, more to himself than anyone else.

Azaria stilled.

For a moment, she just looked at him, the storm in his eyes, the quiet fury still simmering beneath the surface. Not at her, but at what had happened. At Pitch. At himself.

She swallowed hard.

"Yeah," she murmured, finally relaxing in his hold, her fingers curling into the fabric of his coat. She let her forehead rest against his shoulder as she hugged him back, the warmth of him seeping into her, grounding her. "You do."

North’s arms tightened around her, just for a moment, as if making sure she was really there.

The Yetis finally stirred from their tense stillness. Randy let out a low, rumbling sigh, his broad shoulders sagging, while Jeff and the others exchanged glances, the tension that had weighed them all down finally beginning to lift.

Then without warning one of the elves let out a high-pitched squeak and launched itself at Azaria, latching onto her arm with surprising force.

Another followed. Then a third.

Azaria blinked as the tiny creatures clung to her, murmuring in their incomprehensible little voices. She huffed, smirking despite herself. "Okay, okay, chill! Damn, y’all missed me that much?"

North huffed a quiet chuckle, the sound deep and almost inhumane. He adjusted his grip on Azaria, pressing his forehead briefly to hers before pulling back just enough to look at her.

"Do not scare me like that again, kotenok ," he muttered, voice gruff but not unkind.

Azaria smirked, though exhaustion dulled the usual sharpness of it. "No promises."

Tooth, watching in silence, felt something settle deep in her chest. She had never seen North like this before—so passionate, so raw, so open.

For the first time in what felt like forever, North inhaled fully, deeply—like a man breaking the surface after nearly drowning.

The weight in his chest loosened, but the storm within him did not still completely. It would not, not until Pitch paid.

It sat there, waiting, coiled beneath the surface like a beast that had been starved too long. Azaria was now safe in their hands but Pitch had made a mistake. One that would cost him direly.

North exhaled slowly, his grip still firm around Azaria, but his expression darkened just slightly, fierce and unrelenting anger flickering beneath the relief. The monster inside him still prowled, still craved punishment.

Pitch had taken from him. Taken from her. 

It could not and would not go unanswered.

Azaria, resting against his chest, felt the shift in him. Though she was drained, her lips curled, something equally dark gleaming in her tired eyes.

“When I see him,” she murmured, voice rough but certain, “I’m tearing that bastard a new asshole.”

North’s smirk was slow, dangerous. “Da, kotenok.” His voice rumbled low, something ancient, primal, woven beneath the words. “It is time Pitch learns fear again.”

The Yetis exchanged glances. The elves stilled. Even the wind seemed to hush.

There was still a fight ahead. Pitch was still out there, probably pissed. But now, for the first time since Azaria was taken, North smiled.