Hello readers! I'd like you all to know that this is the rewrite of my story, which took my about two months. The plot has changed dramatically, for the better.

I realized I'd have to have Jack and Elsa popping out the 'thees' and 'thous', so I scrapped it. Everyone speaks modern English. It's not like it's the first time I've messed with time period rules. After all, Elsa lives in 1839, and I just bumped Rise of the Guardians back a few centuries. Meh. Whatever.

I love you all, and I love, love, love reviews, especially when you guess what's coming next.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Jack Frost's Christmas Eve

Some people say the season of summer is imagery for life, while winter represents death. But in the end, what does it matter? Death is death, not poetry, and each of us dies at the end of our time here on earth, by God's will.

It is what comes after death that matters more.

This is a story of one who was dead and became alive, and one life that became death.

December 24, 1839.

The little town of Burgess was buried in snow, the streets slick, and fat flakes drifted down to collect on the ground, on the roofs, and the hair and eyelashes on the people in the streets.

Dusk was falling, and the lamps and Christmas candles were being lit.

Just outside of town, the frozen lake shimmered like a sheet of glass, and the air was filled with shouts, catcalls, and the sound of skates scraping on the ice.

A group of children were enjoying the sudden cold snap after a rather wet, miserable winter. A few boys were playing tag, slipping and sliding about, as their female friends linked arms and skated in rows, giggling and falling over.

A child was run over, and had to be soothed, and then the culprit got a snow rub. Eyes watered, noses ran, cheeks were pink, and breath fogged, but the delight in the air was palatable.

Unknown to the carefree skaters, someone was watching them from above.

The someone was draped up high in a gnarled oak, legs swinging. He looked like any other teenaged boy, until you noticed his snow-white mop of hair and the fact that his feet were bare. He was also rather tall and thin, with brown pants tied up around his ankles with leather straps, a blue hoodie with a pattern of frost fractals around the shoulders, and he was holding a long stick with a hook on one end.

His pale expression held nothing but mischief, shockingly blue eyes sparkling like the lake below.

What was he there for?

This was his life.

One of the little boys on the lake slipped and fell down, hard, immediately bursting into tears. The boy up in the tree scooped up a handful of snow and packed it into a snowball, then he blew on it gently.

The snowball glowed blue, then began to sparkle like magic. He squinted and threw it with deadly accuracy at the lake, and it smashed into the crying boy's back. The little boy pushed away the children trying to help him up and glanced around.

"Who threw that?" he laughed, tears forgotten, and began to throw snowballs at the other skaters.

"Works every time," the watcher in the tree grinned.

He watched as the skating party turned into a free-for-all snow fight.

Then, the teenagers arrived from Burgess to collect their siblings. Shoes and boots replaced skates, wet mittens and hats and soggy schoolbags were found, and the lake cleared.

The last girl fumbled with her skates, and when she looked up in frustration, her eyes met the blue ones of the watcher in the tree, recognition sparking in them.

"Greta, look! It's Jack Frost!"

The older girl glanced up briefly, then leaned down to help her sister. "Jack Frost is just a story, Lina. I thought momma told you that."

"But he's right there! Just look!"

"Enough. Maybe you shouldn't hang around with Jamie Bennett anymore, if you actually believe all that stuff he tells you."

Jack Frost—for that is who he was—sat up on his tree branch, eyes wide in interest. Jamie?

"Greta, don't talk about Jamie like that. He's my friend."

"Come along, Lina. Supper's ready."

Lina stuck her tongue out at her sister's back and gave Jack a cheeky, freckled grin before trotting off after the older girl.

Jack hefted his staff and floated gently down onto the icy lake, watching everyone trudge back to Burgess.

It had been a while since he'd gone to see Jamie, the first kid who'd ever believed in him. He'd stood on this very lake in March after the battle with Pitch and swore his Guardian oath in front of the boy and his friends.

He turned to look at the red light of the setting sun, and smiled. I have time. "I'll drop by there now, and wish him a Merry Christmas."

He hopped into the air and called on the wind, sailing between chimneys and roofs to alight a moment later on a windowsill outside a boy's room, where he rapped lightly on the glass.

An excited face appeared on the other side, and the window was pushed open. "Jack!"

The Spirit of Winter laughed and clambered down into the room, where Jamie caught him around the waist in a tight hug.

Hug? It had been a long time since anyone had touched Jack, and even longer before that. He tried to steady his breathing, and put his arms around the boy. "Hey, Jamie. How's it going?"

Jamie grinned up at him. "Totally great! Look, I lost another tooth!" he showed Jack the gap proudly. "And the Tooth Fairy gave me a prize for it! I was going to stay up to see her again, but I accidentally fell asleep."

Jack laughed.

"And it's Christmas tomorrow!" Jamie rattled on, his face glowing. "That means Santa is coming!"

"It sure does, kid," Jack chuckled. "Hey, I can't stay, ok? I just came to say Merry Christmas."

"Thanks! Where are you going?"

"Heading to the North Pole to have Christmas dinner with the Guardians. Apparently it's an annual thing they do. This'll be my first time." He smiled a little. "I guess I'm a little nervous."

"Cool!" Jamie's eyes sparkled. "Do you get presents, too?"

The older boy laughed. He hadn't thought about that. "Well, it's Santa, so I guess that's a yes. What's Christmas without presents?"

He opened his hand and shot out a burst of snowflakes which showered down from the ceiling.

"You're the best, Jack!" Jamie sneezed on a flake and giggled. "Will you be back soon?"

Jack turned. "I hope so! I'll come back, I promise." He climbed back through the window.

"Bye, Jack!" Jamie waved as the Spirit of Winter caught the wind and took off into the dark, laughing.

He had a party to crash.

The North Pole was a huge fortress deep in the Arctic wilderness, tucked into the side of a mountain, and under perpetual winter. The main part of the Pole was the Workshop, built into the side of a cliff and surrounded by a small village where the Yetis lived. At the top of the Workshop's observatory-shaped roof, a very tall pole rose into the sky, the magnetic pole, which doubled as the generator of the Northern Lights.

The Workshop itself was a maze of passages in the mountainside, the deepest ones the storage of the Letters To Santa. The main area of the Workshop went up six stories to the roof, and beneath it, the Yetis's workroom and Santa's own workshop.

Countless times since he'd become an immortal, Jack Frost, the Spirit of Fun, had tried to break into the Pole, and each time he'd been thwarted by the vigilant Yetis.

Then, in March, the Easter Bunny had caught Jack and dumped him out in front of Santa Claus at the Pole. The wonders of the place were greater than he could've imagined.

Now, as Jack emerged from the misty Arctic air and saw the Pole below, glittering with lights, he had a sudden urge to do something unexpected.

A mental image flashed across his mind: himself casually strolling up into the main hall from the Workshop, staff over one shoulder, nonchalantly mentioning something about security updates flashed across his mind, and he was hooked.

He grinned that wicked grin that always made North tell him to smarten up, and swooped down to one of the only dark windows, perching on the ledge.

It was rash.

It was risky.

But the danger made it thrilling.

He wrapped his long fingers around the edge of the frame and concentrated for a moment, freezing the alarm mechanism inside.

Glancing about, he made a quick sliver of ice, with which he pried the window open. It swung outward without a sound, and Jack dropped his staff inside, following it into the dark room, and reaching back out to close the window.

He turned, and fell back against the glass in fright.

The room, dark a moment before, blazed with light, revealing boxes stacked floor to ceiling, and a trio of massive hairy white creatures, armed with spearguns and swords, blocking the door.

The Yetis.

Jack swore.

He put his hands in the air, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "Heh, heh, hey fellas! Hey, Phil, did you do something with your hair? It looks—eep!" he squeaked as the Yeti named Phil picked him up by the shoulders and growled.

"Ow! Hey, hey, uh, put me down, please!" Jack whimpered, his bare toes hovering a few feet off the ground.

Instead, however, Phil slung Jack over his shoulder, moving out of the storage room and out onto the catwalk above the main hall.

The teenager struggled. "Hey, wait! My staff! Let me go!"

The other two creatures followed Phil, one of them stopping to collect the staff off the floor.

Jack stopped struggling, resigned to his embarrassment.

The view from the catwalk was amazing. Far below, starting at the main hall of the Pole and reaching up to the roof, Santa's magnificent Belief Globe hung suspended on a pole. The globe was the size of a small house, and covered with tiny winking lights. Each light represented a child who believed in the Guardians.

The Yetis took one of Santa's lifts down to the main area, which was low-lit by round lights on strings, and smelled of cloves.

The huge fireplace was lit, crackling merrily, next to where a long conference table had been set up and groaned beneath the load of food. A Christmas tree with coloured lights filled the air with fresh pine scent.

Phil dropped Jack onto the wooden floor in front of the table, where the rest of the Guardians watched with no small amusement as he scrambled up and snatched his staff back.

They were an odd assortment of fairytale characters: the Tooth Fairy, with her green feathers and silver wings; the Sandman, round and gold and sleepy-eyed; the Easter Bunny, tall, pointed ears, warrior stripes; and St. Nicholas himself, big and Russian and jolly.

Next to these people, Jack Frost looked almost normal.

Almost.

The big man at the head of the table stood, chuckling. "Welcome, Jack! I should've expected you to pull tricks! You are Jack Frost, are you not? And the Naughty List record holder! But even after being invited to dinner at the North Pole, Jack Frost thinks he has to sneak inside. Well done, my boy." He clapped.

Jack hunched his shoulders. "Just testing the security around here, to make sure it's sound and all."

"Likely," the Easter Bunny drawled, amusement in his eyes.

"Have a seat, Jack," North boomed, "So we can get this party started."

Jack flopped down in the empty seat next to the Sandman and tried to relax, but he felt rather foolish.

He looked up and caught the Tooth Fairy gazing at him admiringly from across the table. He knew she and all her little fairies were obsessed with him and his 'perfect teeth', but the thought made him feel hollow inside.

North smiled round at them all. "It's been an important year for all of us," he announced. "We defeated the King of Nightmares, along with Newest Guardian, who also reminded us what we fight for, and why we are Guardians. All these years of working for children made us forget what it was to be with children. I propose a toast," he raised his glass, "to Jack Frost, for helping us go back to basics."

Everyone raised their glasses. "To Jack."

The person in question flushed and ducked his head, grinning.

"Now," the Russian continued, "I have a lot to do after dinner, so why don't we have presents first?"

He snapped his fingers, and two lines of small, triangle-shaped red elf-like creatures with pointed shoes and bells on their hats marched into the hall, each bearing a parcel wrapped in brown paper. They came to a halt next to the table, and the first one presented its gift to Santa.

He reached down and read the label. "Toothiana!" Soon the gifts were being passed round the table, and wrappings discarded.

Jack felt odd as he unwrapped the ones addressed to him. He hadn't had gifts for Christmas in over three hundred years. The only things he owned he kept with him: his staff and the tiny Russian nesting doll centre from North.

The only present he'd gotten since he'd died in the ice so long ago was his hoodie, which the Sandman had given him. An article of clothing he'd never seen another person wear.

He stared at the pile of goodies and thought about where he would bring them.

He thought about home.

North lived here, of course, along with his Yetis and elves. Tooth had her Tooth Palace, and all her fairies. Sandy's home was his Dreamsand Island, usually in the sky, and Jack knew Bunny's Burrow was somewhere in Australia.

Once, Jack's own home had been with his family, in Burgess, but now…

Where is my home? Where do I belong?

"Earth to Jack."

A snowflake settled onto Jack's nose, and he blew it off, looking up in annoyance at the other flakes that fell around him. Gathering himself under control, he grinned and turned to face North, who'd spoke. "Sorry, what was that?"

The big man grinned back. "I asked you what you wanted for Christmas!"

Jack stared at him. "Wait...what?"

"Don't tell me you didn't hear! I won't be fooled! Everyone wants something, Jack." Those blue eyes met Jack's over the steaming turkey, and he swallowed, hard.

He glanced around and saw each of his friends had already received something from North.

"What'll it be, my boy?"

What do I want?

There was nothing. No. He was perfectly happy. But he knew that was a lie.

There was something.

His breath caught as he realized the truth, and he broke eye contact with North, forcing a laugh.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "There's nothing I want. I have everything I need!"

The man gazed at him gravely. "Don't lie to me, Jack Frost. I can feel in my belly when someone wants something. Tell me."

Jack leapt up, face flushed. "No, all right? I have everything! I have you all, and the kids believe in me now, and we beat Pitch, and I found my centre! There is literally nothing else I could want!"

"Jack, calm down!"

Toothiana leaned forward. "Is it a toothache?"

"Will everyone please just leave me alone?" he grabbed his staff and backed away from the table. "You can't fix this, all right? I'm fine!"

And he spun around and launched himself into the air and was gone.