Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

April, 1777

Darkness. That's the first thing I remember. It was dark, and it was cold. And I was scared. But then...then I saw the moon. It was so big and it was so bright, and it seemed to chase the darkness away. And when it did...I wasn't scared anymore. Why I was there, and what I was meant to do - that I've never known. And a part of me wonders if I ever will. My name is Jack Frost -- how do I know that? The moon told me so. But that was all he ever told me.

And that was a long, long time ago.

Seventy-five years. That was how long Jack Frost had been alone in the world. The people couldn’t see him, animals avoided him, and the only thing that had ever interacted with him was a herd of half horse, half human creatures that he had encountered deep into the wilderness. A barrage of arrows was all he had gotten out of the things before they turned tail and ran deep into the trees. He hadn’t tried to follow them.

Without anyone to talk to, Jack took to the wind, exploring the vast world he inhabited. To his delight, there were people all over the world. Even if he couldn’t talk to them, and they couldn’t see him, he delighted in watching them going about their lives. Even more, he loved seeing the children laugh at the snow he brought with him, quickly abandoning their chores to go out and play games with their friends.

His favorite people to watch were the people of the village near the lake he had awoken from nearly a century prior. It wasn’t large by anyone’s standards, but Jack had always been drawn there for some reason. Even as his travels took him all over the world, he would inevitably return that tiny town and its lake. Sometimes, he even went there outside of winter. Summer was too hot for him, but on a particularly cool early spring or late fall day, he would come back, spreading beautiful, intricate frost instead of his usual ice and snow.

This was one of those times. It was early April, and the last snow had fallen nearly a month ago, but Jack couldn’t resist coming back to see the first blooms of the wildflowers. He was being careful, staying off the ground in large trees to avoid damaging the new shoots, but if he stayed in one place too long the leaves began to collect a small layer of ice. Jack usually left once that started, but right now it was night, and the blooms had curled up to preserve heat and wouldn’t be hurt by a little frost.

The last of the villagers had turned in for the night hours ago, and the moon in its silent glory had long since risen into the sky. On nights like this, he had taken to sitting in the highest boughs of trees, staring up at the luminous body that had breathed life into his lungs and then immediately abandoned him.

“Why? Why did you put me here? What’s am I? Who am I?” he asked, not expecting an answer but hopeful nonetheless. A minute passed, then two, but after five minutes Jack gave up, sighing and leaning back into the trunk.

“I don’t know why I even bother,” he muttered, looking away from the moon to gaze at the stars.

The night sky was far clearer here than in the continent across the sea, there smoke poured out of coal-fueled fires day and night, casting a thick smog over the sky. Here, the sky was clear. The sky was filled with twinkling stars, each bright and clear to the eye. There were places in the world where he could get an even better glimpse of the stars, where he could see the entirety of the Milky Way, but he contented himself with the view here.

Jack’s eyes traced the sky, picking out what few constellations he knew. He quickly saw Ursa Major, and after a little searching, located Leo and Hydra. He was in the middle of looking for Leo Minor when a something caught his eye.

A streak of light so unlike the stationary stars. A thin line of white, dividing the sky with its brightness.

“A shooting star,” Jack murmured, smiling just a bit. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but this one seemed a little…off.

It was low in the sky, the tail seemed to be thicker than usual, and it looked like it was hurtling towards the earth instead of flying across the sky. Confused, Jack pushed himself up, staring at the star. After a few moments, he could clearly see a bulbous head, and the color began to change from white to a faint reddish-orange.

That wasn’t a shooting star he realized. That was a meteor, and it was getting closer. It looked like it would touch down somewhere nearby.

By now it had fallen out of the stars, now it was in a free fall to earth.

Grinning, Jack grabbed his staff and launched off his perch, urging the wind to follow the meteor. He flew above the forest, trees blowing by so fast they blurred together in a giant green mass.

Laughing in exhilaration, Jack looked back up at the sky. It had fallen further, and now he could see the indistinct outline of the actual meteor.

Instead of a circular mass of rock, it was sleek, thin and seemed to have wings like a bird. It was also made of something that was very clearly not stone. If he didn’t know better he would have thought it was made of polished metal.

Jack slowed down just a tad as the object began to lose altitude, dropping a hundred feet above the treetops. The winter spirit nearly dropped his staff in surprise when three poles were lowered from the object, black dots with what looked like wheels attached to the end.

The meteor began to slow, to the point Jack could see that the meteor was, in fact, made of metal, and those were really wheels.

Gaping in amazement, Jack sped up, managing to catch up with the thing, keeping far enough away that the heat from burning up in the atmosphere didn’t hurt him. Slowly, he came in line with the front of the object.

To his amazement, there was what appeared to be a pane of dark tinted glass covering the front, behind which a humanoid figure was frantically doing something inside the meteor.

The nose-like tip dipped down, and it was then that Jack noticed the spider web of cracks along the glass. It was intact, but it looked like a good solid tap would cause it to shatter.

“Oh shit,” Jack said, pulling back on his speed. He might be nearly immortal, but if that broke and flew at him, he wouldn’t be walking away easily.

The craft quickly overtook him, but a sudden explosion of fire dropped its speed sharply. It veered right, changing its path towards a break in the trees several miles wide.

Jack recognized the area as having been razed to the ground by a forest fire several years previous. The undergrowth was thick but there was nothing large enough for it to collide with. The craft approached the field with the speed of a hawk in flight.

It managed to touch down a hundred yards from the treeline with a loud bang, kicking up great amounts of soil into the air. It plowed the earth, coming to a violent and unsteady stop. Jack gasped, marveling in both awe and terror at the destruction the crash wrought.

The clearing was destroyed, a trench a hundred feet long, twenty feet wide, and six feet deep was gouged into the ground and the entire area was covered with displaced soil. Being several hundred yards away and shielded by the wind, he hadn’t been hit, but after seeing the thing in action, he wasn’t sure he wanted to get any closer to the thing.

Now that it was on the ground, Jack could easily see what it was, the problem was he didn’t have a clue what he was looking at.

It was obviously made of metal, but it was bulkier than it looked from the air. The entire design reminded of an arrow head. The front was pointed, but the main portion was oval shaped before stretching out like wings towards the back. On the underbelly, almost hidden by dark soil, was a plate of metal that wasn’t as polished as the rest of the craft. Compared to the shiny silver that made up most of the body, the panel was a dull gray and wasn’t welded to the metal around it. In fact, it reminded Jack of raised bridges he had seen around Europe.

Curious, he slowly floated over, warily keeping an eye out for the figure he had seen within the craft. Jack stopped before he was actually made it all the way, landing and holding tightly to his staff in case whatever was inside wasn’t friendly. He walked the rest of the way, eyes on the plate. He assumed that that was how the being he had seen had gotten in, as nothing else he had seen even remotely resembled something that might be a door.

The winter spirit bit his lip as he passed under the overhanging metal, straining to hear any movement from within. Hearing nothing, he stepped forward, reaching up to press pale fingertips against the gray material. The panel came loose under his touch, and he could hear what sounded like a lock disengaging before it began to lower itself.

Jack stepped back, standing on his toes to get a look at what was inside. The creature wasn’t in view, but what he could see was very limited. A bare metal wall and door cut off the entryway from the rest of the craft, and there were metal ropes running up and down the walls on the left and right. The panel settled at his feet, acting as a ramp into the craft proper.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Jack yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to try to make himself heard to the person inside.

Once again, silence reigned.

Steeling his resolve, Jack stepped onto the metal gangplank, cautiously walking up. He listened for movement again, but hearing none, he looked around the entrance. Some of the metal ropes were sheathed in something that Jack had never seen before. It was a variety of bright colors, and when he leaned over to touch it, it had a texture, not unlike dried tree sap.

Curiosity piqued, Jack returned his attention to the door. There wasn’t a handle, but there was a panel that was exuding a dull blue glow. Confused, but without a better plan, Jack touched the screen. Jack yelped as the door suddenly slid into the wall. Freezing, he stared wide-eyed into the chamber that was revealed.

The creature was still nowhere to be seen, but the room was plenty strange on its own. Fourteen boxes about four feet wide and eight feet long filled the room, and the walls were covered in drawers containing who knows what.

Jack walked up to the nearest box, examining it curiously. The sides of the box were made of the same metal of the ship, but the domed cover was made of something that looked like black glass but wasn’t has hard and sounded much different when he tapped it. He decided to examine the other boxes and the drawers later, right now he wanted to find the person behind yet another set of doors.

Luckily for him, the door opened the same way the last one had, but this time, he was far more prepared for the sudden retraction of the door. Jack held his breath as he looked around the bridge.

A single chair was in the middle of the room, a panel of buttons and levers in front of it, some of which flashed as if there was a tiny flame within them. There were more of the metal ropes, and crates were scattered around the room, tied down with stretches of fabric.

“Hello? Anyone in here?” Jack said again. He wasn’t expecting a response, being invisible and all, but it helped his nerves too at least say something.

Creeping forward, Jack circled around the chair, trying to get a look at whoever was in it.

“Oh my Lord, what is that!” he yelled, struck dumb by what he saw.

Sitting in the chair, restrained by the same fabric that held the crates was a giant rabbit. At least, that was the closest description he could think of. It looked like it was over six feet tall, with long ears and the strangest coat he had ever seen on an animal. Rather than the usual colorings of browns, blacks, and tans one would expect from a mammal, it was colored like a bird of paradise he had seen in cages in various markets. Rich blues met with emerald green, creating a stark, alien looking creature.

Its eyes were closed, but its head was hanging limply and its neck was bent at an unnatural angle, it was obvious that whatever it was, it was dead.

Hesitantly, Jack approached it, reaching out to touch its pulse point. He couldn’t feel the rhythmic thumping that indicated life. Jack sighed, from relief or sadness he couldn’t tell.

The spirit turned back to the door, only for the sharp, cool blade of a knife to press itself into his neck. Jack froze.

Another rabbit creature stood before him, anger obvious on its face.

“Rae ouy oen fo shi imonnis?” it hissed.

“You can see me?” Jack asked, bewildered and more than a little scared.

“Eb ieqtu, gneiar,” it said.

“What? I can’t understand you!” Jack said, yelping as the sharp blade dug a little further into his neck.

“Ti tcnano rnseddtnau ouy, Anev,” another voice said.

The creature turned, keeping the knife against Jack’s throat.

“Oen tmonme, lte em ndif shotgimne,” the second voice called.

The first creature growled, but didn’t move.

Jack could hear metallic clanging in the next room. A moment later, the second being came into view.

Unlike his captor, Jack could get a good glimpse of this one. It was obviously the same species as the dead pilot, but it was smaller, and its coat was gray, and the vibrant colors so generously splashed on the dead creature were only beginning to make themselves known on this one. It must be an adolescent, he realized with a jolt.

“Tgo ti!” the newcomer cried, holding up a metal square with a screen of the same black box coverings.

The coverings, he realized, that had disappeared from two of the boxes, one of which was the one he touched. The creatures were in the boxes, and he had let them out.

The gray one touched a few buttons and the box lit up, illuminating the creature’s grinning face. “Hello? Can you understand me?” it said.

Jack’s eyes widened in surprise. “You speak English?” he asked, bewildered.

“No. I don’t speak your language, and neither does Neva there,” it said, “This device can translate for us, however.”

“How on earth can it do that?” Jack asked, “And why is it lit? Is there a fire inside it?”

The creature cocked its head, obviously confused.

“Oh no, we landed on some backwater planet that doesn’t even have electricity.”

Jack nearly jumped when the creature threatening him suddenly spoke, sounding more than a little irritated.

The second one grimaced. “It seems so. Still, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“What is electricity? And what do you mean ‘backwater planet’?”

The second creature ignored the first’s loud groan, answering Jack’s question. “Do you know of lightning?”

Jack nodded.

“That is electricity. It can be harnessed to create light without fire,” it explained.

“That’s amazing,” Jack said.

The creature smiled, “Yes it is, and that is the least of its abilities. As for how the translation functions, that is beyond me, though the archives on the ship may be able to answer that for you. Forgive my manners, we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. I am Stellan, and the doe there is Neva.”

“Uh, hi? I’m Jack. Jack Frost,” he said.

“It is nice to meet you, Jack Frost. Neva, could you let them go, I don’t think they’ll be a threat,” Stellan said.

“Fine,” Neva said, taking the knife from Jack’s neck and stepping back. Neva walked over to Stellan, fingering the knife and watching Jack warily.

“Who are you? Where are you from?” he asked, rubbing the small cut on his neck.

“We are members of a race called the Pooka,” Stellan said, “we are trying to escape the genocide of our species. A man formerly by the name of Kozmosis Pitchner is trying to wipe us out. We are from a planet that is very far from here, in another solar system.”

Jack sucked in a breath. “Like I said, I’m Jack, I’m a human, and I’ve never heard of this Kozmosis Pitchner.”

“I’m not surprised. Neva, the records show we have been in stasis for almost a quarter of a billion cycles. It’s quite possible that the fearlings have been stopped. Perhaps the survivors of Pitchner’s race were stranded on this planet and started civilization over again.”

“All the more reason not to trust them,” Neva said.

Stellan frowned. “It’s obvious that Jack here has never seen one of our kind before, we have to consider that their race is the only sentient species on this planet, and we can’t leave with the viewport broken like that. It would shatter under the pressure of take off and we would be sucked into space. We need their help, Jack’s help.”

Neva sighed. “Fine. Jack, is there a leader of your kind you can take us too? They could help us.”

Jack shook his head. “There are a lot of kings, but no one rules over the entire human species, only God does that.”

“And they’re still in the religion phase of development, just great,” Neva muttered.

Jack winced. “And I couldn’t take you to someone even if I wanted. All the great kings live across the ocean, and I can’t carry you there. And there's the small issue of my being invisible.”

The pooke gave him incredulous looks.

“Invisible? We can see you fine,” Stellan said.

“I know, you’re the first one to see me in seventy-five years,” Jack said, “I can’t explain it, I’m just invisible.”

“You’re an immortal then? You don’t look strong enough for that,” Neva said.

Stellan rolled his eyes. “Hot headed warriors. Can’t you sense their magic? They're clearly a powerful ice mage.”

“Fine, I guess. They’re still too scrawny for a proper immortal in my opinion.”

“Why do you keep calling me ‘they’? I’m male you know,” Jack said.

The two looked at each other. “Actually, we didn’t. But that is nice to know. Our race has the ability to switch between sexes, so it is our custom to address strangers with neutral pronouns. Neva is female, but I identify with both sexes, so I switch fairly often, so you may address me with male or female pronouns,” Stellan said.

Jack stared at Stellan, bewildered for what felt like the millionth time in the past ten minutes.

“Maybe we should stop overwhelming him with information,” Neva said.

“That might be best,” Stellan agreed. “Jack, there are ten other kits in this ship with us, all of them younger. Quite a few are very young, and we need a safe place to stay until we can contact others of our race. Will you help us? ”

“Of course. I know a few places. But this...thing will attract attention. Some of the people here aren’t very friendly, and they might hurt you and the others if they find you.”

“I’ll check out the engines. I don’t think they’re too damaged. This ship isn’t safe for space travel anymore, but we can store it somewhere out of the reach of the humans while we look for a place to set up a base,” Neva said.

“Alright, I’ll check on the others. We also need to bury Gemma. She needs to be laid to rest,” Stellan said.

Neva nodded and turned to Jack. “Thank you for this, Jack Frost. It appears we are in your debt.”

Jack shook his head. “No. It’s only right that I help you, you’ve got kids that need help, and I won’t let them get hurt.

Neva smirked. “Good answer, Jack Frost. We may make a decent immortal of you yet.”

Chapter Text

April, 1777

Luckily, Neva proclaimed the engines to be in working. Unluckily, neither of them knew how to fly the spaceship.

“I could try, it doesn’t look that complicated,” Stellan offered, walking over to the control panel.

Neva shook her head, “That’s not a good idea. Maybe if we could get the isopods out then you could take a test flight, but they’re bolted to the floor.”

“Why don’t you just get the others out of the isopods and then let him try?” Jack asked.

Both of the aliens shook their heads.

“We can’t. We don’t have enough supplies to feed the others, and we can’t get more if we have to babysit ten traumatized kits. Not to mention, we don’t have a base or anywhere for them to sleep,” Neva said.

Stellan frowned, “Wait, weren’t a few of them older? I thought I saw at least one other teenager when we were boarding. I thought it was you, but thinking back, you don’t have any red in your coat.”

Neva cocked her head. “I suppose there’s a chance they took a piloting course or two. No harm in checking I guess.”

Stellan grinned, “Great, I’ll go check to check which pod they got into.” She walked away, opening the door to the cargo bay and disappearing inside.

“This is officially the oddest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jack said.

“Yeah, this isn’t exactly normal for us either,” Neva said, “But if we’re lucky, one of our people will be able to track the ship’s distress beacon and come and get us.”

Jack nodded thoughtfully. “What will you do if…” He was cut off by a piercing shriek and the clang of something heavy being flung.

“I’d say Stellan found something,” Neva said.

A moment later, the door opened again, Stellan sprinting through.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked, confused.

Stellan shook her head, shaking lightly, “No, no I’m not.”

“What happened?” Neva asked, “Did something happen to the isopods?”

Stellan nodded, looking like she was going to be sick. “I guess when we were attacked the ship was more damaged more than we thought.”

Neva raised a brow and prompted for her to continue. “One of the isopods was damaged and the kit inside was hurt. They’re still in stasis, but it looks pretty bad.”

“Damn it,” Neva hissed, “We have too many problems right now, if their vitals are stable they’ll have to wait until we’ve settled down and have a safe place to help them.”

The other pooka nodded, “Yeah, right. Sorry if I startled you, I just really don’t like blood.”  

“Did you find whoever it was you were looking for?” Jack asked.

“Uh, no. I’ll go back and check. But a lot of these kits are pretty young. I mean, one of them is twenty four cycles old,” Stellan said.

“You’re kidding?” Neva asked, incredulous.

“Nope.”

“Great. We’re stranded on a lone, primitive planet with a broken ship, a dead pilot, no supplies, no place to go, ten kits in stasis, one of which dying, another that we can’t feed, and hostile natives. Could this get any worse?” she ranted.

“We’re alive,” Stellan said , “and that’s good enough for me. All of our other problems can be solved. I’m sure we can synthesize milk for the kit with the machines onboard, and there’s probably some medical equipment as well. We will be alright, Neva. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to find that teenager,” Stellan said, handing the translator to Jack and walking back into the cargo bay.

“What’s the issue with the kit? Why can’t you feed them?” Jack asked, confused.

Neva sighed. “I don’t know how your kind works, but when our young are born they can’t digest solid food. The mother produces a liquid called milk that the baby drinks until they develop teeth and can begin to eat soft foods,” she explained.

“Humans do the same thing,” Jack said, “but we use the milk of an animal called a goat when the mother dies and there’s not another woman to feed the baby. You could give them that instead.”

“Alright, maybe we if we can procure one of these ‘goats’ we can test its milk to see if it would be suitable for the baby.”

“Sounds good. I have a question for you though,” Jack said.

Neva raised a brow, motioning for him to continue. “Stellan said the baby was twenty four cycles old. Does that mean it’s a month old?”

She shook her head. “No. They have lived to see twenty four years on our homeworld. They’re actually at the youngest age they can safely be put in stasis, if they were actually a month old the chemicals would have killed them.”

Jack stared. “How is a twenty four year old a baby?” he asked.

The pooka frowned. “I don’t know how long your kind takes to mature, but for us, we don’t reach maturity until we’re eight hundred and sixty years old.”

Jack gaped, but before he could comment Stellan interrupted once again.

“Found them!” Stellan yelled, “the data on the pod says they are at least seven hundred cycles!”

“Great, let them out!” Neva yelled back.

Jack turned to watch, curious.

Stellan was standing at the foot of one of the closer pods, reading something off a glowing glass panel. She pressed a few buttons and they could hear a pop as the lock released. She grabbed it, pulling it up and looking down at the person inside.

They groaned and muttered something to Stellan. Stellan nodded and said something back.

A moment later, the pooka sat up, giving Jack and Neva their first glimpse of the stranger. They were a chestnut color, with highlights of ruby red running along their back.

“Why are all of you colored so brightly?” he muttered, “you look like someone dumped paint all over you.”

Neva laughed, “Just wait, once we reach adulthood our coats only get brighter.”

“Great.”

“Do you have any idea where we are?” the stranger asked, turning to Stellan.

Stellan shook her head. “No. We’re in the outer reaches of the galaxy, at the tip of the third arm on a planet called Earth , but I couldn’t tell you the quadrant or sector. The navigation didn’t seem too banged up though, so we should be able to get our precise location,” she said.

The stranger nodded. “That’s good.My name is Colm, Colm Sterent of Eith.”

“Well met, Colm Sterent of Eith. I am Stellan Rmen of Home World. The two in the bridge are Cadet Neva Theren of the Brotherhood and Jack Frost of Earth ,” Stellan said.

“I’ve never heard of a planet called Earth before,” Colm said.

“Yes, I believe we the first of our kind to reach this world. However, there is a native sentient species called humans. Jack is an ice mage, he has agreed to help us since our ship is currently unable to leave the atmosphere.”

Colm nodded and pushed themselves up, standing face to face Stellan. “So what’s our plan? Have you made contact with anyone yet?” they asked.

She shook her head. “No, not yet. But let's go to the bridge and discuss things there.”

Briefly nodding, the two turned towards Jack and Neva, quickly walking over to them.

“Alright, what’s happening?” Colm asked.

“Well, we have quite a few problems. First off, as you can see, our viewport is about to shatter. Second, our pilot and only adult died on impact, we put her body in one of the isopods but we’ll need to bury her at some point, preferably soon. Third, we have nine other kits aboard, and no adults. One of said kits is also a baby and we don’t have any way to feed her without her dam. Fourth, we don't have any supplies, and we don’t know what on this planet will be poisonous to us. We should have a machine to test that however. Fifth, the natives are extremely primitive. They have yet to discover electricity, and according to Jack, will probably try to kill us. He also said that there is a village not too far from here, so we’ll need to leave, preferably with the ship, as soon as possible. However, neither Stellan nor I know how to fly this thing,” Neva said.

Colm eyes were wide. “Wow, that’s… really bad. I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I grew up on a farm driving hover ships, so I might be able to piece together how to fly the ship, but it would take time.”

“That’s something we don’t have,” Jack said, “Dawn will break in about six hours, and people from the village might come to chop wood or something. We need to get you guys out of here quickly.”

The pooka collectively groaned.

“I’ll go check to see if there’s anyone else who might be able to fly,” Stellan said glumly.

Once she was gone Jack turned to the other two aliens. “Can I just say that every time one of you open your mouth I get even more confused than I was before?” Jack said, waving the translator to emphasize his point.

“Believe me, I’m just as confused as you are,” Colm said.

Neva nodded, “That makes three of us.”

Jack couldn’t help but sigh, staring at the device Stellan had given him. It was only a little bigger than his hands put together, and was made of a dull, lightweight metal. There was a small section of glowing glass set in the top, displaying strange marks that looked a little like letters.

“Hey, I might have found something!” Stellan yelled, catching everyone’s attention. “There’s someone here who’s a little younger than Colm. It’s not giving me an exact number, but it looks like they’re about fifty cycles younger.”

“Wake them up,” Neva instructed, “If they don’t know how to pilot we can just put them back in the pod and try to fly ourselves.”

Grunting in affirmation, Stellan repeated the process that had woken up Colm. When the top was removed, a silvery pooka sat up, rubbing their eyes and yawning tiredly. Stellan gestured to the bridge, and the new kit hopped down and walked back to the group.

They repeated introductions, and the stranger introduced himself as Hyacinth, a buck from the same planet as Stellan.

“I don’t suppose you know how to fly a spaceship?” Neva asked.

Hyacinth grinned, “I’m not licensed, but I was halfway through training when Pitchner attacked. As long as we don’t need to go into space I can get us where ever we need to be.”

“Finally!” Neva crowed.

Stellan laughed and turned to Jack. “Alright, now we have a pilot, now we need a destination.”

Jack nodded, “What do you need? Are you looking for somewhere to stash the ship, or are you looking for somewhere to set up camp while you try to contact your people?”

The pooka glanced between each other, quickly discussing their options.

After a minute Col turned to him. “For now we need somewhere to put the ship. We can decide on a permanent place to stay later, though we will need the ship to be nearby when we eventually set up camp,” he said.

Jack grinned, “Then I know just the place.”

Colm smirked, “Lead the way.”

Two hours, three destroyed trees, and one sheepish Hyacinth later, the ship was safely stored in a cave hidden deep in the mountains.

Stellan immediately took charge, ordering the others to help her set up various machines. Stellan herself immediately went about setting up one of them, carefully checking it for damage before powering it on.

Jack had yelped in surprise when it suddenly beeped, much to the amusement of the others. To spare Jack any more heart attacks, Neva sent him out to collect various food items so that they could be tested.

“Just a little bit, it doesn’t have to be much. Maybe just one or two of each thing.” She had said.

Hence why three hours later Jack was struggling to fly while balancing a giant sack of produce and his staff. He landed haphazardly in the cave entrance, nearly falling flat on his face.

Colm greeted him at the ramp, a bucket in his paw. Unfortunately, the translator was too far away to help them talk, but from the gestures he was making Jack gathered that he was going to collect something.

Climbing up into the belly of the ship, Jack made his way to the bridge, clearing his throat to catch the attention of the light grey doe fiddling with the controls of a particularly large machine.

“Good, you’re back. Just leave it by the door, I have to do a few things before we can begin testing,” Stellan said.

Jack nodded, relieved to be rid of the heavy sack. “So where are the others?” he asked.

“Colm went to get water. Neva and Hyacinth went to scout the area, ” she said, her eyes never leaving the machine.

Jack nodded, curiously drifting over to look at the device. “So what’s this thing?” he asked.

“It tests biological matter to see if it can be eaten by pooka,” Stellan said, “it’s pretty standard on ships, just in case the crew gets stranded somewhere without supplies.”

“Ah, ok,” he said. He stepped closer to the machine, trying to make sense of what he was seeing and failing miserably. “Is there anything else I can help with?” he asked, “preferably that does not involve trying to use something like that.”

Stellan laughed, “No, I think we’re good for now. Once I get around to testing the food, I’ll ask you to go get more, but that’ll be a while.”

He nodded, turning away and sitting down on one of the crates to watch.

The pooka flipped a few switches, and the machine hummed to life. She then began to rapidly press buttons, and the strange letter marks he had seen on the translator began to appear on the screen. After the machine made a series of beeps Stellan grinned and walked back to the sack, pulling it open and rummaging around inside. She turned to him to say something, but a disgruntled and thoroughly soaked Colm walked in, cutting her off.

“What happened to you?” Jack asked.

“I fell in the creek,” he said, sounding utterly annoyed.

Stellan and Jack looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Hey! It’s not funny!”

Chapter Text

May, 1777

Two weeks later and everything was going smoothly. Colm had ‘borrowed’ some gunpowder from a particularly violent Spanish trader, and Neva had proceeded to cheerfully blow a large hole in the mountainside. They had cleared out the rock, and once Jack found some blankets, the four pooka had begun to use it as a bedroom.

They had also discovered that mixing sheep, rabbit, and goat milk and then boiling it with a tea made of pine needles was an acceptable milk substitute for the baby. No one was exactly sure how Stellan had found the recipe, or how she had gotten the ingredients, and they weren’t really sure they wanted to know.

In order to bolster their food supplies, Colm had started a garden at the bottom of the slope after some consulting with Jack and several trips on the spirit’s part. Colm had begun to run himself ragged, but the rest of them were so busy with their own tasks that they couldn’t help him.

Neva and Jack were sent to get food, Neva to hunt game and Jack to gather fruit and vegetables from the humans, Stellan was busy ‘sciencing’ as she called it, and Hyacinth was running around gathering materials for her and occasionally helping Neva make traps.

It was that labor shortage that led to their current situation.

Neva and Jack had just finished tracking down a cougar that was getting too close to camp at night, and Stellan and Hyacinth had been out gathering wild plants that the humans used as medicine. They met up a quarter mile from camp, Hyacinth bursting into laughter when he saw the dead mountain cat they were carrying.

Luckily for him, the others each grabbed a leg, helping carry the dead predator. Hyacinth asked Neva a question, but since they had all agreed that any technology wouldn’t leave camp, Jack couldn’t understand what they were saying.

Stellan had promised that she would teach him Empiric Standard if he taught all the kits English. However, he was beginning to recognize a few words and phrases without help, he just didn’t know what they meant.

He adjusted his grip on the cat, grimacing at Neva. They could have butchered the cat back where they killed it, but she insisted on trying to skin it. He didn’t know why she was even bothering, they had blankets and the pooka didn’t have to wear clothes, so they had no need for a cat pelt.

“Ahwt het?” Stellan said suddenly, staring ahead.

They looked to where she was looking, and Hyacinth let out a surprised yip.

Colm was standing in front of the gardens, talking to another, much smaller grey kit. The two turned to them, and the new kit waved, grinning in the odd close-lipped way the pooka smiled. Colm nodded to them, opening the satchel at his feet and pulling out the translator.

Neva growled and dropped the cat.

Jack grunted, nearly losing his grip on it.

“What did you do?” Neva hissed.

“I needed help and you guys have your hands full. I figured waking up another of the older kits would help unburden everyone,” Colm explained.

“And you didn’t think to ask us?” Stellan asked, disapproval thick in her voice.

The buck winced, “Ok, I probably should have talked to you first, but I don’t see much harm it in. She’s five hundred and twenty-eight cycles old, she can take carry her own weight.”

“And what of winter? Jack says that it is coming in a few months, we do not have the supplies to feed six people, and Jack can’t steal that much food for us!” Neva said.

Colm winced a little bit. “I figured that when winter came she would go back into the isopod and we would wake her up when spring comes,” he said.

Neva began to retort, but Stellan cut her off. “That’s not a bad plan, but you really should have at least talked to us before waking her, Colm.”

He winced and nodded.

Neva growled again, stalking back to Jack and the others, angrily yanking the cat out of their grip and hefting it over her shoulder. She stormed off, muttering to herself.

Jack and Stellan exchanged looks.

“Did I do something wrong?” The newcomer asked timidly.

Colm shook his head, “No, you didn’t do anything, Savannah. It’s me she’s mad at, but she’ll calm down in an hour or two.”

Jack grinned, jumping into the air and letting the wind carry him over to them. “Hi, I’m Jack Frost, who are you?” he asked, smiling.

“I’m Savannah,” she said, smiling timidly back at him.

“That’s a very pretty name. Why don’t we go back to the ship and find something to eat. I think we should all talk for a bit.”

Savanna looked briefly at Colm and nodded after he smiled at her.

An hour later and the group was sitting together in ‘The Nest’ as Savannah dubbed it.

At some point, someone had gone back to the ship and gotten an apple and a pair of carrots for her, and she ate the food with gusto, cheerfully talking to Jack all the while.

She chattered on and on, telling him about how she wanted to be a healer like her parents, and her mother had taught her how to grow herbs and the like since she had apparently owned an apothecary. She pestered him with questions about Earth, asking about the plants, the people, the animals, basically everything she could think of.

Jack answered as best he could, but being a winter spirit, he didn’t know much about anything but the weather.

At some point, Neva had joined them, though the other pooka wrinkled their noses, complaining that she smelled like blood.

She had shrugged and said that she couldn’t do much about it without soap. “I did get the cat skinned, though,” she said.

“Is the pelt usable?” Stellan asked.

“Uh, I guess? It’s not pretty, but once it’s treated we should be able to use it for something.”

“Should I get started on making dinner with the meat then?” Colm asked.

Neva shrugged. “Up to you, I guess. The sun is starting to go down, so you could if you wanted. I butchered the meat, it’s in the cooler.”

He nodded and stood up, smiling at Savannah as he left. Once he had disappeared she turned to Jack.

“What does he make for dinner?” she asked, curious.

Jack shrugged. “Depends on the day. Usually, he makes soup or a salad,” he said.

He didn’t recognize some of the things Colm had made, but based on the happy reactions from the pooka he assumed it was something they were familiar with. Being a winter spirit, he didn’t have to eat as often as the mortal kits, but when he did he had been impressed with the young buck’s cooking skill.

The others liked it as well, and more than one argument had been smoothed over by Colm’s cooking. As it were, the kits were starting to lose weight. It had only been two weeks, but already they were looking a little leaner.

That irked Jack to no end.

He had become fond of the little alien children, and being the only adult, he felt responsible for them. They were eating more since Jack and Neva started hunting, the traps they set all over the forest yielding a decent amount of meat, but it still wasn’t enough. They needed more food than they could currently get their hands on, and he couldn’t risk taking more from the humans. They had their own kids to feed, after all.

Stellan had noticed Jack’s frustration and reminded him that once Colm’s garden began to grow that they would have more. That had gone a long way to waylay his fears, but he’d be on edge until it came time for harvest.

“I hope he hurries, I’m kinda hungry,” Savannah said.

Jack laughed. “Even after that apple?”

Savannah pouted, “Don’t laugh at me, I’m a growing kit, I need food!”

He playfully rolled his eyes, “Sure, Savannah, whatever you say.”

“Colm doesn’t usually take too long,” Stellan said, interjecting. “And if you get too hungry, you might be able to beg some vegetables off Colm.”  

The newest kit nodded.

“Also, we need to talk about your education,” she said.

The younger doe groaned.

Stellan smirked, “I know, but you’re only five hundred and twenty cycles, you still have to finish your general education.”

“How do you plan to go about doing that, Stellan?” Neva asked, “None of us are teachers.”

Stellan nodded, “I know, but we do have a copy of The Archive on the ship. If we looked around we could probably find the standard curriculum on board.”

“That’s great, but do we have the time for her to be going to school every day? In case you forgot, we’re stranded on a random planet. We don’t even know if we’ll survive the winter, nevermind until someone can come rescue us!” Neva said, obviously agitated.

“I hardly forgot, Neva. But you’re right, we can’t afford for her to go to school. I’m thinking that she’ll study for maybe an hour or two after it’s dark before bed. That way she won’t be completely behind and she can still help out Colm.”

“Can I skip math?” Savannah asked.

The older kits laughed. “No, you still have to learn math, algebra is important. But I suppose you could skip the art, government, and history portions. But you definitely have to take geography and biology. For the language we could substitute for English,” Stellan said.

Savannah groaned, flopping down dramatically.

The other laughed at her theatrics. “What’s ‘The Archive’?” Jack asked, curious.

“It’s like a giant book!” Savannah said, “It holds everything that the pooka have ever known, so everybody uses it to look up information, and we use it in school.”

“It must be a massive book then,” he said.

The other kits shook their heads.

“It’s not actually a book. It’s a computer file. You need one of the machines on the ship to read it, and when you access it, it shows the text on the screen,” Hyacinth said, speaking up for the first time in a long while.

Jack blinked. “Okay then. I’m going to pretend I understand.”

The pooka laughed.

“I can show you it!” Savannah said, sitting up. “As long as someone else sets it up. I can’t work computers.”

“I can do it,” Hyacinth said, “I usually set up the machines for Stellan anyway, so I can spare a minute to set it up later today or tomorrow.”

The group muttered their affirmations.

Conversation continued for a while, interrupted when Colm walked back into The Nest.

“Dinner’s ready!”

Savannah cheered, jumping up and running out of the room toward the cooking area.

Jack burst out laughing, and they all followed her at a more reasonable pace.

Aster Bunnymund was not having a good day.

For the most part, fall and winter were his offseasons, when he could relax and spend time painting and taking care of his warren. What he didn’t want was to be interrupted when his scanners began blaring, informing him that a large object had entered the Earth’s atmosphere.

He had spent the past two weeks tracking down where the asteroid was -he really needed to upgrade the things- he found himself in the middle of a field in Pennsylvania.

Half the land was torn up, soil flug all around the area. There was a trench dug into the ground where the asteroid had hit and continued to move. That wouldn’t have been so odd if the asteroid -that had to be at least twenty feet long and fifteen feet long if his calculations were correct- wasn’t missing.

He was completely at a loss.

He could smell the distinctive scent of ice magic, but it was so faded he couldn’t tell who it belonged to. He racked his brain, trying to think of who could have done this.

The only ones he could think of had no reason to take a giant chunk of space rock.

General Winter never left his fortress in Russia, the Snow Queen was too busy with whatever human man she had taken, and Loki, the only real culprit, was currently in Asgard for some celebration or another. There was that minor winter spirit born here a few decades back, but he wouldn’t have been powerful enough to have moved such a massive object for at least a few centuries.

Aster was completely at a loss.

He could check local settlements to see if they had mined it or something, but there weren’t any broken shards or dust that would indicate that it had been broken down.

The pooka shook his head. It wasn’t like it was particularly important to find it, he had long given up hope that asteroids could be one of his people’s ships, but it was quite the mystery.

Aster sighed and tapped his foot on the ground, dropping into one of his tunnels and running back to the Warren.

Chapter Text

May, 1777

“Jack, can you strip for me?” Stellan asked.

Jack choked, accidentally swallowing a large chunk of puma meat. Neva thumped him on the back as he started coughing. “No! Absolutely not!” Jack said, “I don’t care what project you’re getting into, I am not taking off my clothes.”

“Why not? I need to see a human male without their clothes on so I can shift properly,” Stellan said.

Jack was shocked by her blase attitude. He wasn’t nearly as prudish as the humans since he often ripped clothes and couldn’t find replacements for a while, but that crossed a line even he  wasn’t comfortable with. Not to mention, he was completely confused by what she meant when she said ‘shift’.

The other pooka nodded, obviously catching on to something Jack was missing.

“You should,” Neva said, nonchalantly taking a bite of her soup.

“Why! Why would I take off my clothes?” Jack yelled, blushing furiously. He really needed to have a talk with the kits on privacy. Neva had said that the pooka only wore clothes if they were scholars or diplomats and they clearly didn’t understand the implications behind clothes for someone who didn’t have fur.

“Cause Stellan wants to shift into a human form,” Savannah said, “And she needs to see what a human looks like to do that!”

“You say that like it makes sense, kid,” Jack said, red tinging his cheeks. It was slightly freaking him out that this kid was so comfortable with seeing adults naked.

“ It’s not that big of a deal, you can just do it now!” she said, gesturing with her spoon and accidentally flinging a few drops of broth at Hyacinth.

“Clearly we need to have a talk on boundaries,” Jack said, unconsciously drawing his legs up.

Neva rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Jack, but as you’re clearly confused, I’ll explain. Do you remember when we first met and we said that we could change our sex at will?” she asked.

Jack nodded. That was hardly something he could forget. Especially when, after two days of knowing the kits, Stellan had come up to him to ask him something, but instead of being broad shouldered and fairly muscular like before, she was shorter with wide hips and far less bulky. That had been… interesting to say the least.

“Well the reason we can do that is that we have the ability to shapeshift.”

Jack stared at her, trying to find any hint that she was joking. “Bullshit,” Jack said, finding none.

“Was that a curse word?” Savannah asked, looking at Neva curiously. When Jack guiltily glanced back at her she smirked, mouthing ‘bullshit’ over and over. This kid was going to be the death of him.

“Please don’t teach the little kits how to swear, Jack,” Stellan said, “But we can shapeshift. The explanation as to why and how we can would take too long to explain, so just don’t question it, we’ll probably explain at some point. But I figured that if I transformed we could trade with the humans, that way we could get supplies without stealing them. The humans clearly aren’t doing that great either, and they have offspring of their own to take care of.”

“That’s a great sentiment, but we don’t have anything to trade,” Neva pointed out.

Jack nodded in agreement. They were using everything they could get their hands on. The only thing they had to spare was tech that would make the mortals think they were witches or Neva’s few poor attempts to skin animals.

“Actually we do!” Stellan objected, grinning.

Neva raised a brow and gestured for the other doe to continue.

“Back when I was testing foods Jack got me a loaf of bread. Well I tested part of it, then left it on a shelf. I found it a few days later and there was this fuzzy green and white mold on it. Well, I wasn’t doing anything right then because I was waiting for some things to finish up, so for fun I tested the mold.”

The others exchanged looks. Stellan’s forays into science had a history of mixed results. Her first attempts to make gunpowder, for example, nearly blew up the cockpit of the ship. After that, they weren’t all that thrilled if Stellan tried to experiment.

“And it turns out that this mold is a really good natural antibiotic! So I went to one of the human villages and followed the doctor around for a while to see if they knew about it. Turns out they didn’t! They put moldy bread on wounds, but they didn’t know about bacteria or anything like that.”

Stellan’s rambling usually didn’t make sense to anyone but Hyacinth, who was usually there with her so she explained in detail, but in this case the others clearly understood what she meant. He began to ask a question, but she cut him off.

“I’ll explain later, but the short version is that I discovered a powerful medicine. Now take off your clothes,” Stellan said.

“No! We’re in the middle of supper!” Jack yelled, gesturing to the bowls of soup in everyone’s hands.

“After supper then?”

“Still no!”

Neva rolled her eyes, ignoring the snickering of the younger three kits. “Jack, just do it. It’s not that big of a deal. You and Stellan can go up in the ship and do it there.”

“I’m beginning to regret helping you,” Jack said bluntly.

“No you don’t. You love us,” Savannah said.

“I’ve known you for like two hours,” he told her.

“I know, but you’re nice, and you act like a big brother to the others. It’s pretty obvious that you care about them. From what you guys told me, you’ve done a lot more to help us then most people would. And you’ve been very kind to me, even though I wasn’t supposed to be woken up. I really like you, and the others do too.”

Jack rubbed his head, a little embarrassed by her confession. She wasn’t wrong. The past few weeks had been amazing. Seventy years of no contact with anyone and suddenly he had people who spoke with him, who cared about him; it was hard to not get attached.

“You’re trying to guilt him into doing what Stellan wants, aren’t you?” Colm said bluntly, interrupting Jack’s internal reverie.

“I am not!” Savannah yelled, her ears twitching guiltily.

“You are a terrible liar,” Colm told her.

Savannah huffed, slouching down and ignoring everyone’s laughter in favor of eating her soup.

Jack snorted, smiling fondly at the young doe. He wondered briefly how old she was in human terms. Technically she was five hundred and seventy years old, but she acted like an eleven or twelve year old girl.

Stellan rolled her eyes, “If it bothers you that much I can just hang around the humans until I see someone naked.”

Jack groaned, violating the mortal’s privacy was just wrong. “Please don’t. That is severely creepy. If you need me to do it so desperately I’ll do it after dinner, but they,” he gestured to the other kits, “will not be there.”

Stellan nodded in acceptance.

“Speaking of which, what do we actually need to get from the humans?” Jack asked, changing the subject, “we should probably talk about that before you go.”

“That’s probably a good idea, I think we ought to get tools. Hoes, cooking and skinning knives, some type of hunting projectile weapon, and definitely some blankets. Some salt would probably be good too,” Hyacinth suggested.

“You’ve put some thought into this, haven’t you,” Colm joked.

The youngest buck nodded, ears twitching when Stellan smiled at him.

“Rope and maybe an axe for chopping firewood. It’s generally pleasant right now, but where we are gets really cold in winter. I can shield you guys for a few years and make the weather not as bad, but I can only do that for about three years before the environment gets messed up or another spirit comes to stop me,” Jack said, shivering slightly.

“Another spirit?” Colm questioned.

He had told them a little about what he knew of the spirit world, but he hadn’t told them much about the other ‘immortals’, as they called him.

Jack shivered, “Mother Nature. I’ve only met her once, but she’s terrifying and far more powerful than I am. She won’t take kindly to me messing up the weather patterns.” That was an understatement. Last time she had gotten angry a few centuries back, Europe had a mini ice age.

“Alright, what do we want to get first? The humans won’t immediately believe me, so they probably won’t give us much at first. We’ll have to wait to prove to them that the antibiotic will work,” Stellan said.

“Will it, though? Sure it’ll kill bacteria, but will it kill the humans as well? We don’t know if it will be poisonous to them,” Colm pointed out.

Jack nodded in agreement.

“Didn’t you say that the humans already use a crude version of the mold? If they do that, it probably won’t be too bad for them,” Savannah pointed out.

Stellan nodded, “My thoughts exactly. I’ve already begun to work on refining it, and I think I’m almost done. I’ll have to do a few tests to get a rough dosage, but I think I can make it work.” That was slightly more reassuring, but it was obvious that the older kits still weren’t completely convinced.

“You’re sure you won’t accidentally kill anyone?” Neva asked, “if we kill a human accidentally they’ll come after us .”

“I’m about ninety-five percent sure. It’d be best if I could get some human blood to test, but I did test it against pookan samples and it didn’t react poorly.”

“Where did you get the samples?” Jack asked, confused. As far as he knew, none of the kits had been injured recently. Hyacinth had tripped over a log and cut his leg a week ago, but it was small and had stopped bleeding.

“I might have cut myself a little bit,” Stellan admitted.

“You did what !” Hyacinth yelled, obviously distressed.

“It was a small cut! I only took enough to fill a small vial,” she said defensively, “I couldn’t find a syringe, so I had to make do!”

“Stellan, I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one,” Jack said, “we could have used animal blood, you didn’t have to hurt yourself.”

Her ears twitched much like Savannah’s had earlier and she ducked her head, avoiding his gaze.

Jack immediately felt guilty, he knew Stellan was just trying to help, even if her methods were a little reckless once and awhile.

“Jack, is it possible for you to sound more like a disappointed parent?” Neva asked, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

That got a quiet snort from Savannah. Hyacinth was still staring at Stellan in mute horror, obviously disturbed by her admission. Jack glanced at the others, taking in their expressions. Savannah was the calmest of the bunch, and was obviously slightly confused by the older pooka’s reactions. Jack was just as confused, but a gesture from Neva said that she would explain later. Colm obviously wasn’t happy, but he was taking it better than the others. Neva was trying to keep her face blank, but Jack could tell she was just as disturbed as Hyacinth.

“Soooo… is there dessert?” Savannah asked.

The group turned to her, startled by the sudden change in conversation.

“Do you think about anything other than food?” Jack asked bluntly. It seemed all she had done since waking up was eat.

“Cryo-sleep makes you hungry!” she defended, “And I hadn’t eaten for three days before I went into the pod.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Three days! Why didn’t you have any food?” he asked, bewildered. What were the adult pooka doing before they left?

“We were in the middle of a war zone,” Neva said, “The only reason Stellan and I had eaten anything is that we found some preserved food in a ruined shop. The nightmare men were openly roaming the streets, looking for people to kill, so it was a little hard to find food in a destroyed city.”

“I holed up in a military bunker,” Colm offered.

Hyacinth looked down, his fists clenched at his side.

Jack looks at him, concerned. “Maybe this is a talk we need to have later,” he said. This wasn’t the first time that they had mentioned the violent situation they were escaping, but this was the first time they had gone into any kind of detail. It made Jack realize just how terrible their situation really was. The youngest buck nodded, harshly rubbing his watering eyes.

Colm looked like he was going to object, but Neva cut him off with a look. They didn’t talk for the rest of the meal, awkwardly piling the dishes by the fire.

Stellan and Jack went up to the ship, walking into the cargo hold. Jack closed the doors, and after a ‘go on’ gesture from the doe, he pulled his shirt off.

Twenty minutes later Jack was staring at his exact twin wrapped in a blanket.

“You did good,” Colm said, “You look just like him.”

Stellan grinned, and Jack couldn’t help but be slightly weirded out by seeing his doppelganger smile at him. “Wait, we forgot about something,” Jack said, suddenly realizing the giant flaw in their plan. Honestly, he was surprised that Stellan hadn’t thought of this before.

“What?” Hyacinth asked.

“None of you speak English, how do you plan to talk to the mortals?” he said. With their ban on tech leaving the cave, they couldn’t take the translator with them to the village. Without the translator, they couldn’t talk to the villagers.

“I know. I figured that you would come with me and would tell me what to say,” Stellan said.

“And how would that work exactly?” Jack asked.

“Well, when I need to talk to someone, you would say whatever I need to say, and I would repeat it. It would kind of be like you were talking through me,” she explained.

Jack and Neva exchanged nervous glances.

“Are you sure this will work?” Neva asked, decidedly unsure.

The fake Jack nodded. “I’m sure. Even if things go bad, I’ll run away and change back. I’ll come back to base, and in a week or two I’ll go back as a different looking human so they don’t know it’s me.”

The other kits nodded, approving of the plan.

“For the record, I think this is a bad idea,” Jack said.

Chapter Text

May, 1777

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Jack said. Three days after their conversation over dinner, Stellan said she was ready.

“Ei ntca nreudtnas uyo, Jack,” she said.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had stolen a pair of men’s clothes a few hours before, and after several minutes of fumbling, the pooka had managed to put them on. After gathering the supplies necessary to trade, they had set out together for the nearest village. The spirit still wasn’t convinced that this would go over well, but the others had been quite insistent that she could pull it off. “I think we should have practiced more,” he said to himself.

“Ah tink we shod ‘ave are pratised,” Stellan muttered sarcastically, obviously trying to mock him.

He glared at her, getting a smirk in return. “Not funny, Stellan,” he said.

“Noot fony, Stellan,” she said back, grinning.

“You are such a brat,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. She didn’t sound that bad, he mused. It was obvious that English wasn’t her first language, but she was mostly understandable, so he couldn’t complain too much. Hopefully, this wouldn’t go absolutely horribly, he wasn’t entirely sure if he had the strength to pick her up and fly off with her. His companion placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder and tried to smile at him reassuringly. He gave her a quick, nervous smile. “We should go,” he said, gesturing towards the distant village to convey what he was saying.

She was confused for a moment, but quickly realized what he meant.

They set off down the path together, Jack nervously adjusting his grip on his staff. If this turned out well, the kits would have a good source of supplies for winter, but if it didn’t he wasn’t sure if he could get Stellan to safety quickly enough.

The pooka offered him a nervous smile, trying to reassure him but not at all succeeding. A minute of walking and the village was just visible behind the treeline. Small, wooden buildings peeked between the trees, and they could hear the murmur of people going about their daily lives.

Stellan let out a loud sigh and hiked her bag further up her shoulder, steeling herself for what was about to happen.

As they drew closer to the village, people began to come into view. At first, no one noticed them, but after a few moments, they began to realize Stellan was there. They whispered to themselves, eyeing her uneasily.

“This is about to go very poorly,” Jack muttered, adjusting his grip on his staff. His companion didn’t acknowledge him, but she subtly twisted her wrist in a gesture that Neva had said was a sort of prayer for luck.

Stellan made eye contact with some of the villagers, nodding in greeting to those they passed. Judging by the human’s posture that made them less wary, but some of the men were on edge. As they walked past the first few buildings one of the older men, the priest by the look of it, approached them.

“Greetings, please excuse my flock, we don’t get many visitors all the way out here, and the war with the British has everyone on edge,” the clergyman said.

“It’s fine, I know war is trying,” Jack said. Stellan better not mess up, if they managed to fool the priest then the rest of the villagers would be more likely to trust them, but if she messed up they’d be chased out of town pretty quickly.

“Eet’s fone, ah no war es trying,” she said.

He held his breath, waiting for the priest’s response.

The man raised a brow. “French, eh? Well, welcome to Pennsylvania, I am William George, and I am the local pastor here. What brings you to our little town?”

“I am Jackson Mundy, I’m a traveling doctor. I’m trying to make my way back to New Orleans,” Jack said, quickly coming up with the only southern French city he could think of. He hadn’t thought that Stellan sounded French, but if it helped her cover Jack wasn’t about to correct the assumption.

She parroted the line back to the priest who raised a brow.

“A doctor, eh? Well, we always have need for one of those. How long have you been practicing medicine?”

“Six years,” Jack said, slowing how his speech in an attempt to help Stellan pronounce the words. After this, he was teaching her how to speak English. This was a very temporary fix, and eventually, the humans would realize that something was wrong.

“Sis yeers,” she said, managing that a bit better. It was a good thing that Jack insisted on practicing before they came, she was much better than when they had started.

The priest nodded, stroking the wispy beginnings of a beard. “Well, that’s reassuring. If you wouldn’t mind, there is a young girl here, Mary Farrar, who has been sick for many weeks. I have tried to heal her, but I am no doctor. If you would take a look at her, I can give you lodging in the church for the night,” he said.

Jack let out the breath he had been holding, it looked like their ruse was working. As long as this medicine that Stellan had made worked they should be alright.

“Alright, I’d be glad to look at her,” Jack said.

“Ahrit, ah’d be glad ta lok aht er.”

William smiled and gestured for them to follow him. He led them through the tiny row of buildings toward a nondescript building in the center of the town. The villagers were noticeably less hostile now that the priest was with them.

“What’s wrong with the girl?” Jack asked.

William was briefly confused by Stellan’s pronunciation, but quickly realized what she meant. “Well, she has a fever, and she’s been coughing violently. She has also complained of being nauseated, but her parents have said that she hasn’t vomited.”

Jack made a face. This didn’t sound fun. Hopefully Stellan knew what she was doing. The human held the doors open as they walked in.

The winter spirit looked around curiously. In all his years of being a spirit, he had never actually set foot in a church. He liked to sit on the bell towers in some of the larger towns, but he had never gone in to listen to the sermon.

William led them to the back of the church, opening a door partially hidden behind a bookshelf. He walked in first, beckoning Stellan to join him. Jack walked in behind the transformed pooka.

A young girl, no more than ten years old, lay on a simple straw bed. She was unnaturally pale, almost as pale as himself. In contrast, her cheeks were flushed. She coughed weakly, feverish eyes turning to look at the newcomers.

“Mary, this is Jackson Mundy, he’s a traveling doctor. He promised to take a look at you, so behave for him please.” Mary nodded, glassy eyes looking up at Stellan.

“‘Ello, Marie,” she said, unprompted.

Jack looked at her in surprise. It seemed that she had been paying more attention to what they were saying than he had given her credit for.

“Hello, doctor,” the girl said, her voice hoarse.

Stellan smiled at her and gestured for her to sit up. She did so with the pooka’s help, propping herself up against the wooden wall.

He quickly thought over what the kits had explained about doctors, trying to think of what Stellan should say. She had mentioned something about if the person had a cough that she would listen to their breathing or something along those lines.

He quickly walked over to where he could be seen. He mimed the action to Stellan, and she imperceptibly nodded.

“I’m going to listen to your breathing.”

“Ah’m going ta lesten ta yer bhething,” she said.

Mary nodded.

Stellan smiled and leaned down, pressing her ear to the girl’s chest. She stayed like that for a minute before lifting her head. She then placed two fingers on the girl’s neck, feeling for her pulse. Nodding to herself, Stellan shrugged off her bag, placing it on the bed and rummaging through it. She pulled out a metal tube that he had never seen before but could tell had come from the ship.

Concerned, he watched her place the object in the girl’s mouth. She had her keep it there for a minute, patting the girl’s shoulder when she coughed.

After sixty seconds had passed she removed the tub, glancing over the tube before pulling a glass case out of her bag and slipped the tub inside.

“What is that?” William asked curiously.

Jack cursed under his breath. This was bad. He really needed to teach the kits English before they tried this again. “It will help me understand what is wrong with her,” he said.

“Et well ‘elp me undrstand wat es wrong with ‘er,” Stellan said.

The man nodded, apparently satisfied.

Jack sighed in relief, meeting her puzzled gaze. He gave her a thumbs up.

Her lips twitched upwards, and she lifted the vial to the light.

The sprite noticed that Stellan was turned just enough to prevent the priest from seeing exactly she was looking at but allowing him to guess what she was doing. Probably a good idea, Jack didn’t know what it did, but something told him that the priest wouldn’t like it.

Inside the vial, the metal suddenly turned a violent red color, and the pooka nodded thoughtfully at it. Apparently, she could make sense of the instrument. He’d have to get her to explain what it was when they got back to the ship, he was quite curious about its function.

Stellan turned back around, nodding slightly in Jack’s direction and twitching her left ring finger. That was the cue that they had agreed on that meant that she could treat the patient.

“I can help her,” Jack said.

The priest smiled when the news was relayed to him.

“Oh thank the Lord! Do you need anything to treat her? I can have the girl’s mother grab any supplies you need.”

“A mug of water, please,” Jack said.

“Ah moog ah water, pleese.”

The priest nodded and opened the door to the rest of the church. He walked out, closing the door behind him.

The pooka placed the vial back in her bag, pulling out an old wine bottle that Hyacinth had found in the forest. The green bottle was filled about half way with a powder that he knew was white and smelled like rotten eggs. He was very glad that he wasn’t sick and didn’t have to eat it. She also pulled out a set of small cups that Colm used when he measured herbs that Jack and Neva found when they were out hunting into their food.

She had explained that based on the girl’s weight she would measure out a certain amount of the powder and put it in a glass of water for her to drink. They would then leave some of the medicine with the villagers with instructions on how much to give her and how often. They would then come back in several days to see if the girl had improved.

Jack leaned back against the wall, nodding at his companion. He really hoped that Stellan knew what she was doing, the girl looked terrible, pale and coughing constantly. If they didn’t heal her, she might actually die.

A minute later, William came back in, earthen mug in hand. Wordlessly, he handed it to the transformed pooka.

She set it on the table next to the bed. Uncorking the wine bottle, she carefully measured out a small amount, dropping it into the water and stirring. She handed the cup to the little girl, smiling encouragingly.

Mary drank the glass and handed it back to Stellan when she finished.

Stellan opened her sack again, pulling out a small corked vial. Once again, she began to carefully measure the powder into the container, replacing the cork after she was finished. She set the vial down on the table and began to repack her things. When she was finished, she stood up and faced the priest.

“Give her a fourth of a teaspoon twice a day for a week,” Jack said, pausing to allow Stellan to speak, “she should be alright by then, if not I can give her more.”

The man looked astonished. “That’s it? Where did you come across this medicine?” he asked, flabbergasted.

“It was recently discovered by a friend of mine in Canada,” Jack replied. He seemed to accept this answer.

“Well, I insist you have supper and stay the night in the village, it is the least we could do. After the girl recovers, we could give you a few things to help you on your journey.”

“And the conquering heroes return!” Neva said, grinning, “I assume it went well?”

They nodded. “The humans were fine, the antibiotics worked perfectly,” Stellan said proudly.

Jack nodded, that had gone far better than he had expected. The humans had been so happy with Mary’s treatment that they had given Stellan far more than what she had asked for.

For saving the girl’s life they had been given several yards of rope, a small axe, a bag of salt, two cast iron pots, a large cooking knife, and a small pistol wrapped up in a large blanket.

Jack hadn’t been thrilled at that last item. He knew that they needed some way to hunt, not just trap, but he had been hoping for something more along the lines of a bow and arrows, not a gun.

Stellan had been fascinated with the firearm. She mentioned that the pooka had once made a weapon that was very similar, but it had been outlawed after only a few years in production.

The humans had shown her how to load and fire the thing, but Jack wasn’t sure if she would be able to use it after she shifted back. The pooka had larger fingers than humans did, so it wasn’t certain that they would be able to fit in the trigger. He wouldn’t lose any sleep it it turned out they couldn’t use it.

“Where should we put this down?” he asked, gesturing to the pack he and Stellan were carrying.

“Why don’t we put it in the cargo hold with the rest of the stuff?” Neva suggested, “We can give Colm his cooking supplies later, and you and I can set up more traps tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

June, 1777

“Jack, Jack!”

Jack looked up, startled.

Savannah was standing at the mouth of the cave, looking down the slope of the mountain to him and waving. When he noticed her she gestured for him to come up to her.

Calling the wind, Jack jumped into the air, allowing himself to be carried up to the young pooka. He landed in front of her, smiling at her. “What do you need, Savannah?” he asked, not entirely expecting a response. Last he knew, the translator had been left in the Nest and Savannah didn’t know how to use it.

She grinned happily, grabbing his hand and pulling him back into the cavern, bouncing all the while.

Jack laughed, letting her lead him up the ramp onto the ship. Apparently, pooka bounced and hopped around when they were excited, and it was impossible not to find it completely adorable. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“Savannah, did you get him?” Stellan yelled from further in the ship.

“Yeah! We’re here!” she replied, pressing a paw to the door control. The door retracted, revealing Stellan crouching front of a small device.

“What’s that?” Jack asked.

“The Archive! Stellan said that he’d set it up for me!” Savannah explained, “I wanted you to see it too!”

Jack nodded, examining the device. It certainly wasn’t what he had been expecting. He had thought that it was going to be a glass screen like the ones on Stellan’s machines. Instead it was a metal pyramid about two feet tall. The tip was shaved off, and a glass orb was embedded in device. It was etched with pookan characters.

“Are you ready to go?” Stellan asked, standing and turning to them.

Savannah nodded eagerly, one ear flopping over her face.

Jack chuckled, reaching out and straightening it, brushing his fingertips against the downy fur. The older kits’ fur was wiry and stiff, which was extra protection when they were fighting, but the fur on the younger kits was incredibly soft. It made Savannah and Hyacinth very comfortable cuddle buddies.

The pooka kit shivered, “ Hey, that tickles!”

The winter spirit laughed, letting Savannah take her ear out of his grip. He smirked when she stuck her tongue at him and hopped away to stand closer to Stellan.

The oldest pooka rolled his eyes and pressed a few buttons on the machine. The glass bulb suddenly lit up, projecting bright white light into the cockpit. “Is there anything in particular you want to see?” he asked, looking between two of them.

“I wanna see pictures of Home World!” Savannah exclaimed, twitching in excitement.

“Careful, Savannah, you don’t want to vibrate through the floor,” Jack teased.

“Alright, I’ll pull up some pictures,” Stellan said, pointedly ignoring their antics. He pressed a button near the top. The light brightened suddenly, and a small rectangle covered in small squares appeared above the bulb, hovering in midair.

Jack gaped at it. He had never seen anything like it, even among the other tech that the pooka had.

Stellan pressed several of the squares, and a large square of white light materialised to be eye level with Stellan. Savannah, being so much shorter, had to tip her head up to be able to see. A blue pulsing circle suddenly appeared.

“It’s loading,” Savannah whispered reverently, glancing back at Jack. A moment later, a series of images come onto the screen.

“Whoa,” Jack said, taking a step closer to get a better look. The pictures alternated between a landscape dominated by tall, glass covered buildings and one covered in dense foliage, foreign plants painted the images with bright green.

“Your home is beautiful,” he said.

Savannah nodded, “It really was,” she said, sadness tinging her voice. They scrolled through the pictures for a good twenty minutes before Stellan eventually turned off the projector.

“I think that’s enough for the day,” he said. Jack nodded, turning to say something to Savannah, but stopping when he saw the expression on her face. She was obviously holding back tears, and she was grinding her teeth together the way the pooka did when they were trying to comfort themselves.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.

Savannah rubbed her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m ok,” she said, her voice trembling and nearly cracking.

“Savannah…”

“I said I’m ok, Jack!” she said. Jack shared a look with the older pooka. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak Savannah bolted.

“Savannah!” he yelled lunging after her.

She dodged him, running through the open doors down the ramp and into the larger cavern.

Stellan sighed, rubbing his temples and walking over to the console in the middle of the room.

“We should go after her,” Jack said, looking worriedly at the ship’s exit.

“No. I’ll stay here, you go. She’s upset, and she needs an adult that she looks up to to comfort her, not another kit,” he said, “take this and go find her.” He picked up the translator, handing the device to Jack.

“Are you sure?” Jack asked.

The pooka nodded.

The sprite sighed, “Alright, I’ll go find her.”

“That’d be for the best.”

He walked out after the kit, not in a particular rush. There were still several hours of light left and the pooka were instinctively incredible navigators, Savannah wouldn’t get lost no matter where she charged off to. It would be best if she had a little bit to stew on her own before Jack found her.

He had been prepared for this for nearly a month and a half now. Stellan had taken him aside to tell him even before Savannah had been woken.

“Jack, can I talk to you?” Stellan asked.

Jack nodded.

They had just finished up dinner, and Colm and Hyacinth were cleaning the dishes while Neva was going through her exercises. He led him to a far corner in the cave, far enough that the other kits couldn't hear, but close enough that they could still see them.

“What’s up?” Jack asked.

Stellan sighed, “So you know how I was working with the communication equipment today?”

Jack nodded.

“Well, it’s working now.”

“That’s great!” he enthused.

The pooka shook his head, “Not really. Once I got it working, I set it to search for signals from the nearby quadrant. This is a fairly isolated area of the galaxy, so I set the signal as strong as I could. Double checking with the navigation and The Archive, there are at least five populated planets in range that should have gotten our signal.”

Jack’s heart twinged. “Well, that’s good. I guess we’ll just have to wait for someone to reply,” he said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.

He had gotten used to having the kits around. They had only been with him for about a month, but he had adored every second. Seventy-five years of isolation had left him starved for company, and the four kits filled that void very quickly. He’d miss the alien children that had been the closest thing he had to a family or friends. At least they’d be back around their own kind, staying here with the humans couldn’t be healthy for them.

“No,” Stellan said, eyes downcast.

Jack frowned, confused. “I may have sent the signal out, but there was nothing to receive them,” he continued, “I couldn’t detect any sort return signal. I thought at first that maybe since it had been so long they had discovered some new way of communicating, and our tech just wasn’t compatible, so I began to look for radio waves or anything that might indicate that there was advanced communication.”

Jack’s stomach sunk.

“I-I think they’re dead,” Stellan said, voice trembling.

“No, that can’t be right, did you consider that maybe they just abandoned the planet and went somewhere else?” Jack said.

He had never seen any of the pooka cry before, but Stellan looked like he was about to change that.

“I-I did, but all planets have a central device that transmits data to nearby ships so they can know if they can land or if there’s an emergency on the surface and there was a very specific frequency for a fearling attack. They had been around ever since we began to travel through the stars, and they had attacked planets before. But they had never managed to organize enough to wipe out a planet before Pitchner came along. Under his rule they managed to destroy several colonies and even a major trading post before communication went dark. That was two cycles before we got on the ship.

All five planets were broadcasting the signal for an attack. I looked into a bit more, a-and the instruments said that it had been transmitting for roughly two hundred and fifty million cycles. They turn it off after the attack was repelled or it runs its course, but not one of five has turned it off. I thought maybe the people had just lost the device that transmits, or that maybe it was somewhere they couldn’t get to. But then I found this other signal on a frequency that I had never seen before. I didn’t know what it meant, so I looked it up. Jack, it was the signal that a disaster had wiped out most or all of the population. They’re all dead, all four million of the people on those worlds.”

Jack felt sick. “H-how?”

Stellan shrugged, biting his lip. “I-I don’t know. There were rumors that the fearlings could infect people and make them fearlings as well, but that was never confirmed.”

Jack ran his hand through his hair, trying to think of what to do. “What do we tell the others?” he asked, conflicted. On one hand, the other kits deserved to know what had befallen their race, but on the other, they deserved to be happy and safe, even for just a while. It might be better to let them continue to believe that they would be rescued until they had gotten settled in and had some sense of stability. But when the younger kits woke up, how could they tell them that in all likelihood their entire species was dead?

Stellan shook, his shoulders rolling in a concentrated effort not to cry. “I-I-I d-don’t k-k-know,” he said, his voice cracking as the first tear disappeared into the fur on his cheeks.

Jack had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around the kit, and he was a kit, Jack realized. Stellan was so mature that he honestly forgot that he was the equivalent of seventeen. He wasn’t even an adult yet, but he had shouldered the responsibility of taking care of the others and making sure they were all happy and safe, completely disregarding himself and his needs.

The pooka didn’t give hugs, and they didn’t seem to like it when Jack hugged them, so he wouldn’t do it now. Instead, he put his hand on his shoulder, rubbing it in an admittedly feeble attempt to make him feel better.

“How about we talk about this later?” Stellan nodded.

“We can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Well, the time to cross that bridge had come. Jack hovered several feet above the ground, looking ahead. He could see the gray fluff of Savannah’s back, and he could hear the loud sobbing.

She was sitting behind a large bush, her knees clutched to her chest.

“Oh, Savannah,” Jack whispered, touching down in the leaf litter.

She didn’t look up at him, but a sudden twitching of her ears revealed that she had heard him. He walked over to her, stepping away from the thorny leaves of the bush to sit down next to her.

She curled up tighter, refusing to look in his direction.

He put a hand on her back, running his fingers through the gray fluff. She tensed up for a moment but relaxed into the touch.

There was silence between the pair for several minutes before the kit spoke up.

“We’re never going home, are we?” she asked.

Jack sighed. “No, probably not.”

Savannah sobbed loudly at the admission. “W-what did Stellan say?” she asked, “ don’t try to lie to me. I might be younger than the others, a-and I know I’m a little immature sometimes, but I’m not a little kit. I need to know, Jack.”

The winter spirit nodded. “You’re right, you aren’t a little kid, and you deserve the truth. The others don’t know yet, only Stellan and I haven’t told them,” he began. He relayed the entire story to Savannah, trying to keep his voice steady.

“What are we going to do?” Savannah asked quietly, “we can’t stay here.”

Jack had to repress a small pang of hurt. “And why not?” he asked gently, “I know this place isn’t home for you guys, but what’s to say it couldn’t be? Your old life might be gone, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t continue on. This particular location might not be ideal, but once we get you established, we can look for another place to live.”

Savannah shook her head, finally raising her gaze to look Jack in the eyes. “ It’s not that. This isn’t exactly the quality of life we’re used too, but it’s not bad. I love being with you and the others, but what about my family? They’re all gone, and it’s my job to keep their memory alive. I’m completely alone now.”

“That’s not entirely true, is it?” Jack prompted, “You have the other kits, and you have me. We may not be related, and we definitely can’t replace your family, but what’s to say we can’t start a new family here?”

Savannah began to protest, but Jack held up a hand to quiet her. “I may not have had a proper family before like you guys, being invisible and all, but I’ve watched a lot of people over seventy-five years. I don’t know how you pooka view family, but to humans, family isn’t just blood, it’s all the people you’ve met and come care about as well.”

Large, watery gray eyes stared up at him. Jack could easily see her internal conflict play out across her face. On one hand, she was reeling from the sudden loss of her family, but on the other, she was desperate to find comfort and security in Jack’s words. He smiled at her, leaning over to embrace her in a one armed hug.

“It’ll be ok, Savannah, I’m here, and I won’t leave you, ever ,” he whispered.

“Promise?”

Jack smiled, “I promise.”

Somewhere in the Australia Outback, hidden under tons of rock and soil, unknown to the world above, unheard by anyone, a small device rang out. It's creator, the one who had desperately stood by it for centuries, hoping to receive a message from others of his kind, did not hear it.

Chapter Text

December, 1777

“So, I managed to get my paws on a bow and some arrows,” Neva said one day in late December.

Colm and Hyacinth were asleep in the isopods after catching some type of sickness. Stellan had patched them up and they were fine, but they were too tired from recovery to work, so they had decided to go under until spring.

Jack looked up at her in surprise. “Where did you get a bow?” he asked, confused.

“I don’t think we want to know,” Savannah said, stretching up to whisper into his ear.

Neva rolled her eyes, “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Savannah.”

Jack chuckled, “Did Henry give it to you?”

Henry was a German hunter who passed through their woods every few weeks with his two younger brothers. Neva approached them the second time they came around, attempting to talk to them in her mispronounced, broken English. Through a mix of charades and gestures, they had managed to exchange a pot of vegetable stew for some jerky and an old steel striker. Talking with them had greatly improved Neva’s English, to the point where she could carry out full, if basic, conversations by herself. She had also begun to pick up a slight German accent, which amused Jack to no end.

She nodded. “ Yeah. Luckily it’s close enough to a standard issue bow that I figured out how to use it pretty fast, but he said something weird to me.”

“Oh? What’s that?” he asked.

“He said something about a ‘Saanta’. What is that? And why did he then ask me if I had been good?”

“Oh yeah, I guess it is nearly time for Christmas,” he mused. He had never paid much attention to the holiday, but since it fell in the middle of his holiday he had watched more than a few people celebrate it.

“What’s that?” Savannah asked, leaning on his shoulder.

Jack‘s eyes suddenly widened. It was nearly time for Christmas. A wide smile broke across his face.

“Oh no,” Neva said, recognizing the mischief twinkling in Jack’s eyes. “Oh, shush, Neva. Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ,” he began.

“The villagers’ savior guy? The one they won’t shut up about?” Savannah asked

Jack snorted, he really needed to get her to respect the human’s religion a little more before she met them. The pooka didn’t follow a religion anymore, and apparently viewed those who did with a bit of measured disdain.

“Yes, him. Anyway, Christmas is a celebration on the twenty-fifth of December, the current month, in honor of his birth. People eat sweets and give presents to their relatives and close friends. Santa is a figure that gives presents to good children and coal to ones that have been bad.”

“Why are we giving people coal?”

The three looked up in surprise.

Stellan, still in his broad-shouldered male form, was leaning against the entrance to the Nest, a large sack at his feet.

“Stellan!” Savannah yelled, jumping up and running up to the buck. “Did you get it?” she asked eagerly, bouncing in place.

He smiled and nodded opening it and rummaging around inside until he found whatever it was Savannah wanted. After a few moments, he pulled out a large ball of spun wool and a pair of knitting needles. He held them out to her and she grabbed them, looking them over once before nodding in approval.

“Thanks, Stellan!” she said, grabbing the offering and smiling at him before dashing back to Jack. She plopped down in his lap, starting to fiddle with the wool.

Jack grunted as she sat down, looking over her shoulder warily at the wool. “Do you even know how to knit?” he asked.

She nodded, twisting around to look at him. “Yeah! I was taking knitting as a beginner craft in school! I can’t do anything too complicated, but I figured I would try to make blankets!”

“This’ll be interesting to see,” Jack teased, “I’ll have Stellan get the bandages ready for when you stab yourself.”

“Why are you so mean to me?” Savannah wailed.

The others laughed.

“You’re all horrible,” she said.

“And yet you stick around,” Jack said, sticking his tongue out at her

“So, what were you talking about before?” Stellan asked.

“Jack was telling us about a human holiday called ‘Christmas’,” Neva said.

“What’s that?” he asked, clearly curious, “I’ve never heard of the humans having a celebration. I was beginning to think the Sabbath was the closest they got.”

Jack laughed, “You guys just haven’t been around the humans enough. Wait to you see the Irish celebrate St. Patrick’s day. Then you won’t have any doubts about human celebrations. But Christmas is a religious holiday that celebrates the birth of Jesus. Humans give presents to their family and friends and spend time with their loved ones. The kids get presents from St. Nicholas, Santa,” he explained, noticing Neva and Savannah’s confusion, “if they were good. If they were bad, they get coal, which is what I was explaining when you walked in.”

“Around here, coal seems like it might be a better gift than a toy,” Neva muttered.

Jack snorted, “Yeah, maybe, but what kid wants a burnable rock on a special holiday when they could get sweets or toys?”

“True.”

“On Christmas Eve he flies all over the world in a magic sleigh led by flying reindeer, and children leave out gifts of sweets and milk for him,” he continued.

“This is an interesting tradition,” Stellan mused, “I’m curious, do you know if this Santa is an immortal like yourself, Jack? You mentioned that a few of the human’s idols became immortal, so I’m curious if this applies to nonholy figures as well.”  

The winter sprite shrugged. “Maybe.”

Savannah gasped. “Wait, if he could be real, if we leave out sweets and milk, will Santa come here? Will he, Jack?”

Jack blinked, “Uhhh…”

“We should do it!” Stellan said, grinning, “it’ll be fun!”

“Really, Stellan? What are you, a kit?” Neva asked, obviously doubtful. He smiled at her, “Come on, Neva, what’s the harm?”

“You are ridiculous,” she said.

He laughed and turned to Jack. “So when is December twenty-fifth?” he asked.

“Um, ten days I think,” Jack replied.

“Perfect.”

Two days later, Jack was up in Canada to help spread winter. On impulse he suddenly veered north, flying as fast as he could towards the north pole. He was curious to see if there really was such a person as ‘Santa’. He had obviously heard of and met a few folk legends before, a few Native animal spirits, a kitsune from Japan and Mother Nature, so maybe it would make sense that the myth of Santa would create a spirit to embody it.

At top speeds, it would take Jack about an hour and a half to get back to his kits if there was an emergency, and he had been away from them for a day or two before to perform his duties, so they wouldn’t freak out if he didn’t come back immediately. And, since the snow was so thick, they rarely left the cave unless it was to get water, and even then they just got buckets of snow and let it melt over the fire. Reassured, he continued on.

He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for as he flew over the wintry, snow-covered land of Northern Canada, but he would keep looking nonetheless.

It wasn’t until he was so far north that even hardy evergreen trees refused to grow that he found the first clue of where to go. And as far as clues went, this one was fairly obvious.

Eight giant reindeer were pulling a massive red sleigh through the sky, a large man in a heavy red coat at the reigns.

Jack gaped. “I guess there really is such a thing as Santa,” he said. He hung back, flying low after Santa. He didn’t think that he would appreciate Jack plopping down in the sleigh and then immediately asking favors of a man he had never met, so he would just follow him back to the workshop and then approach him there. Jack laughed, smiling widely. Savannah and Stellan would be so excited if they knew he was real.

He knew that Santa was Christian thing, and the kits weren’t Christian, they weren’t even human, but they deserved something nice to happen to them for once. Getting a few presents wouldn’t make up for losing everything and everyone they had ever known or loved, but if it made them smile he would consider that a victory.

He was in the middle of picturing Neva’s utter shock if they woke up to find that Santa had come that he didn’t notice the grey blur running towards him until it tackled him out of the sky.

He yelped in shock as he hit the ground, a heavy, furry creature on top of him.

“And what’d ya think yer doin’ mate?” it growled.

Jack looked up, gasping incomplete shock. The creature looked just like the pooka. It had almost the exact same physique, all lean, whipcord muscle and coarse fur. Only after it growled again and got off him that he began to notice the differences.

This spirit’s torso was too thin, and the face was too wide. It was also missing the vibrant colors of a pooka, even thought it was at least an inch taller than Stellan’s male form. It’s marking were completely alien, Jack couldn’t recognize them from any of the examples Neva had shown him of pookan ‘station marks’ as they were called.

“I...What?”

The creature growled for the third time.

Another thing the pooka didn't do. They were capable of doing it, Neva did it to scare off mountain lions and other predators when they were hunting, but it was considered savage and extremely uncultured to do it to another person.

“Why are ye followin’ North?” it spat.

“Who?” Jack asked, confused.

“Santa, ya daft gumby! The one in the sleigh ya were just stalkin!”

“That's none of your business! And I wasn’t stalking him,” Jack hissed, standing up and brushing snow off his legs.

“Ya it is, North might be an annoyin’ drongo but ah aight about ta let some some crazy winter sprite ta get ya mah mate,” it shot back.

“I'm not going to attack him, I just need to talk to him!” Jack retorted.

“Not on yer nelly. He doesn't have time fer some no name winter blighter,” it said.

A few months ago, Jack would have winced at the jab at his invisibility, but now he didn't care nearly as much. He had his kits, and that’s all that mattered to him, this stupid rabbit thing could shove his attitude where the sun don’t shine.

“Look here, rabbit, I don’t care what you think, my business is my business, so you can fuck right off,” he spat.

The creature reared up, clearly insulted. He looked like he was about to strike Jack before it looked up suddenly.

Jack looked up as well, surprised to see the aurora borealis in the sky.

“Yer lucky, ah need to go,” the rabbit said, “but if ah ever hear word a ya hangin’ round here again, ya ain’t getting off so easy, ya hear me?”

Jack sneered, “Whatever.” He launched himself into the air, calling the wind to carry him back home.

If that thing was friends with Santa, Jack wasn’t sure he wanted him anywhere near the kits anyway. He’d just have to get a few more gifts and claim they were from St. Nicholas.

Years later, Jack would learn that the rabbit he had talked to was the Easter Bunny. Years after that, he would learn that his name was E. Aster Bunnymund. A long, long time after that, he would learn that Aster was just what his little family had been looking for.

“Jack! Jack, get up!” Savannah yelled.

Jack shot up, staff in hand and ready for a fight. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking around wildly for the threat.

Three startled pooka kits stared back at him.

“It’s Christmas!” Stellan said, quickly recovering from the surprise, “and guess who came!”

Jack schooled his face into fake curiosity. “Who?”

“Santa!” Savannah said, “ Come on Jack! He even brought you something!”

Real surprise crossed Jack’s face. Had Santa actually come? Jack hadn’t had ‘Santa’ bring him anything since he was an adult, so what was she talking about?

He noticed a small smirk on Neva’s face, and when he met her gaze she winked at him and turned to walk out of the Nest into the greater cavern.

Savannah grabbed his hand and ran after her, forcing Jack along. Stellan followed, just as excited as Savannah was. It was cute seeing the normally calm, unflappable Stellan practically vibrating with excitement over the prospect of a holiday. He had been so enthusiastic he even made Jack get decorations for the larger cavern. Jack had come back with boughs of holly, candles, a few old bells, some mistletoe, and even some chips of colored glass that Stellan had smoothed down and drilled a hole into to run a piece of twine through.

Strings of glass were set up all over the caverns, shimmering in the sun and scattering colored light all over the rocky walls. Combined with a large pine tree set up in the back of the cave, it looked quite festive. Parchment wrapped gifts sat under the tree, noticeably more than there had been when the kits went to sleep. A plate sat on a large rock next to the tree, a few crumbs the only evidence of the honeyed bread that the Stellan had set up last night.

“Who goes first?” Savannah asked in accented, slow English.

“Hmm, since you’re the youngest, why don’t you go first? We’ll go in order of age. You, then Neva, then Stellan, then me,” Jack suggested.

“You’re several centuries younger than us, even Savannah,” Neva pointed out.

“I’m going chronologically. I’m an adult of my species, fully grown, you guys are still kits,” he said.

“Ah, alright,” Neva said.

Savannah grinned, darting forward to find a small present with her name written on it. Jack hadn’t started teaching them to read and write English yet since they hadn’t had the time during fall, but he had taught them each their name. She eventually decided on one reading ‘To: Savannah From: Jack’, picking it up and running back to Jack.

She grabbed his hand again, pulling him closer to the tree. He followed obligingly. They all sat in a circle, Savannah once again nestling herself into Jack’s side. She smiled widely at him before carefully removing the paper, keeping it in as big a piece as she could. She pulled out a small stuffed rabbit. It was about a foot long, made of light grey fabric and two little black buttons for eyes.

“It’sso cote!” she said, cuddling it to her chest.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, ruffling her fur.

Neva went next, unwrapping a curved dagger that Stellan had given her. Jack glared at the eldest pooka, who looked appropriately sheepish.

Stellan got a new stand for his vials that Neva had carved with swirling designs.

Before Jack could get up to get a gift, Neva spoke up.

“I made you a stand to hang your staff from. Obviously, I couldn’t wrap it, so it’s in the ship. I’ll go get it after we’re done.”

Jack smiled, “Aww, thanks.”

“That counts for your first gift!” Savannah yelled, jumping up and grabbing another one of her gifts, stuffed rabbit still tucked under her arm.

They all laughed, but let her go ahead.

She pulled the paper off a small parcel the size of her hand. Inside was a small, carved snowflake tied to a long leather cord.

“Whaa?” She said, surprised. She checked the paper and turned to gawk at Jack. She looked down at the necklace in her hand, then back up at him.

“Do you like it?” Jack asked, hesitant.

She nodded, clutching the necklace.

“Jack… Do you know what that means to us?” Stellan asked, concern laced in his voice.

Jack nodded, “Yeah, I do.”

“How?” Neva asked, “I didn’t tell you, and it looks like Stellan didn’t either.”

The lone human chuckled, “No one told me, I found it on The Archive.”

That had been a pain. The translator didn’t work for text, so he had to fiddle with The Archive until he’d found an option for the text to be read aloud. At that point, the translator could work, so he could browse the pookas knowledge at his leisure.

At the time, he hadn’t been looking for anything specific but he had stumbled across an article on the religion the pooka had followed many millennium before Pitchiner attacked. It had briefly mentioned that the main deity had given the love of his life a necklace when he asked her to become his wife (or mate, as the pooka called it).

When the kits wanted to do Christmas, he had searched for gifts and what they meant to the pookas culture and he came across the myth again. This time, he learned that giving jewelry to a pooka was a gesture of commitment.

Typically adults would give each other necklaces and bracelets when they were getting married, but jewelry was also an important gift when a kit lost their parents and was being adopted. It was a promise from the adults to the kit that they would be loved and cared for as if the kit was their own offspring.

Savannah sobbed and launched herself at Jack.

He grunted as she crashed into his chest, putting a comforting hand on her back.

She rubbed her cheeks against his, cuddling close to him as tears dripped onto his shoulder. “Y-you mean it?” Savannah whispered, her voice quivering.

Jack smiled, pulling her back so he could look her in the eyes. “Of course I mean it, Savannah,” he said gently, “I love you, and I want to take care of you. I know I won’t replace your parents, and I don’t want to, but I want you to be happy and have as much of a normal, happy childhood as I can.”

Savannah’s lip quivered and she broke down into tears. “I-I-I l-love y-you too, D-dad,” she said.

Jack smiled and gently took the necklace from her paws, untying it and putting the cord around her neck. With shaking paws, she reached back and tied it in a simple knot.

The snowflake fell to rest against her chest, its lacquered surface twinkling in the early dawn light.

Chapter Text

Febuary, 1778

Jack crouched behind the thick branches of a holly tree. Neva was on the other side of the clearing, but she was also hidden. Their target was slowly coming into view.

A massive bull moose that had wandered down from the north. The villagers had tried to take the behemoth down a few days prior, but they hadn’t met with any success. They had managed to injure its right hind leg, but it had escaped into heavy tree cover.

One man had been hurt, but Stellan set the dislocated arm and treated the cuts. When he had come home the next day he had told the others about the moose, and Jack and Neva made plans to take the beast down.

It was mid February, and their food stores were getting a bit low. Having Colm and Hyacinth go under made it last far longer than if they were awake, but three of the kits were still awake, and they needed to be fed.

The bull let out a loud groan as it walked into the clearly, its hooves kicking up massive amounts of snow.

Jack held his breath as it got into position, oblivious to the danger. He smirked and crouched down, touching his fingertips to the snow. Channeling his magic, he slowly lowered the temperature of the snow around the moose until the loose powder was icy and clumpy. Once he was satisfied, he swiped his hand through the powder at his feet, packing it into a ball. Slowly standing, Jack took two steps to the right until he had a clear line to the massive deer.

Taking aim, he threw the snowball, hitting its head.

It bellowed in surprise and swung its head to look at Jack. Its hackles rose, and it shook its antlers threateningly. A sudden twang and an arrow seemed to appear in the side of its neck.

The force, combined with the surprise of the attack set the moose reeling. It stumbled to the side, and when it turned to look for the second attacker a second arrow buried itself into its eye.

The moose didn’t make a sound, swaying before crashing onto its side.

It didn’t move.

Jack cautiously stepped forward, carefully watching the bull for any movement. When it didn’t react, he walked forward to stand next to its head. He tapped its forehead with the butt of his staff, freezing the brain. When he was done he looked up and nodded.

Neva appeared out of the dead undergrowth, bow in hand.

“That was great, Neva!” Jack said, smiling.

The pooka grinned back. “Tanks, Jack,” she said.

“Now we have to butcher this thing,” he said, nudging the downed bull.

“Fun,” Neva replied.

The winter spirit laughed, “Yep, I’ll go get the canvas.”

Neva nodded, pulling out a large knife from her quiver and beginning to cut into the carcass’ neck. Jack jumped into the air, flying a few hundred yard away from the clearing. He landed at the base of a cliff.

He walked to it, reaching into a large crack a few feet off the ground and pulling out a large sheet of canvas. It was covered in rusty brown stains from previous kills and had a few tears that had been meticulously sewn up.

He and Neva used it to carry meat and various parts of their hunts back to ‘The Burrow’ as Savannah dubbed it a few weeks back. It was made of three thick pieces of cloth that Savannah had sewn together, allowing it to be able to hold about a hundred pounds without ripping. They usually stashed it here while they were hunting, the crack kept it dry and out of reach of interested predators attracted to the scent of blood.

Jack called the wind, allowing her to twist around him and ruffle his hair before she pulled him up into the air, carrying him back to Neva. He touched down at the tree line, scaring a skinny fox that was eyeing the scraps that were cut off the carcass.

The animal let out a loud screech, bounding off as fast as its legs could carry it through the heavy powder.

Jack laughed, attracting Neva’s attention.

“Can you brin’ tha’ oveer here?” she asked. He nodded, beginning to unfold the cloth. Wordlessly, he spread it out next to the moose, and together they managed to move it under the moose.

A few hours later, the moose was properly butchered. The bones and hooves were discarded, and roughly two hundred and thirty pounds of usable meat was resting on the cloth.

“At some point, we need to get another cloth,” Jack said.

“Yes, tha’ would be good,” Neva said.

“Well, what do we want to do? We can pick out the best cuts and take that and come back for the rest, but something could get it while we’re gone. Or we could take it all and hope,” he asked.

Neva hummed, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “All a’ once,” she decided, “We’ve been gone too long.”

Jack nodded, sheathing his staff in the harness Stellan had gotten him for Christmas.

They bundled up the meat in the cloth, and began to trek home.

It took them almost and hour and a half of trudging through ice and snow to get back to the Burrow, and by then the sun had begun to dip down and the sky was a bright, vibrant orange. Once the entrance was in sight they eagerly picked up the pace, equally exhausted from dragging the load for so long. When they stood at the lip of the cavern, they couldn’t see either of their companions.

“Stellan? Savannah?” Jack called.

When neither of them responded, Jack shrugged and they continued their walk up the ramp of the ship.

Once they managed to wrangle the meat into the refrigeration unit in the cargo bay, they sighed in relief.

“Next time, we’re getting Stellan to help,” Jack said, trying to stretch his cramping back muscles.

Neva nodded in agreement, falling into one of the stretches she did before beginning her martial arts practice.

A loud bang suddenly came from the cockpit.

The two jumped in surprise facing the door.

“Stellan, Savannah?” Jack said again, nervous.

“Yes?” Stellan yelled back, voice muffled through the door.

“You alright?” Neva asked.

Stellan said something too quiet for them to hear, and another, higher voice said something in reply.

Neva walked forward and opened the door, freezing and staring inside. “ What the… What did you do?” she hissed.

Jack walked forward. “What’s… Oh my Lord.”

Stellan and Savannah were standing behind the console, both looking obviously guilty.

At their feet, two tiny pooka kits were wrestling on the floor, laughing and growling playfully to each other. They were rolling around, a ball of black and white fluff.

“What did you do?” Neva asked, glaring at the older kits.

Savannah held her paws up. “For once, this isn’t my fault, it’s Stellan’s,” she said, stepping away from the guilty party.

“Thank you for the loyalty,” he said.

“Who’sshat?” a new voice squeaked. Jack looked down. The kits had stopped wrestling and were instead sitting absolutely still and staring straight at him.

He smiled, careful to keep his body language neutral and nonthreatening.

“I’m Jack, what’s your name?” he said.

The kits looked at each other, then back up at Stellan.

When he nodded and smiled at them, they turned back to Jack.

“‘m Larch Imma boy, and this is my sister, Vana, we’re fifty-two cycles old!” the black kit proclaimed.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you two,” Jack said, trying not to laugh at Larch’s enthusiasm, “my name’s Jack Frost.”

The white kit, Vana, gasped. “Savannah’s daddy?”

He chuckled, “Yep, that’s me.” He would never get tired of hearing that.

“You don’t smell like a pooka,” Larch said, his pink nose twitching, “and Savannah isn’t a halfblood .”

“He’s not my birth dad,” Savannah said, “He adopted me.”

“Oh,” the twins said.

“You’re like Aunty Iris!” Larch exclaimed, smiling.

Jack chuckled at his sudden change in demeanor.

“Who’s Aunty Iris?” Neva asked.

“She’s our Daddy’s sister!” Vana said, “she adopted us after Daddy died.”

Larch looked around, looking like he suddenly realized something. “Where is she? I haven’t seen her yet. Is she still asleep?” he asked.

Jack looked up, meeting Stellan’s gaze.

“We’re still looking for your Aunty,” Stellan said, “We haven’t found her ship yet.”

The kits nodded, accepting his answer.

“Can we have a snack?” Vana asked, “I’m hungry.”

Jack nodded. “I’m sure we can find something around here for you to have,” he said.

“I’ll go get an apple or something,” Neva offered. She slipped back through the door and was soon out of sight.

“What’s an apple?” Vana asked. Jack chuckled, he had forgotten just how ignorant the kits were about Earth when they first woke up. The older kits had quickly educated themselves about Earth, its people, plants, animals, and geography, but these little ones knew literally nothing about the planet.

“It’s a fruit, the ones we have are a little bigger than my fist. They’re sweet, and they have a skin that protects the flesh inside. Stellan said that they’re a little like kakimi berries,” he explained.

The little pooka whipped around to look at each other and squealed happily.

Vana tackled her brother, yelling something so fast and high pitched Jack couldn’t understand her. Savannah and Stellan were grimacing, their sensitive ears twitching at the high pitched noise.

“Why is there screaming?” Neva asked, coming back into the  room, apple in one paw, knife in the other.

The twins gasped, charging over to her, gazes fixated on the fruit in her paw.

“Can we have it, please?” Vana begged.

“Let her cut it up, we don’t want you choking,” Stellan said, mirth obvious in his voice.

They pouted but waited while Neva obligingly sliced the fruit into fourths, cutting out the core as well. She bent down, handing them both half of the apple.

They gasped and thanked her, taking large bites out of the crisp flesh. In a minute they had scarfed down most of the apple, and Larch was making serious progress on finishing his second sliced.

“Wow, they sure can eat,” Savannah said in disbelief.

“Where did it all go?” Jack asked, dumbfounded.

Neva shrugged, just as clueless as he was.

“Is there more? I like it!” Larch said, licking the apple juice from his paw pads.

“Maybe after dinner,” Stellan said, recovering.

“Oh! Speaking of which, how did the hunt go, Dad?” Savannah asked, grinning at Jack.

He smiled happily. “It went well, I think we might need another cloth, though,” he said.

Savannah frowned, “Did it rip?”

Jack shook his head, “Nah, it’s fine, but we might want another one just to have it. Just in case the current one breaks or we make a large kill again like the moose.”

“Wassa moose ?” Larch asked, cocking his head. Jack laughed as his ear flopped over, covering half of his face.

He let Savannah explain what a moose was, turning his attention to Stellan. “So, you want to tell me what happened with them?” he asked, gesturing to the kits.

Stellan laughed nervously. “Well, funny story there. I was trying to put away one of the machines when I accidentally knocked a box off one of the shelves. It bounced off the wall and hit the emergency release on Vana’s pod.”

“Good job,” Jack snorted.

“Rude. Anyway, once she woke up, she looked around, and when she realized her brother wasn’t there, she started crying. Savannah heard her crying and come to see what was happening. While I was distracted talking to her, Vana hopped over to the pod Larch was in and opened it,” Stellan explained.

Jack groaned, running his hand through his hair. “Little troublemakers already, aren’t they? Alright, what do we do now? Can we put them back into the pods? We could theoretically feed them through the winter, but it might be tight. I have to continue doing my duties, so I might be able to take some fruit and vegetables while I’m out.”

Stellan sighed, “We can’t put them back so quickly. There’s a period of time where you can’t put someone back in an isopod without risking stopping their heart. It’s different for each age group, I think for little kits like them it’s about a month, but even that it’s recommended to wait for about three months.”

“So, we’re stuck with them, then?” Neva said.

Jack yelped in surprise, not realizing that she had walked up behind him.

“Yeah, at least for a while.”

A while ended up being long past the one month window. The two three-year-olds wormed their way into their hearts, especially Savannah, and when Hyacinth and Colm woke up in late March for the planting season, the two rascals were still running underfoot.

Chapter Text

March, 1778

Jack smiled, leaning against the Nest’s doorway. It was the middle of the night, and all the kits were sound asleep.

They were curled up together, the younger kits snuggling against their elders. Vana was practically on top of Neva, her head resting on the older doe’s chest. Larch was sandwiched between Stellan and Hyacinth, while Savannah and Colm were off in the corner together.

They were all adorable.

Usually, Jack joined them at night, curling up with Savannah and the twins. Tonight, however, he couldn’t stay with them. He had already told them that he would be leaving for a day or two, much to Savannah’s annoyance. She didn’t like it when he left and pouted whenever he had to go. But this time, he couldn’t afford to give in to her begging for him to stay, he had an appointment with another Winter spirit.

The last time he had flown north into Canada he had landed in a clearing to rest and a small girl had appeared before him.

 “Who are you?” Jack asked warily. He may not know much about the spirit world, but he knew that it generally wasn’t smart to trust a spirit of winter, even if he was one himself. The few times he had met up with others of his kind, they had tried to kill ‘the insolent upstart’ as they had called him.

The girl smiled. “You are Jack Frost?” she asked.

“Yes, and who are you?” he replied.

The girl beamed, blue lips quirking upward. She seemed to float over the snow, her long dress billowing as she came towards him.

Jack tensed and pulled out his staff, preparing for an attack.

“I am a match girl, a messenger of the Winter Court,” she said.

“The Winter Court?” Jack said, confused.

She cocked her head. “Do you not know of them? The court oversees those of winter, keeping them in line and preventing them from inciting war with the other Seasonal Courts.”

“What do they want with me?” he asked, wary.

“You are not being disciplined, if that is what you are worried about,” the match girl said, “contrary, you have been invited by the Snow Queen to join her for tea. It is quite an honor for one as young as yourself to be recognized by her.” She reached into the sleeve of her dress, pulling out a letter with his name on the front written in a fancy cursive scrawl.

He turned it over, running his finger over the wax seal. Blue wax was stamped with a peculiar crest that bore a stylized wolf and snowflake held the heavy parchment closed.

“The crest of winter,” the girl said.

Jack nodded, digging his fingernail under the crest and delicately pulling it off the paper. Unfolding the letter, he quickly read through the contents.

“Shall I let my lady know that you are coming?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ll come. How will I get there?” he asked.

“When the time comes, press your hand to the paper. Recite the words written at the bottom and it will take you to the meeting.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, reading over the words before raising his head to ask another question.

The girl was gone, not leaving a trace that she had ever been there. “Okay... that was weird,” Jack said.

 With one last look back at the kits, Jack walked out of the cavern, standing at the edge of the steep mountainside.

He had tried to clean up as much as he could. He had borrowed some soap from Colm, bathing in a nearby river and trying to scrub himself as much as possible. He had also washed all of his clothes, even polishing his old leather cape.

To complete his ensemble, Neva had given him a sheathed dagger. The sheath was a simple leather thing, but the knife itself was anything but ordinary. The blade was made of an incredibly rare material that the pooka called ‘moon crystal’. It was extremely hard and sharp, and it was one of the only things that could kill fearlings and their ilk. He had sworn to only draw it if he was attacked and was out of options. Apparently, only the pooka knew how to make them, and if someone were to recognize the weapon it would be obvious where it was from and might tip off the person to the kits existence.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled the invitation out of his pocket. Unfolding the paper, he pressed his palm against the paper, closed his eyes, and muttered, “Introduc me in tabernaculo suo”. He grunted as the magic seemed to tug him forward, wrapping around him and taking him away.

Jack stumbled as he hit the ground, nearly falling flat on his face.

“Welcome, Frost-sama,” a soft, feminine voice said. He looked up, eyes widening in surprise at the woman before him.

She was petite, obviously Asian with long black hair and skin even paler than his own, to the point where it was almost translucent. She was dressed in a white robe that he vaguely remembered was called a kimono.

“Thank you,” he said, trying to recover his manners. “May I ask your name?”

The woman smiled, blue lips pulling up to reveal teeth that were ever so slightly pointed. “I am Oyuki, the greatest of the Yuki-onna. The Snow Queen sent me to greet you and lead you to her quarters..”

Jack nodded, “It would be my pleasure to join her.”

Oyuki didn’t respond for a moment, looking him up and down. “If you will follow me then,” she said. She led him out of the room and down a hallway. The stone was cool, even by his standards, beneath his feet.

They passed a dozen doors before the Yuki-onna suddenly stopped before one of them.

“She is in here, waiting on the balcony for you,” she said, opening the door for him and gesturing for him to walk inside.

Raising his head, Jack strode through the doorway, into the opulent quarters that must belong to the Snow Queen. Paintings hung around the room, held in ornate gold frames. Two plush couches were positioned around a richly carved table, a vase of glass flowers perched atop it. Off to the side, there was a thick door, that he assumed led to the bedroom. Thick carpets dyed vibrant colors covered the floor in shades of blue and silver.

“She is through here,” Oyuki murmured, leading him through the room to a pair of doors.

She opened them, revealing the Snow Queen. She was dressed in a large, flowing gown, her long silver blond hair pinned in an intricate braid with a diadem resting on her forehead. She was lounging on a small couch, looking over the balcony railing at a small courtyard below. An empty couch, presumably for him, sat across from her. She looked up, a small, practiced smile on her lips. “Ah, you must be Jack Frost. It’s nice to finally meet the new spirit I’ve heard so much about.

Jack returned her smile, walking towards her and dipping into a shallow bow. “It’s very nice to meet you as well,” he said, instantly on guard.

Decades of fighting minor sprites and a few run in with major ones had left him with a good idea of where he ranked in terms of power, but this woman was far beyond anyone he had fought before. Out of all the people he had met, only Mother Nature would outrank her.

If he accidentally insulted her, it would be extremely difficult for him to fight off an attack, nevermind if Oyuki or any other servants intervened as well.

“Please, sit,” she said, gesturing to the unoccupied couch.

He nodded, walking over and sitting down across from the Queen. A third woman, obviously a yuki-onna walked out of the room, a tray carrying two tea cups a large teapot, and pots for cream and sugar in hand.

A moment later, another yuki-onna walked out after her with a small fold out table. The one with the table set it between Jack and the Snow Queen, folding out the legs before stepping back and allowing her sister to put the tray down.

“How do you take your tea, Jack Frost?” the Snow Queen asked.

“One sugar and a little cream,” he replied.

The yuki-onna nodded to herself, quickly pouring two cups of tea before adding cream and sugar to both their cups. When she was finished, she

backed away to stand inside the doorway. His host delicately picked up her cup, taking a small sip before speaking. “You have made quite the name for yourself, haven’t you? The sprites speak of you often,” she said.

“I didn’t know I had a reputation,” Jack said, mind racing. He had killed or scared off more than a few sprites away from the kits over the course of the winter, had he accidentally committed some spirit faux pas?

She chuckled softly. “You have. They speak of a newborn spirit with the blessing of the moon who has power and ability beyond his years. They tell me that you have carved out a rather larger territory for yourself on the eastern coast of North America.”

Jack nodded stiffly. “I have.”

She raised an elegant brow, “And you’ve managed to defend it against any challengers?”

He nodded once again. There had been a few powerful sprites, and even one spirit that had come into Pennsylvania over the course of winter seeking to dislodge him, but he had fought them off.

She sat back, smiling. “Good. Since you have claimed territory, it is my duty as the closest major spirit to introduce you to the Court of Winter. I presume you have at least heard of it?”

“I have. Your messenger told me who you were and what you did, but didn’t go into much detail,” he said.

“Yes, it would not be her place to educate you on the subtleties of spirit politics, but mine as your sponsor. As she told you, there are four seasonal Courts. Our own of Winter and the ones of Spring, Summer, and Autumn. Each court is led by a group of three elder spirits who govern the rest of their compatriots,” she explained.

“Are you a leader of Winter then?” he asked. She nodded.

“Very astute of you. I rule alongside General Winter and Father Frost, no connection to yourself,” she said. “Normally another, less important spirit would introduce you to the Court, and once you knew enough to not accidentally offend someone, you would be allowed to join the Court as a full-fledged member. They would show you how to conduct yourself, tell you of political ties between individuals and groups so you didn’t accidentally start a war, and if you were in good standing, help you develop and grow your magical abilities.”

“That makes a lot of sense, but why did you decide to sponsor me specifically?” he asked, suspicious.

She smiled, “Yes, I admit, I have a bit of an ulterior motive. Sponsoring a powerful spirit like yourself further cements my position in the court. You are far more powerful than any other spirit born in recent history, and I have no intention of allowing another faction to poach you from your rightful place in Winter.”

“Another faction? Are there more than just the seasonal Courts?” he asked, trying to hide the worry he was feeling.

This was bad. He hadn’t been aware just how many powerful spirits there were in existence. He knew that there were thousands of sprites; smaller, weaker, unintelligent magical beings that even Hyacinth could probably take down. There were a few more powerful sprites, griffins, wendigos, banshees, hellhounds, and the like that Jack would have to take down himself, but he had been under the impression that for the most part, the kits would be able to defend themselves against the majority of the spirit world. Apparently, he was wrong.

His host nodded. “Yes, though they vary wildly in size, power, and influence. There are the pantheons of old, the most powerful of which being the Greek gods. Native spirits of the New World defend each other against foreigners, and they have been known to adopt new spirits born in their territory, even if the sprite or spirit is born of a foreign myth, such as yourself. Members of certain magical races band together, satyrs, kitsune, dwarves, djinn and the like. Then there are also informal alliances between friendly spirits, such as the friendship between Loki of the Norse pantheon and Iktomi of North America. Such friends may not come to defend the other if there is war, but in small squabbles, they are more than willing to come to each other’s aid,” she explained.

Jack picked up his cup sat back, taking a sip of tea. Their position was even more precarious than he thought, then. He didn’t have any allies, and based on the interactions he had had with the smarter among the sprites, the Winter Court wouldn’t exactly rush to his defense if he or the kits were attacked.

“I didn’t realize that there were so many of us, or that we were ever around each other long enough for politics,” Jack said.

The Snow Queen chuckled, “Yes, I can see how you would believe such a thing. Many Winter spirits believe the same when they are young. Those of Winter, unlike the other courts, do not have an open court year round. As a spirit class, we are fewer than those of the other seasons, but we are far superior in terms of magic power. We are also, as a general rule, an extremely volatile and violent group. Young Winter spirits, unlike in the other seasons, are preyed upon by sprites, and sometimes a bored elder spirit. Most die by the time they are two centuries old, and the ones who survive are left jaded and scarred by their youth, but more powerful for it.”

Jack took another sip, thinking through the new information. It made sense, based on what he had seen of the other Winter spirits, and it explained more than a few things. He would need to be vigilant if he wanted to keep his family safe, perhaps he should take up training himself in his spare time.

“But such things are unpleasant to speak of, there a great many things that you need to learn,” she continued.

Jack nodded, schooling his expression into one of aloof interest. “I can’t wait, Snow Queen,” he murmured.

His host smiled, “Good. We have much to cover, and not a lot of time to go over it. Oh, and Jack?”

“Yes?”

“You may call me Eira.”

Chapter Text

March, 1778

Two days later, Jack returned from his crash course introduction into the world of spirit politics. He touched down in the cave and immediately his eyes were watering. Smoke filled the cave and he could hear yelling from further back. “What is going on here?” Jack yelled, sprinting towards the source of the smoke.

“We’re fine, we’re fine!” Stellan yelled back, his voice breaking off into a series of loud coughs.

Jack turned around the ship and gaped.

Stellan stood in the charred remains of one of his experiments, his fur stained with soot and the charred remains of his wooden desk behind him. Mixed in with the ash, shards of glass twinkled in the light, the remains of whatever it was Stellan was experimenting with.

“What happened here?” he asked, bewildered.

Larch poked his head around a rock. The kit smiled when he saw Jack, his ears twitching happily. “It went boom!” he said.

“I can see that,” Jack said dryly, “but why did it go boom?”

Larch jumped onto the rock and shrugged, holding his arms out for Jack to pick him up.

Rolling his eyes, Jack walked over and picked up the baby pooka. The kit buried his face in the crook of Jack’s neck, purring loudly.

Rubbing his back, Jack check him for cuts or injuries hidden in his black fur, and finding none, he turned to the eldest kit for answers.

“I need a separate area for my tests,” he began, “but I was working with some chemicals to try to make fuel for some lamps. I was adding the flammable element when that one ran over here, yelling something about hiding from Colm and knocked into me. I accidentally dropped the entire vial into the mixture and it started to smoke. I had time to push him behind that rock and hit the ground, and then the mixture exploded.”

“‘m sorry, Jack,” Larch mumbled into his neck.

Jack sighed, “It’s ok, as long as neither of you are hurt.” He ran his fingers down the kit’s spine. “I think we might need to have a talk about respecting Stellan’s workspace. Both you and your sister,” he said, “but right now I think you owe him an apology for breaking his things.”

Larch nodded, peeking up at the eldest kit and mumbling an apology.

Stellan smiled, stepping close to pat him on the head. “It’s alright, I’m not mad, just please don’t do it again.”

Larch nodded, his fur tickling Jack’s neck.

“Come on, let’s leave Stellan to clean up. We can go find your sister and the others,” Jack said.

“They’re all in the garden,” Stellan offered.

“We’ll go see if they need any help, maybe Colm will let you dig up the potatoes,” he said. The little ones loved digging in the dirt, more than a few times they had come in for dinner with their coats covered in dirt and wet clay. Jack knew that by suggesting that he was guaranteed to spend an hour trying to clean soil of downy fuzz.

After saying goodbye to Stellan and pocketing the translator, Jack walked out of the cave, Larch curled up against his chest. They walked slowly, the constant chatter unusually absent. “Are you alright, Larch? You’ve been really quiet today,” he said, looking down at the ball of fluff in his arms.

The kit shook his head, looking up. “You left,” he said, voice quiet.

Jack sighed, “Yeah, I did.” He had been worried about this. The twins attached quickly and didn’t like leaving his side for more than a few hours. He had been gone for three days in Eria’s domain.

“Why?” he croaked, eyes watering.

Jack stopped, shifting his arms so that he could look Larch in the eyes. “Hey, hey, it’s ok,” he said, “I’m sorry I had to leave, buddy. I had to go talk to another winter spirit for a few days, but I was always going to come back. I would never leave you or the others alone.”

Larch sniffled, “Promise?”

Jack smiled and kissed his forehead. “I promise. After all, what would I do if I didn’t have seven furry babies to drive me insane?”

“Six.” Jack frowned, “Six what?”

“Six babies. Neva’s not a baby, she’s a cadet,” he said.

Jack snorted, “Alright, six babies and one cadet to drive me insane.”

Satisfied, the little kit stretched up, rubbing the top of his head against Jack’s chin. Chuckling, Jack chinned him back. Only the twins and Savannah let him chin them or did it to him. Apparently, it was a gesture of affection between related pooka. The pooka had scent glands on their chins, so rubbing their chin on a relative’s head put their scent on them, claiming them as family or a close friend.

“Are we good?” Jack asked.

Larch nodded.

“Good! Let’s go find the others,” he said. Jumping into the air and ignoring Larch’s squeal of surprise, the Wind carried Jack down the cliff side and foothills. It set them down at the edge of the garden, running through Jack’s hair affectionately before dissipating.

“Dad, you’re back!” Savannah yelled happily, hastily setting down the potted cabbage sprout she had been holding and running over to him.

“Hey, kid,” Jack said, smiling. He shifted the kit in his arms to ruffle her fur affectionately.

“Oh good, another set of paws,” Colm said, “Jack can you help Neva with the onion bulbs? Larch, can you help your sister with the potatoes?”

“Aww, come on Colm, I just got home and you’re already putting me to work?” he pouted.

“ Yeah, come on Colm, can we take a five-minute break? We’ve been working for hours,” Savannah whined.

He sighed, “Alright, just five minutes though, we have a lot to get done today. ”

The younger kits cheered and crowded around Jack while Colm and Neva rolled their eyes.

“Where’d you go?” Vana asked, “we missed you!”

Jack laughed and scooped her up beside her brother, “I missed you too,” he said, “I went to the Arctic circle. Another winter spirit called the Snow Queen asked me to visit.”

“What did she need?” Savannah asked curiously.

“She wanted to talk to me about my future in the spirit world,” he said, “she wanted to make sure that I was joining the Winter Court and that I wouldn’t give my loyalty to another group. I did learn quite a bit while I was there.”

“You said you weren’t leaving!” Larch yelled, pushing against the winter spirit’s chest.

Jack winced at the volume.

“He’s not leaving, Larch,” Neva said, “he's just learning more about the world. Jack wouldn’t leave us, no matter what.”

Jack grinned, “Aww, that’s so sweet, Neva.”

“And he did I’d track him down and drag him back kicking and screaming,” she continued.

Jack snorted. “Wow, and here I thought you were being nice for once,” he said, playing along

with the kit’s sake.

The twins laughed and relaxed in his arms, moving over so that they were cuddling in his arms.

“So, how’s the planting going?” Jack asked. Before he had left, Colm had started transplanting the spring crops that had spent the last three weeks germinating in pots in the cave under artificial lights that Neva had found at the end of march.

She found a small crate full of mechanical parts hidden in the bowels of the ship. At night, when all their work was done, the older kits sat around the dinner fire and pieced them together. After several days of trying to figure out what the parts were for, Colm searched the Archive and realized what they were. Over the course of three days, they pieced together six lamps special lamps that could emit different kinds of light.

Stellan measured the level of light and the temperature of earth and adjusted them accordingly. Colm then set up the lamps around several dozen clay pots that Jack had picked up over the course of the winter that had been filled with soil and seeded. The pots that had been labeled for peas and spinach were all empty, but the rest still had many pots unplanted.

“So, I was thinking a little while ago,” Colm began, “With the lamps, we can grow things out of reach of sunlight as long as the temperature is high enough.”

“Where are you going with this?” Hyacinth asked, curiously.

“Well, what if, after we finish this planting and we have some free time, we start an indoor garden? We could take some of the gunpowder Stellan is working on and blast another cavern into the cave walls. Then during the winter and spring we won’t have to worry about a lack of food because we could just continually grow it.”

Jack nodded, the food reserves had gotten frighteningly low towards the end of winter. The kits weren’t in any danger of starving, having the isopods to retreat to if things got nasty, but malnutrition was a threat to the growing pooka. Being able to grow crops year-round would keep them well fed and maybe even let all twelve of them stay awake.

“That seems like a really good idea. We should do that, but we need to be careful, I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Jack said.

Neva rolled her eyes, a small smile on her lips. “You are such a mother hen, Frost,” she teased.

Jack snorted, smiling at the doe. She had changed so much in the first few weeks that they spent on Earth. She was still grumpy and had a nasty temper, but she wasn’t constantly on guard or snapping at the others for the smallest things. Especially after the first harvest, she mellowed out quite a bit, even letting Savannah sleep next to her some days.

“Hey, I’ve kept you safe so far, so I must be doing something right,” he shot back.

“Except when Hyacinth ripped his leg open last week,” Neva pointed out, “he wasn’t very safe then.” She gestured to the silver buck’s left leg.

“That’s not my fault,” Jack protested, “Hyacinth is six hundred seventy-two years old, he should be able to take care of himself. If he does something dumb it’s not on me.”

Hyacinth coughed awkwardly, rubbing the strip of cut fur on his thigh. The cut was closed with medical stitches that Stellan found in a first aid kit and disinfected with a bottle of whiskey from the local priest. He soaked it in boiled water twice a day to keep it clean, and it was already on its way to healing.

“I never want to see that much blood again,” Colm muttered, shivering.

Jack and Neva snickered.

“What, scared of a little blood?” she teased.

“A little blood? He passed out!” Colm protested, “not all of us went into the army and are used to seeing blood gush out of people’s bodies!”

“Can we stop talking about this now?” Hyacinth said, voice strained.

“Actually, now that I think about it, why were you close enough to Stellan’s instruments to fall on one of them?” Neva asked, smirking.

Hyacinth’s nose darkened several shades, the pookas’ equivalent to blushing. “I… Uh, well…” he muttered, shrinking under the doe’s gaze.

“Did it go boom?” Larch whispered.

Vana blinked, pushing off Jack’s chest to look at her brother. “Boom?” she asked, confused.

“No, it didn’t go boom. Hyacinth just had a bit of an accident a while back,” Jack muttered, not taking his eyes off the unfolding spectacle.

“Can we please not talk about this,” Hyacinth asked, looking to Colm for support.

Colm began to say something before Neva cut him a look. He held up his paws in surrender and stepped back. “You’re on your own,” he said, looking at the other buck.

“Thanks so much, Colm. So much for loyalty,” Hyacinth muttered, eyeing the eldest doe warily.

Neva smirked like the cat that caught the canary. “You’re not getting out of this. Come on, Hyacinth, fess up,” she said gleefully.

“What are we confessing?” Stellan asked, coming out of the trees. He had brushed the soot out of his coat, returning him to his usual blue-gray coloring.

“Stellan!” Hyacinth yelped, his ears twitching wildly.

The older pooka gave him an odd look, obviously confused.

Finally taking pity on Hyacinth, Jack spoke up before Neva could say anything. “Did you get everything cleaned up?” he asked, turning to the new arrival.

Stellan nodded, “Yep. I didn’t try to get the scorch marks off the ground, but all the glass is gone.”

“Scorch marks?” Colm said, concerned.

“It went boom,” Larch replied solemnly. As solemnly as a three-year-old currently buried under another three-year-old could manage anyway.

“Larch accidentally knocked some of Stellan’s chemicals into each other and they exploded,” Jack explained when the kits looked to him for answers. That drew more than a few worried looks.

“It’s fine, nothing too bad happened,” Stellan said, trying to placate the others, “a few vials got broken, but besides that nothing irreplaceable was destroyed and neither of us were hurt. The table was a casualty though.”

“Boom,” Larch muttered.

Jack snorted. “You’re going to be a pyromaniac, aren’t you? I can feel it already.”

The youngest kit looked up at him and blinked owlishly.

“What did you just say?” Savannah asked.

Looking up, all the kits were looking at him, all looking very puzzled. “I said that he was going to be a pyromaniac,” he said.

“What is a pyromanac?” Colm asked.

Stellan frowned and stepped forward, snagging the translator from Jack’s pocket. He looked over it, fiddling with the knobs and buttons. He cursed loudly, slapping his palm against the metal side.

Vana gasped. “Bad word!” she yelled gleefully, lunging forward to point at Stellan. Her paws landed on Larch’s head, drawing a yelp from him.

Jack glared at the eldest pooka, carefully pulling Vana off her brother in the process.

Stellan winced, “Sorry. But this is bad.”

The kits tensed, glancing between each other nervously.

“What’s wrong?” Neva asked.

Jack glanced over the device, trying to make sense of the characters flying over the screen. He could recognize a few words, but what he could read wasn’t good.

“System falcmouitnn , please see eptroora for maintenance,” Stellan read aloud.

Jack frowned. There had been a few times the translator failed, usually because there wasn’t a possible translation, but he recognized the first word, and he knew that it had an English equivalent. “I couldn’t understand part of that,” he said, brow furrowing.

“What do we do, Dad?” Savannah asked.

“I don’t suppose hitting it a few times might work?” he suggested jokingly.

Colm chuckled, ignoring the glare Neva sent him.

“No, Jack, we shouldn’t hit delicate equipment,” Stellan replied, not taking his eyes off the device.

Larch pushed himself up, taking advantage of the loose grip Jack had on him to put his muzzle near Jack’s ear. “Did I break it?” he asked guiltily.

The winter spirit winced, patting the little kit carefully. “It’s ok, Larch. No one blames you,” he whispered.

Vana shifted in his arms, pressing her flank up against her brother. Larch sat back, letting Vana rub her cheek against him. The kits started purring to themselves, a high pitched quiet sound that the older kits couldn’t even make.

“So what do we do now?” Hyacinth asked, “can you fix it?”

Stellan shrugged, turning to Neva. “I don’t suppose you know much about these devices? I know that members of the Brotherhood have to know how to operate one of these, did they teach you how to fix it?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not that model. It’s an older one, most out of use. I might be able to puzzle it together, especially if you help me, but if you rewire those things wrong then they have a tendency to fry their own irsuicct,” she said.

“Great,” Stellan grumbled, “that’s just great.”

“Do you think maybe there’s a manual somewhere in ship?” Savannah suggested timidly.

Hyacinth shook his head. “No way. The company that makes those is extremely protective of their tech. The Brotherhood basically had to strong arm them in court for them to finally release the schematics to them, never mind to the general public.”

“Well, that’s just great. We have to do something, though, we can’t have that thing on the fritz like that,” Jack said.

Stellan shrugged helplessly. “We could try to fix it, but we’d be worried about completely breaking it in the process. No translator and we’ll have to rely on what English Neva knows. We could just continue to use it and hope it gets better, or what we could do is everyone who’s awake now learns English, and you learn Standard, then we try to fix it after we’re reasonably sure we can communicate without it,” he said.

Savannah groaned, “I hate learning languages,” she groaned.

“Suck it up, buttercup. We’ve apparently got a lot of work to do,” Neva said.

Chapter Text

April, 1778

“Ah dunt know,” Savannah said, frowning in concentration.

Jack nodded, turning to the other kits. “How old is Vana?” he asked again.

The kits muttered among themselves, random words in English and Standard thrown around.

“Uh hunderd an ferty fer years old,” Hyacinth said, voice uncertain.

“Yep! Say it after me, a hundred and forty-four years old,” Jack instructed, flashing a smile to Hyacinth.

The kits parroted him with varying degrees of success. He glanced to the translator next to him. After it had broken a month ago back in April he had been working on the kit’s English skills. Neva, being the most fluent, was exempted from the lessons, so while Jack worked with the others she was off doing various chores.

In the beginning, she translated his instructions to the kits, but once they could recognize most things she left to do other things. Because of the large amount of work the gardens required in early spring they didn’t have much time for language practice. Even Savannah’s school sessions had started to be shortened. Not mention, after long days in the sun the kits were often too tired to truly focus on what they were doing. They had tried to combat this by speaking in English while they were working, but after several plants were planted incorrectly and no less than three clay pots had been broken, they decided to hold off until they were more fluent to try again.

Right now, they were working on large numbers. The kits had the smaller single digits down pat, but once it got above a hundred they were little shaky.

“What is eighty-nine plus fifty-seven?” he asked.

The kits quickly did the math using Standard numbers.

Stellan finished first and spoke up. “A hundered an forty sis,” he called out.

Jack nodded again. “A hundred and forty six,” he said.

It was interesting to observe their progress, Jack thought. Savannah, despite her vehement hatred of learning languages, was extremely good at it. She caught on the quickest, but her accent made her speak oddly. Neva had told him that apparently, it was obvious when she spoke Standard as well, and that it was fairly common among pooka that grew up where Savannah was from.

Stellan on the other hand, had the best pronunciation. Jack was pretty sure it was from the hours that Stellan spent repeating what he said to the villagers. The eldest pooka had a pretty good grasp of how to move his lips and mouth in order to make English sound correct.

To no one’s surprise, Larch and Vana made little progress. They still barely spoke Standard, and spent more time asking the older kits what a Standard word meant than learning English.

Savannah had promised that once she mastered the new language more that she would help the younger kits, but for now very little progress was being made there. They weren’t even in this session, they were playing in the ship while Neva worked on butchering her most recent kill. Jack glanced out the Nest entrance, looking at the gleaming metal of the ship.

“Jack?” Savannah said, “we go? Do more?”

He looked back, shaking his head. “Sorry, five hundred and ninety-seven minus thirty-eight.”

“Five hundred an sisty one?” Hyacinth answered uncertainly.

Jack shook his head, looking to the other kits for the correct answer.

“Five hundered an fity nien!” Savannah called out, smiling widely.

“Ohsw fof,” Hyacinth muttered, looking over his math to see where he went off.

Stellan peered over his shoulder, pointing to something written on the slab and muttering something to Hyacinth in Standard.

The younger kit groaned and erased something, rewriting it and nodding to Stellan in thanks.

Jack took note of Hyacinth’s fumble and continued on.

“I’m bored,” Larch whined.

Vana rolled her eyes, ignoring her brother in favor of watching the small earth insects scuttle around. Jack called them ‘ants’ and said that they were harmless as long as they were black. The red ones stung, but the black ones wouldn’t, he had said, so it was ok to play with them.

Neva glanced over to them making sure they were behaving before focusing on the counter again.

Vana reached out, poking one of the little insects, giggling when it panicked and ran around in circles.

Her brother hopped over to her, butting his head into her shoulder. “Play with me,” he whined, leaning on her.

“No, ants!” she argued, gesturing to the tiny creatures.

“Boring,” Larch proclaimed, headbutting her again.

“Stop!” she yelled, turning and jumping at him. They fell to the floor in a heap, paws battering at each other. Larch twisted and dashed off, running behind Neva’s legs.

“Come back!” Vana hissed, charging after her brother.

Neva yelped as she crashed into the older doe’s legs, knocking her forward into the counter. The knife in her paw crashed to the floor, splattering crimson liquid on the floor.

The twins stared at the fallen tool.

“Out,” Neva said, voice eerily calm.

“Wha?” Larch said, looking up at her.

“Get out,” Neva repeated, “go bug the others, I can’t have you two distracting me right now.”

When they didn’t move Neva snarled in frustration. “I told you to get lost!” she yelled, wildly gesturing to the door.

Larch slowly hopped around her legs, looking to Vana for answers. She stared back, instinctively shrinking back from the angry adult.

Once Larch was clear of her legs the twins turned and ran out the door, down the ramp and into the cavern proper.

“Neva’s scary,” Vana said, glancing back into the ship.

Larch huffed, “Neva’s mean. I don’t wanna go learn English, I wanna play.”

She nodded, her ears twitching when the soft timbre of the winter spirit rose in response to something Hyacinth said. The older kits laughed at whatever he said, their laughter muffled by the rock.

“Let’s play outside!” Vana suggested, “hide and seek in the dark!”

“Yes!” Larch yelled, “You’re it!” he bolted out of the cavern and was quickly out of sight.

Vana pouted, but put her paws over her eyes and tucked her ears back before starting to count. “One. Two. Three. F-five? Six. Seven. Nine. Eight. Ten. ‘Leven, Twelve. Thirteen. Fifty. Six ten. Seven. Ate. Nineteen. Twenty. A hundred! Here I come!” Giggling, she hopped towards the entrance, stopping at the edge to look into the forest.

This planet’s moon was brighter than the ones at home. At home the twin moons were dark shapes in the sky, the only way to see them is if they crossed in front of the stars. The constellations were so different, she couldn’t even see the Great Star. A little homesick, she focused back on the game, trying to pick out where her brother had gotten off too. No matter how much she swiveled her ears she couldn’t hear movement, and she hadn’t been counting long enough for him to get out of her hearing range, so he must be hiding nearby.

Vana padded down to the forest floor, checking under a few bushes at the foot of the cliff. “I’m gonna find you!” she yelled. She heard snickering off in the distance so she charged after it, dodging brambles and jumping over a large log in her way.

Her brother was crouched under a fallen limb, dead leaves hiding him from the world.

“Found you!” she shrieked gleefully, tackling him.

“Aww, I thought I found a good spot,” he said, brushing the crushed leaves from his fur.

“Nope! It’s your turn now! Count to twenty!” Larch sighed and dutifully started counting.

Vana whirled around, running away at top speed. She aimed for the gardens, and more specifically, the creek that ran near them. Her white and grey fur was hard to spot against the white stone that lined the creek, making it her favorite place to hide. She barreled through the undergrowth, nearly trampling one of the pea plants when the trees suddenly stopped. Moving more carefully, she wove through the short sprouts, ducking into the creek. She picked her way over the rocks, finding two large rocks that had a small opening between them. Grinning, she pushed herself inside, squirming when her back legs got stuck.

“I’m gonna get you!” Larch yelled in the distance.

A few seconds of wiggling and she finally pulled herself inside, wincing as the rough stone scratched her sides. Vana settled down in the tiny hole, turning around and shifting her paws under her before flattening herself against the damp soil. It smelled of earth and flowing water, and it reminded of the little play burrows her cousins would dig for the twins in spring time.

Her ears twitched as she heard the scrambling of her brother on the rocks. “Vana, where are you?” he yelled.

She giggled. “Found you!” he yelled again, his upside down head suddenly popping into view. The tips of his ears dragged in the dirt, drawing lines in the loose soil.

Vana pouted but obligingly pulled herself out of the crevice.

“How’d you find me so fast?” she whined.

“You always hide in the creek!” Larch accused.

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

She huffed, “Fine, I’ll hide somewhere else. Count again!”

“But it’s my turn to hide,” Larch whined.

“Shh, stop complaining!” Vana said. She turned and darted off, leaving her pouting brother behind. “Dumb Larch,” she muttered, looking around for a place to hide.

In late April the snow had mostly melted, but frost covered the ground in the mornings and there was a chill in the air. Luckily for her, her fluffy winter coat blocked out most of the chill, so she only shivered a little as she walked through the dark forest.

She glanced behind her, looking for the familiar cliffside. The cave itself was difficult to see from the ground, but the rock face was large and easily seen. Vana could barely make out the gray stone behind the leaf buds that covered the trees, but the sight reassured her.

“I’m coming!” Larch yelled from behind her.

Vana launched herself in the opposite direction, dashing into the forest. She dodged brambles and low-lying shrubbery, squeezing under a fallen log and popping out on the other side. She ducked behind the roots, flopping into the leaf litter. Her breath came in quick pants, and she stretched her paws out, letting the pads cool down. She couldn’t hear her brother behind her, so she didn’t have to worry about him finding her while she rested.

Once her flank wasn’t heaving she stood up, shaking her coat out. She looked around, looking to see if there were any good hiding places nearby. Nothing immediately caught her eye, so she began walking away, keeping an ear out for Larch.

“‘S dark,” she mumbled, squinting at the dark shadows that were growing along the forest floor. She wasn’t scared, Jack assured her that unlike her old home, the plants wouldn’t eat her, and she was a pooka kit, she could outrun almost any animal until Jack or one of the other kits came to help her. She glanced up as she walked.

The sky was so clear compared to the city she was used to back home, she could make out thousands of stars and could even see the dusty light of the larger Milky Way. Out of the corner of her eye, Vana saw a bit of smoke rising above the treetops.

Swinging around to face it, she tried to figure out what it was coming from. It didn’t look like the sooty blackness of a forest fire. Instead, it looked like the smoke that came off Colm’s cooking fires.

Vana gasped. “Humans!” she squealed, darting forward. She giggled happily, the game she was playing forgotten. “‘Mma see humans!” she said, giggling as she dashed through the forest. It took her a few minutes to get there, but soon she was crouched under a bush outside the village. It looked like the humans were getting ready to go to sleep, but the children ran around, little wicker baskets filled with dyed eggs in their hands.

Vana tilted her head. Jack hadn’t told her about an earth creature that laid colored eggs, at least none like that. She had seen a robin’s egg once, but the pretty speckled blue was nothing like the psychedelic hues in the eggs she was seeing.

A little child, about the size of a six-year-old pooka, ran by her, dropping their basket at the forest’s edge before racing back to the others. When they and the gaggle of children they had run to were gone Vana crept forward, her nose twitching as she smelled the eggs.

She could smell the dry dustiness of the basket, but the egg’s scent was covered in the pungent smell of the pine needles that lines the basket. Once she reached it she stood up on two legs, reaching down and picking up a pink and green egg. She turned it over in her paw, trying to figure out where the child might have gotten it.

“Osterhase!” one of the humans suddenly screamed.

Vana’s head shot up. A group of about twenty children stood clustered at the edge of the cluster of buildings, all of them staring straight at her. Vana shrank back, ears dropping.

“Du machst ihm Angst!” Another child said, scolding a smaller one wearing a dress.

The young pooka took a step back, her eyes glued to the group.

“Geh nicht weg, Häschen,” the older child cooed, holding out a hand to Vana.

Shaking, she spun around and dove into the cover of the bushes, her colorful prize clutched to her chest. She ran fast and further than ever before, blowing past a startled Larch.

“Vana!” he yelled, running after her. He took a running leap, tackling her.

She went down, flinging out one arm to protect the egg. The pine needles dug into her fur as Larch crouched over her, staring down at his sister.

“What happened?” he asked, nuzzling her.

“The humans saw me!” she wailed, “Jack’s gonna be mad!”

“Vana, Larch!” someone yelled in the distance.

The twins looked at each other guilty.

“Here!” Larch yelled back.

“Larch!” Vana hissed, beginning to panic.

She didn’t want to get in trouble! Her brother didn’t have a chance to respond, as Stellan came through the trees a moment later.

“What are you two doing out here?” he asked, “It’s late, you were supposed to be with Neva getting ready for bed.

Larch rolled off her sister, pawing at the dirt, avoiding the other pooka’s gaze guiltily.

Stellan sighed and walked over picking up both of them. “Come on, let’s go back. The other’s were worried about you.”

Chapter Text

June, 1778

“I think we should wake another kit up,” Neva said one day.

Jack looked up from his salad, raising a brow. That was the last thing he ever expected to hear from her. Usually, she was the one who yelled when one of the others woke up.

“How do you figure?” Hyacinth asked, taking a bite of his turkey. He swallowed and continued. “We’re doing pretty good so far, but the spilsupe will be a bit thin with another mouth to feed.”

Neva nodded, “Yeah, I know, but I think we have to. We have so much to do, between hunting and taking care of the gardens, we’re going to be constantly working, probably long into the night. We’re going to be exhausted, and I’m not sure we’ll be able to get all the work done. I took the liberty of checking the other pods, there’s another kit that's around five hundred and eighty years old.”

Jack did some quick mental math, deducing that this kit was around twelve in human terms.

“It’s late June now, and the spring vahrets just came in. We need to plant for the fall harvest, and then take care of the crops till September or early October, eendpdnig on the weather. We’ll need as much help as we can get, especially with Stellan busy working with his bacteria colonies and Jack and I off hunting.”

Colm nodded, looking surprised at Neva’s sudden change of heart.

“I think you’re right,” Hyacinth said, leaning back against the wall. “We also have to keep watch over those two while we try to get our work done,” he continued, gesturing to the twins seated next to Jack.

The winter spirit chuckled, reaching down and rubbing his thumb over Larch’s head. “Fair point,” he said, “that’ll mean six of the kits will still be asleep, right?”

Stellan looked up at the ceiling, her fingers twitching as she counted. “Yes.”

Jack nodded, “Alright. When do you want to wake them up, Neva?”

“After dinner,” she said nonchalantly.

“How much planning did you put into this exactly?” Colm muttered under his breath.

“I heard that,” Neva growled, “And I thought about it plenty, I just think the faster we get help the faster we can get everything done. There’s still about an hour and a half of light left, we wake them up tonight, explain what’s going on and show them around, then after dark we come back and keep talking. That way they have a chance to think things through before we have to go back to work tomorrow morning.”

“Wow, real slavedriver, aren’t you? They won’t even be here a day and you’re already putting them to work,” Jack joked.

The blue-grey doe rolled her eyes, smirking ever so slightly.

“Are they nice?” Vana asked, looking up at Jack with wide, excited eyes.

“I don’t know, kid, they haven’t woken up yet. We’ll find out when we meet them, though,” he said.

The white kit nodded in acceptance, returning her attention to picking the blackberries out of her salad.

“So, do we know anything else about the kit you want to wake up?” Jack asked.

Neva shook her head, “Just the basics. Vitals are stable, no signs of distress, a bit older than Savannah, female biology, though that doesn’t matter much, at that age keeping a stable form after shapeshifting is hard, a small gash on the upper left thigh, and they’re slightly malnourished.”

“I’ll make up another plate for them, food might help them open up if they’re hungry,” Colm offered.

That got a round of approving murmurs from around the fire, so he took one last bite of his food before standing and making his way to the cooking area.

“Anyway, I was thinking that Stellan and I, being the oldest, should be the one to talk to them first, catch them up on the basics and all that. After that Jack comes in and gives his take on things,” Neva said, “then we give them a tour of the cave, maybe take them to the gardens before we come back and introduce them to the others.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Jack said, looking to the others for their input.

“I wanna play with them!” Larch proclaimed.

Jack laughed, “Maybe tomorrow, alright, Bud? They’re going to be a little busy tonight.”

The toddler pouted and looked like he was about to protest before being distracted by his sister stealing one of his carrot slices. “

Works for me,” Hyacinth said, raising his voice to be heard over the sudden, rambunctious squabbling of the twins.

“I’m ready when you guys are,” Stellan said, setting her plate on the ground beside her and standing up.

“Stellan! I am not your maid, do your own dishes!” Colm yelled from the ‘kitchen’.

The eldest pooka winced, leaning over and scooping up the dishes.

Neva snickered and stood to follow, her bowl in paw.

Jack was about to follow when Larch yelped suddenly, bashing into his leg. The winter spirit grunted and glanced down, hand going to the kit’s back to steady him. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking him over for bumps or scrapes.

The kit latched onto his leg, glaring at his sister who sat innocently in the scattered remains of their dinner.

“Really?” Jack asked.

Vana just kept smiling and went about picking scraps of spinach from her fur, ignoring the high-pitched growls from her brother. Parts of her fur were stained a deep reddish purple, and Jack was sure that if he looked over Larch he’d find the same sweet smelling stains. It was lucky that the twins thought swimming in the river was fun, otherwise, they’d never be clean.

Jack sighed, looking to Hyacinth for help.

The older pooka just laughed, standing and leaving him alone with the kits.

“Why did I agree to do this again?” he muttered, shaking his head.

Larch tightened his grip on Jack’s calf, rubbing his cheek into his pant leg.

“Wha’d you agree to do, Dad?”

Jack looked up, smiling as Savannah walked over and plopped down beside him. “Hey, kiddo. Your headache any better?” he asked.

“Lil bit,” she said sleepily, leaning against him. Her fur brushed his skin, ticklish in its softness.  

Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into the closest approximation to a hug that the pooka would accept.

“Why’s everyone so excited?” she asked, gesturing to the older kits chattering loudly while gathered around the pail they used for dishes.

“We’re about to wake someone up,” Jack said. “Neva’s idea, she wants another pair of hands to help with the planting and harvest,” he explained.

“I like this idea,” the grey kit murmured, “I’m not a little kit anymore, I’m not supposed to spend so much time bent over on all fours .”

Jack chuckled, rubbing her arm. “I know, you’re sore, but it’ll let off after two or three months. Once the harvest comes in it won’t be that bad.”

Savannah groaned, resting her head on Jack’s shoulder. “Is there any food left? I don’t feel like I’m going to throw up anymore,” she said.

“Eat this!” Vana proclaimed, holding up a ripped and dirty lettuce leaf from the floor.

Savannah blinked, “Uh, I’m good. Thanks, though, Vana.”

The younger female pouted, dropping to the floor. She poked her tongue out as she carefully extended her claws and began to rip the leaf into tiny shreds.

“ Vana, don’t play with your food,” Jack said, exasperated.

“’s dirty, it’s not food now!” she proclaimed.

“Why did you try to get me to eat it then?” Savannah asked, bemused.

The toddler shrugged and went back to tearing up the green, completely missing the exasperated look between father and daughter.

Larch peeked out from around Jack’s legs, grabbing a nearby leaf and copying his sister.

“Do you two ever behave?” the winter spirit asked.

“Nope,” Neva said in English, walking over to Jack. “ We’re starting.”

Jack nodded, nudging Savannah to move and standing up.

The grey kit sat back and picked up his abandoned salad, shoving a slice of carrot into her mouth.

“Crazy, all of you, absolutely crazy,” he said.

Savannah ignored him, intent on devouring the remains of his dinner.

“Come on,” Neva said, swiping the translator off the ground and pushing it into Jack’s hands.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said, following her away from the eating area towards the ship’s ramp.

Stellan was leaning against the side of the ship, enthusiastically discussing something with Hyacinth.

Neva cleared her throat, catching the other doe’s attention.

The green and blue kit looked up, grinning at them. “Alright, let’s get this party started,” she said, pushing off the wall.

The three of them walked up the ramp, Jack stopping at the door to the cargo bay, leaning against the doorframe as the two pooka went ahead.

Neva strode over to a pod against the far left wall of the room, gesturing to it and quietly murmuring something to Stellan.

The older pooka nodded, reaching to the control panel and pressing a series of keys.

Jack held his breath as a loud hiss heralded the opening of the pod.

The lid slid away, and Neva stepped back, allowing Stellan to take control of the situation. A loud groan came from the pod and an unfamiliar kit sat up, rubbing their eyes and yawning before looking up at Stellan.

The newcomer was a beautiful silver color, their coat much brighter and shiner than Savannah’s light grey coloring. Their ears were shorter than Savannah’s, and they looked as if the tips had been dipped in the blackest of inks.

“Greetings, how’re you feeling?” Stellan asked, smiling welcomingly.

“Sluggish. Where are we? What happened?” the kit asked, their ears perking up.

“We’re on a planet called Earth. We crashed landed here about a year ago,” she explained.

“Oh,” the kit said, glancing down into their pod.

“Here, do you want me to help you out?” Stellan offered.

“I’ve got it,” the newcomer said, placing their paws on the sides and jumping out.

Stellan’s paw snapped out, grabbing the kit’s arm as they pitched forward. “Careful there, don’t overexert yourself yet,” she said.

The kit shrugged off her paw, standing as tall as they could when they noticed Neva behind her.

“I’m Stellan Rmen, I’m a doe from Homeworld. My companion is Cadet Neva Theren of the Brotherhood.”

“My name’s Dahlia Nicrova, I’m a doe from the planet Bhrune,” she responded, looking between the older pooka.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dahlia,” Stellan said, smiling encouragingly.

“So, where is this planet, are we anywhere near a Hub? I need to contact my parents,” Dahlia said.

Stellan winced, “Yeah, about that… you... can’t”

“What? What do you mean I can’t? You don’t have any authority over me, I have to talk to them!” Dahlia snapped.

“Don’t take that tone with us, kit,” Neva growled.

“Neva!” Stellan interrupted, glaring at the younger doe.

Jack groaned and shook his head. Dahlia had been up for exactly two minutes and they already had a problem with each other. Whatever chance they had to peacefully integrate another kit was rapidly shrinking.

“Don’t yell at me, you’re not my mother,” Dahlia growled back at Neva.

Stellan glanced back at Jack, her eyes wide with worry and surprise. Neva’s reaction was alarming to them both. Everyone knew she had a temper, but this was a bit much, even for her.

“And it’s a damn good thing too. If I was your mother you wouldn’t speak like that to adults!” Neva snapped.

Dahlia scoffed, “Adult? Please, you don’t even have your full coloring yet. And besides, are you even supposed to have those marks?” she gestured to the marks running up Neva’s arm; five deep purple stripes underneath a stylized flower with seven prong-like petals. “You’re a just a Cadet, you’re not a real warrior.”  

The older doe’s hackles rose, and Jack flinched back. Unlike the younger kits that Jack had seen have the same reaction, Neva’s adult coat resembled a rabid wolf than a poofy ball of fluff. Dahlia shifted her stance, bringing her arms forward and tossing her head back.

Jack glanced around nervously, trying to catch Stellan’s gaze to subtly ask what was going on.

The winter spirit was getting pretty good at reading the pooka’s body language after living with them for ten months, but some of their interactions completely befuddled him. Occasionally the reverse was true as well, Jack would signal something or try to convey an idea to the kits and it would go completely over their heads, but it was far less common.

The older doe didn’t notice him, far too intent on the two standing beside her.

Unfortunately, another of the pooka did.

Chapter Text

June, 1778

“What is that thing!” Dahlia yelled. The kit was staring straight at him, ears pinned back in alarm.

“Have you never seen an Tehor before? What do you think he is?” Neva sneered.

“Seriously, Neva? Can you not act like a reasonable adult for five minutes?” Stellan admonished.

“My name’s Jack Frost,” Jack said, smiling. He pointedly ignored Stellan’s scolding and the hostility rolling off Neva, “I’m a native to this planet and I’ve been helping the other kits settle in here.”

Dahlia sneered, “And why do we need your help? The pooka are the most advanced species in existence, and I seriously doubt anyone would let a sgsgdtiuni Tehor anywhere near a kit.”

“I can hit her now, right? I’m going to beat her into the ground!” Neva yelled, advancing on the smaller kit, dodging Stellan’s attempt to stop her. She grabbed Dahlia’s arm, slamming the younger kit against the ship’s hull.

“Look here, you supremacist brat,” she snarled, “I don’t know why you’re being such a little shit, and frankly I don’t give a damn. We have too much to worry about to have you being a nasty little twit, so listen and listen closely, or I will personally shove you back in that pod, cool down time be damned, do you understand?”

Dahlia nodded shakily, startled by the older pooka suddenly yelling in her face.

Jack winced and glanced at Stellan for what felt like the thousandth time.

The eldest of the pooka obviously wasn’t happy with Neva’s actions, and she looked like she was about to step in if Neva actually tried to hit the young kit, but so far she was hanging back.

Uneasy, Jack looked back to the spectacle unfolding before them.

“We are in the middle of empty space, there are no planets within reach of the comms. Stellan is the oldest, all the adults either didn’t make it on the ship or died in transit, and I am the highest ranking in this entire sector, so we are in charge. Our word is law, so if you decide to be petulant, you won’t like the consequences. This planet is currently in its summer season, and in order to survive we have to grow or hunt all our food, any food or medical supplies we had were either destroyed before takeoff or have spoiled. We need every pair of hands we can get to help get food or We. Will. Starve. That’s why you're here.

“You’re going to help us with the planting and the harvest, and if by the end of the season you’ve been more trouble than you’re worth you’re going back into that pod and never coming out, do you hear me! We don’t have time for you to be a spoiled little shit, so you’re either going to get in line and start behaving like a respectable pooka or I will make your life hell, understand me?”

Dahlia nodded rapidly, her eyes watering.

Neva let her go, sneering again at the younger doe before turning and stalking towards Jack.

He nearly jumped out of the way, allowing the angry blue-grey doe to storm out of the ship.

Dahlia sobbed, curling in on herself.

“Dahlia,” Stellan said softly, wincing when the young doe flinched. “I know that this is scary, you barely know what’s going on, you’re on a planet you’ve never heard of, and you don’t know anyone here. Neva was maybe too harsh, but she was right. For everyone’s sake, we need you do act like an adult now. We need your help to get through this, but we need you to be a mature, respectable representative of our species, and if that means you have to grit your teeth and work with a Tehor you have do it so that we can get through this, alright?”

The newcomer sniffed loudly and nodded, avoiding Stellan’s gaze.

She sighed stepping forward and placing a paw on Dahlia’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright, you’ll see. She can be mean and cruel when she feels like it, but she would never actually hurt you. Just stay out of her way for a few days and everything will be fine. Now, Jack and I are going to leave the ship now and go see if we can get her to calm down. When you feel up to it, come down and we’ll see about introducing you to the others and grabbing something to eat,” she said, smiling softly before straightening and turning away.

Taking the obvious cue, Jack stood up as well, sending a sympathetic smile Dahlia’s way before stepping out of sight. He walked down the ramp and was surprised to see Colm and Neva standing at the bottom of the ramp, glaring at each other. He paused at the end of the ramp, waiting for Stellan. “Well, that was a disaster,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“You could say that again! What the hell is wrong with you, Neva!” Colm yelled.

Stellan slammed the controls on the ramp’s supports, and the ship began to close, the ramp’s segments sliding into each other before the two support beams pulled it against the ship’s belly, closing it off. “No kidding, that was completely uncalled for!” she snarled.

Neva crossed her arms and shook her head. “We don’t have time to coddle the brat. If she wants to behave like a little twit I’ll treat her like one.”

“She is a kitten, Neva!” Colm screamed, storming up to the older pooka, getting in her face the same way the doe had done to Dahlia not a minute earlier. “She can’t be more than six hundred years old, and she just lost everything she ever knew! Her family is de-” he yelled.

“Colm, stop,” Stellan said.

The buck whirled around, snarling. “Why should I?”

Stellan glared back and pointed behind the angry buck.

Jack looked back, confused.

Savannah was sitting on the ground, spoon halfway to her mouth.

The twins were in her lap, staring at the older pooka with wide, startled eyes.

“Savannah, take the kits outside to Hyacinth, we’ll come get you when we’re done,” Colm ordered.

Savannah nodded rapidly, startled by the sudden out burst from the usually quiet and reserved buck. She set her soup aside, picking up the twins in both arms and nearly sprinted towards the cavern’s entrance.

When the grey kit was out of sight, Colm turned back to Neva, intent on finishing his tirade. “Her family is dead, and she’s been thrust into a completely new situation before you go and scare the absolute shit out of her! You are supposed to be an adult here, but that doesn’t mean that you can bully a kit into doing what you want!”

“Damn right I’m an adult here,” she said, “and as the ranking military officer, that means that it falls to me to keep everyone in line! I won’t have that brat running around and disrespecting the people here just because she has a superiority complex, especially Jack!”

Colm scoffed, “Oh please, she’s the one with the superiority complex? This isn’t about Jack at all. This is about you, just like you think everything is! You’re the one who decided to get Jack’s help, you’re taking her questioning Jack’s place here as her questioning your authority, and frankly it’s pathetic! Just because you’re insecure about never actually achieving rank doesn’t mean you get to scream at a kitten who’s a little rude! I heard what your entire conversation from the entrance, nothing she said was nearly bad enough to warrant that meltdown! How do you think that would have helped, huh? She’s going to be scared for days and then resent all of us for making her do things she doesn’t want to!”

Neva snarled, “And you think she would have listened if I hadn’t done that? Do you honestly think you could have gotten that spoiled little princess to actually be useful?”

“Yes! A thousand times yes! There are so many ways that you could have done that better, but you decided to go and throw a tantrum, so now we’re going to have to spend weeks trying to repair the damage!” Colm bit back.

Neva opened her mouth to retort.

“Enough!” Jack yelled, silencing the pair. “This isn’t helping anybody. Neva, Colm, go do something, anything as long as it’s away from each other. We’ll deal with this later, when Dahlia comes down we’ll talk then. Until that happens, we can’t do anything about it, and yelling at each other isn’t helping.”

“Fine,” Neva ground out, turning on her heel and marching out of the cavern.

“Stupid, arrogant, prideful little-”

“Colm!”

“Am I wrong?”

Stellan, ever the level-headed negotiator held up a hand. “Come on, we have chores to get done. Let’s get the dinner dishes finished, we can complain about Neva’s temperament later.”

The brown buck sighed in annoyance, but let Stellan lead him away from the ramp and further into the cave.

Jack groaned, picking at the loose threads on his shirt hem. That had been insane, but he couldn’t be too surprised. It had been a miracle all of the kits up until now had been mostly even tempered and well adjusted, he was honestly surprised none of them had shown any obvious signs of trauma from the fearling’s attacks yet. He couldn’t tell yet if Dahlia’s reaction to seeing him was brought on by the attack, or if she was just not a very pleasant person to begin with, or maybe even some combination of both, but Neva’s reaction certainly wouldn’t help her disposition.

A few hours later and night had fallen. All of the kits had gone to bed in the Nest, even Neva and Colm, though they pointedly laid down as far from each other as they could.

Jack, however, needing the least amount of sleep, was propped up against the mouth of the cave. His staff was laying across his lap and the translator in his pocket while the wind whistled by him, ruffling the messy white strands.

Savannah had originally tried to keep vigil with him, watching over the sealed ship. However, after Hyacinth came back from the forest and turned in for the night Jack shooed her off to bed. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow in the gardens, she needed her rest.

Besides, he knew it was only a matter of time before the ship opened and Dahlia came out, likely trying to either steal some supper or sneak away from the cave.

Jack hoped it wasn’t the latter, it really wasn’t safe for the kits to wander around alone. Not only were the humans a threat to them, but if a powerful spirit became interested in them Jack wasn’t sure he could fight them off. None of the winter spirits would try anything on his domain, not with the Winter Queen backing him as his mentor, but the other seasonals wouldn’t have any qualms about being none too gentle with his kits.

Jack looked up at the Moon. “Are you going to say anything now?” he said, glaring at the sky.

The Moon didn’t respond, it just continued to glow faintly, illuminating the forest below.

Jack huffed, leaning back and closing his eyes. He fell quiet, listening closely for any sound from the ship. It wasn’t long, only about fifteen minutes before Dahlia made her appearance. The ship began to whirr, and the ramp began to lower.

Jack opened his eyes, watching.

The metal panels stretched out, touching down in the groove worn into the stone from the constant raising and lowering of the ramp. Dahlia didn’t immediately come out, seemingly having retreated further into the ship. A minute later, she poked her head out of the docking area, looking around.

Jack had chosen his seat carefully, and he wasn’t immediately visible from the ship, Dahlia would have to come down before she could see him. The silver kit nervously immerged, pausing halfway to the ground to look and listen for people. Jack held his breath, well aware of the pooka’s sharp hearing. When she reached the bottom, he stood up and cleared his throat. Dahlia whirled around to face him, eyes wide in surprise.

Jack held up his hands in surrender. “It’s just me, all the others are asleep in the Nest.”

Dahlia nervously looked between him and the entrance to the Nest, shrinking in on herself when she noticed the inky purple of Hyacinth’s coat hidden in the darkness.

Jack smiled disarmingly, careful to keep his body language passive and non-threatening. “Hungry? You’ve been up there a while, and somehow I don’t think you got past the locks on the food store,” he said, gesturing to the ship.

Dahlia bit her lip and nodded.

The winter spirit chuckled, “Come on, kid. We have some soup left over from dinner, or you could have some fruit. I think we still have some dried persimmons unless Hyacinth got into them again.”

“Soup,” Dahlia said quietly.

Jack smiled encouragingly. “Sounds good. Colm’s become a pretty good cook, despite the lack of ingredients. The ‘kitchen’ is on the other side of the cavern, I’ll show you, alright?”

When the nervous kit nodded Jack took a step forward, carefully watching her posture. He walked past her, going around the ship’s front end to the smoldering remains of a cooking fire. Beside the ashes was a large metal pot, one of the few containers they had of pookan origin. Next to that was a stack of wooden bowls that Neva carved over the course of the winter.

Jack pressed down on the lid, twisting it around before pulling it up. “The twins are obsessed with this kind of soup,” he explained, keeping the soothing tone he used when trying to approach wounded animals, “they love it so much that we’ve begun to use it as a reward if they behave. Still, after dinner we have to put it up otherwise they’ll get up in the middle of the night to try to get more of it. The first time we made it in a big pot, Vana tried to take a swim in it. She said that she was just trying to get the ‘scoopy spoon’ so they could have a bowl, but I’m not sure I believe her, considering when we found her she was gulping it down from in the pot.”

That earned a quiet snicker from Dahlia.

Jack smiled, setting the lid aside and grabbing a bowl. He grimaced at the steam coming off the soup, but he still reached inside to pull out the ladle. Carefully, he poured the steaming liquid into the bowl, scooping out another ladleful. He continued until the bowl was full, then he turned around. Dahlia was standing a few feet behind him, watching him fill the bowl. “Here, sweetheart,” he said, holding out the bowl. She reached out, accepting the food from him.

“Do you have any spoons?” she asked.

Jack nodded, walking past her towards the eating area. In the middle of the circle of cloth ‘chairs’ was a wicker basket filled with wooden utensils. Jack grabbed a small spoon and a fork from the pile and gestured for Dahlia to come over.

She walked to him, accepting the utensils but looking oddly at the fork.

“Savannah helped make the soup,” Jack said by way of explaining, “and she forgets to chop the vegetables small enough sometimes, so you usually need a fork if she helped.”

He turned and sat down on one of the patches of cloth, looking up at Dahlia expectantly.

The kit hesitated for a moment before taking a seat across from him.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I’d like to tell you our story if you’d let me,” he said.

When Dahlia nodded he began.

“I met the other kits last September, about ten months ago. I’m a winter spirit, and ‘immortal’ I think your kind calls us. I was flying around one night and I saw what I thought was an asteroid. I followed it as it fell to Earth, and I was pretty surprised to find that it wasn’t a giant space rock, but a spaceship. You see, technology here on earth is still pretty primitive, I didn’t even know what electricity was past lightning and the occasional storm spirit. I didn’t know what it was, so when it finally crashed into a field I went up to and managed to get the ramp to lower. I walked inside and accidentally woke Neva up, though I didn’t realize it. I walked into the cockpit and I found the pilot dead in her chair. While I was distracted, Neva had woken up Stellan and came up behind be with a knife. Eventually, Stellan found a translator and Neva let go of me. They explained what you guys were and your story with Pitchiner and the fearlings. I agreed to help you guys get to safety because the mortals that live on this planet are pretty religious and probably would have thought you were demons. We woke up Hyacinth and Colm to pilot the ship, and he drove it into this cave before morning came. We’ve been camping out here ever since, and you guys can’t exactly leave, not with the viewport like it is.”

“Why did you help us?” Dahlia asked, confused, “we’re not the same species, you don’t have any obligation to help us.”

“Sure I do,” Jack retorted, “there are fourteen of you, some of which, like the twins, are really little. What kind of monster would I have to be to leave you alone?”

Dahlia went quiet, her brow furrowed in confusion. “I still don’t get it,” she murmured, “Momma said that Tehor wouldn’t help pooka unless they had something to gain from it, but what do you gain from helping us?”

Jack blinked. “Did your mom ever meet a Tehor like me before?” he asked.

She paused for a moment before shaking her head.

Jack smiled, “Maybe your mom was right about other species, but I just wanted to help a bunch of kids in need.”

Dahlia looked stunned, but Jack continued on with his tale.

“We set up as best we could with the supplies that were in the ship or we could trade for in the human villages. Colm started a garden and Neva taught me to hunt while Stellan and Hyacinth worked on finding which foods were safe for you guys to eat and medicine for whatever injuries we picked up.”

The kit nodded along absently, intent on devouring her soup as quickly as possible.

“Colm decided that he needed more help with the gardens than Hyacinth and I could give him between hunts or experiments, so he woke up Savannah to help him. Neva got mad at him, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as earlier.”

“Did you wake me up without asking her?” Dahlia asked, “is that why she got mad ?”

Jack shook his head, “No, it was actually her idea. You just got under her skin so fast that she blew up. She has a pretty bad temper, so goading her isn’t exactly the best thing to do if you want to stay on her good side.”

The silver kit snorted, “Why would I care about her? It doesn’t matter to me what that ihbitc thinks.”

Jack smiled sardonically, “Kid, you’re going to be stuck with her for a pretty long time. I’m not saying you should make friends, I don’t think the two of you will ever be all that fond of each other, but you might want to at least be civil. Neva can be a vindictive ihbitc if she wants, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Dahlia frowned unhappily, but Jack took her lack of protest as a good sign. “If it really turns out to be too much for you, in October after the harvest has finished up you can go back in the pod for a while. We need your help right now, but after that, it’s your choice what you want to do. You could sleep through the winter so you don’t have to stay in close quarters with us, and then wake up in spring or you could stay under until the labor-heavy months come back and we’ll be more spread out. I guess if you really hate it here you could stay under for a few years until everything is more settled and Neva has a chance to grow up a bit, but I’d hope that it won’t come to that.”

She dipped her spoon back into the bowl, stirring the liquid thoughtfully for a few moments. “What do you need help with?” she asked eventually.

Jack grinned encouragingly, “Well, mostly the gardens have to be weeded and watered constantly. The most of the planting happened a month or two, back in mid-April and early May, but a few plants don’t start their seasons until mid to late July, about two to four weeks from now. The last of the spring harvest also has to come in, which is what Colm will probably have you doing. Mostly you’ll be picking the ripe crops and putting them in baskets that I’ll fly back to the cave. Stellan will deal with preserving and storing the food, so all you’ve got to do is pick the food. It’s completely up to you how much you want to interact with the rest of us.”

“You keep calling everyone here ‘us’, how many pooka are here exactly?” Dahlia asked.

Jack chuckled, “Well, there are fourteen pooka in total, plus me. There are eight awake right now, Stellan, Neva, Colm, Hyacinth, Savannah, Larch, Vana, and you. The other six are still asleep. They’ll have to stay that way for a while, though. All of them are younger than you, and we wouldn’t be able to feed or care for them now.”

The young pooka’s brow furrowed, ears drooping as she looked at the ground. “What’s going to happen to us?” she whispered, speaking so quietly Jack could barely make out her words.

Jack sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I wish I knew, kid. I’m trying my best to keep you guys safe and healthy, but I’m not going to lie, it’s hard and we’re barely getting by. We can’t get a hold of the rest of your kind, and right now isn’t the safest time for you to have landed here. The mortals are gaining power, developing weapons and new tech, while the other immortals are lashing out as our power is waning. Not to mention, most of you are too young to be able to shapeshift and integrate yourself into human society. Once you age up a bit things will be easier, but that’s at least another century or two away.”

“I’m scared,” Dahlia admitted, biting her lip.

Jack sighed, “I know, things don’t look that great right now, but I’ll tell you what I told the rest of the kits earlier. I adopted Savannah as my daughter back in December, and do you know what I told them then? I told them that now, we were family, and you don’t abandon family. I swore that I would protect you, all of you, until my dying breath and I have no intention of breaking that promise.”

Chapter Text

August, 1778

"What the heck was that for?” A shrill voice screamed.

Jack stopped, groaning and shaking his head. “Oh, Lord. What’s going on now?”

Savannah giggled, “Crazineice.”

“Sounds about right,” he sighed, “let’s go save whoever did something dumb.”

“If ets Dahlia ah get yer dessert,” Savannah chirped, grinning widely.

Jack rolled his eyes, “No you don’t. Nice try, kid.”

She pouted and pressed up against him, her eyes wide. “Plleeeaaasse, Dad?” she whined, nudging him with her shoulder.

He looked down at her, unimpressed. “That’s not how bets work. The other person has to say yes,” he retorted, “also, stop shoving me.”

Savannah blinked up at him, “Ah dun’t understand. You says yes, right?” she asked, smiling.

Jack rolled his eyes, reaching over to flick her forehead. “Don’t play innocent with me, I know you understood what I said.”

“Ow,” Savannah said, pulling back and rubbing her forehead.

Jack smirked and reached over his shoulder, pulling his staff out of it’s holder and jumping into the air. The wind picked him up and threw him into the sky, blowing him over the treetops into the air right above the cave. Jack flew down, carefully touching down on the edge of the cave.

Colm and Neva were standing together near one of the walls. Colm’s ears were pinned back and the buck’s nose had darkened several shades, his back pressed against the wall. Neva was standing in front of him, her arms crossed and a smirk on her lips.

“What happened, why did someone yell?” Jack asked, looking between the two pooka and putting away his staff. No one looked like they were hurt, but with Neva around that didn’t mean much.

“Holy shit that was great!”

Jack turned around, noticing Dahlia at the other end of the cavern half hidden in a circle of large baskets. The newest kit was doubled over, cackling with laughter.

“Quiet, you!” Colm yelled, embarrassed. The buck glared at Neva, growling when the doe let out a quiet snicker. He ducked around her, running towards Jack and crouching behind him.

“What did you do?” Jack asked, looking at Neva.

“Ask Colm,” she said with a smirk, turning and walking up the ramp and into the ship without another word.

“What the heck?” Jack said, completely confused.

“Dad!”

Jack turned around, sending an unimpressed look to the kit hiding behind him.

Savannah ran up into the cave, panting. “Wha ‘appened?” she asked, breathless.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Jack replied. Dahlia once again started cracking up, doubling over with raucous laughter.

“That was great!” she crowed.

“Nobody asked you, Dahlia! Are you done with those damn vegetables yet?” Colm yelled, his nose twitching in indignation.

“Ah am so cunfuzzed,” Savannah stage whispered.

“You and me both,” the winter spirit said. Dahlia’s laughter died down to a loud giggle, ignoring the heated glares Colm was sending her. “...Anyway, we’re done with weeding. What do you need us to do now?” Jack asked, turning to Colm.

The buck straightened up, coughing a few times to compose himself. “Well, when Dahlia is done organizing the stuff that was in those baskets I need you three to go harvest the rest of the cucumbers. That is, if you can handle it,” he said, glaring at the giggling Dahlia.

“I’ve gotta admit, the icitch has some moves!” she proclaimed.

“You know she has a name, right?” Jack said, rolling his eyes.

“I thought that was her name, silly me,” Dahlia chuckled.

The winter spirit sighed, reaching out to Savannah and pushing her towards the other kit. “Go help her, I’m going to talk to Colm,” he said. She nodded and skipped off towards the baskets. “What did Neva do?” Jack asked quietly.

“What makes you think she did something? She didn’t do anything. Nothing happened. Nothing at all,” Colm said, avoiding his eyes.

“...You are a terrible liar,” Jack said, “do you want me to talk to her? I don’t want her making you uncomfortable.”

“No! It’s fine, please don’t talk to Neva,” he said, blushing.

Jack eyed him doubtfully, but didn’t press the issue. He just put a hand on Colm’s shoulder before following Savannah further into the cave.

Dahlia was pressed against Savannah, whispering something into her ear. The younger kit looked shocked, one paw clasped over her mouth in surprise. “Really? Dang, Neva!” she giggled. Dahlia smirked, pulling back.

“Alright, girls. Gossip time’s over, time to get to work,” Jack said, grinning.

“Aw, come on Dad, can’t we do both?” Savannah whined, pouting at him.

The winter spirit rolled his eyes, reaching out and ruffling her head fur. “Why don’t we leave poor Colm alone? You can gossip about someone else, but I think he’s had enough for today, alright.”

“Fine. Neva then?” Dahlia suggested.

Jack groaned, “On second thought, maybe we shouldn’t gossip.”

She pouted, but was quickly engrossed by a story about the human village that Savannah launched into.

Jack smiled, reaching into the basket of cucumbers. The large ones were tossed into a large iron pot to be prepared for food while the smaller were put into a clay pot to be stored for next year’s planting. He listened to the girls chatter away, occasionally interjecting, but was happy to let them be.

Savannah’s happy go lucky attitude and general cheerfulness counterbalanced Dahlia’s prickly and aggressive nature easily. As soon as they met they were attached at the hip, much to the relief of everyone. Whenever Dahlia looked like she was about to blow up, Savannah would distract her with some random thing she found or a silly story. Overall, things were going much smoother than they expected, ignoring the random temper flares that happened whenever she and Neva were in close quarters.

“Why are you smiling, Dad?” Savannah asked.

Jolted from his thoughts, Jack looked over at her. Dahlia and Savannah were both looking at him in confusion. “What, can’t I just smile? Maybe I just like hanging out with my lovely daughter,” he teased.

Savannah blushed and ducked her head in embarrassment, but he could see the happy grin on her face.

Dahlia glanced away from them, her face falling.

The winter spirit winced. He knew that the newest kit missed her family, even though she hadn’t mentioned them after her initial demands to be taken to a Hub, he knew she desperately yearned for them. All of them had accidentally walked in on Dahlia crying or her parents at least once, and not even Neva had either the courage or the heart to tell her about their likely fate. In Stellan’s words, even if they had survived, they were almost certainly dead.

“We’re not immortal,” he had said one day, “We’ve been asleep for so long, unless there’s another ship out there with isopods on board, all our families are dead. There’s no way to know about our species as a whole, but I wouldn’t put much faith in their survival either.” The eldest pooka started sobbing after that, and avoided both Jack and the other kits for the rest of the day.

“So, Dahlia, how’s your shoulder? You said the other day it was bugging you, right?” he asked.

“It feels better now,” she said, “Stellan gave me this weird smelling tea that Savannah made and it didn’t hurt anymore.”

Jack smiled, “That’s good, just be careful from now on, alright, hun? I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

She nodded, and Jack counted the small smile on her lips as a victory. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you this, Savannah, but I kept forgetting. After I had that tea I felt really hot and my throat was a bit scratchy. I don’t know if that was just a side effect or if I’m allergic or something, but that happened.”

Savannah pouted, “Aww, and here I thought I made it right. I’ll make somebody else have it, see if they have the same side effects.”

“I could do it,” Jack offered.

“That wouldn’t help, silly! You’re not a pooka, and we already know that humans can eat the ingredients! That won’t help us,” she exclaimed.

“Well, alright then. I guess I’ll just let the experts handle it, then,” he said sarcastically.

Savannah smirked, putting her hands on her hips and tossing her head. “Good. I’m the expert on everything. You should always consult me before doing anything,” she said, smirking.

Jack rolled his eyes, leaning over and flicking her ear. “Brat.”

Savannah giggled, ducking behind Dahlia. “Save me, Dahlia! He’s being abusive!”

She snorted but dutifully stood between them.

“Real mature, hiding behind Dahlia,” Jack teased. Savannah stuck her tongue out at him, grabbing a cucumber and waving it at him threateningly.

“You are so weird,” Dahlia deadpanned.

“Am not!” Savannah retorted.

“Yes, you are,” Jack said.

Savannah pouted, “At least my cucumber loves me.”

Dahlia and Jack looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

A deafening screech suddenly sounded throughout the cave, it’s shrill wailing causing the two pooka to clap their paws over their ears.

“What is that!” Dahlia screamed.

“I don’t know!” Savannah yelled back. Neva burst from the ship, her eyes wide in fear. The alarm cut out as suddenly as it started, leaving the deafening silence in it’s wake.

Neva sprinted over to the three of them. “Jack, we have a problem!” she yelled, skidding to a stop in front of them.

“What was that alarm? What’s going on?” Jack said, bewildered.

“It’s hard to explain in detail, but basically it senses foreign magic,” she explained, “When it goes off like that it means that a either a magical being or object has entered the vicinity. Then, if it can, it locates it and classifies the magic under the Standard Ranks of Magic, ranking it from F to SSS based on either it’s power or destructive capabilities.”

Jack tensed, and he could see girls flinch behind him. “Where is it? And what do these rankings mean?” he asked, reaching behind him and pulling out his staff.”

“Ten miles to the southeast. I don’t have time to explain what the exact ranks mean, but let’s just say that you are a low A, and whatever this is it’s at a mid-S range, which is a rank up from you,” she explained hurriedly.

Jack grimaced, fiddling with his staff. He hated dealing with spirits that were more powerful than him, they were always haughty and arrogant, and if anyone offended them they had a tendency to try to kill the person. “OK, so it’s stronger than me. What do we do about it? If it’s dangerous I might be able to get the drop on it and get a few hits in before it notices me and starts to fight back,” he said.

“I heard the alarm, what’s happened?” Hyacinth yelled, running into the cavern. Stellan was right on his heels, the usually put together buck looking rather frazzled. The pair rushed towards them, and a moment later Colm appeared at the entrance, the twins in his arms. He disappeared into the Nest and Neva turned to focus on Hyacinth and Stellan.

She quickly told them everything, and judging by how quickly the two bucks paled, their situation was worse than Jack was imagining it.

“Shit, what do we do? Is it coming towards us?” Hyacinth asked.

Neva shrugged helplessly, “I don’t know, the sensors don’t tell us that.”

“I’ll go check it out,” Jack said, determined, “It might just be passing through, it might not even know we’re here.”

“No way you’re going on your own,” Stellan interjected, “Jack, S rank magical beings are extremely powerful. The bottom tier ranks don’t have that much of a jump between them, but there’s a massive gap between A and S. Not to mention, when Neva said that you were a low A, she really wasn’t kidding. You barely qualify, but this thing is very firmly in the range for an S, there’s going to be a massive power difference.”

Savannah whimpered, pressing herself into his back. “Don’t go, Dad. We can just wait here, and maybe it’ll go away,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Jack’s face fell. “Savannah…”

“I’ll go with him.”

Jack looked up at Neva in surprise. The doe had a firm scowl on her face, and her arms were crossed and turned in just the right way to flash her markings.

“I’m the only one here to have real military training, and Jack needs backup in case things get ugly. I’ll take a soldier pill and follow behind him. If it turns out the thing is aggressive and Jack can’t get away I’ll eat it and jump in.”

The kits looked between each other uneasily, but Neva didn’t seem to notice, just looking straight at Jack.

The winter spirit sighed. “Alright. Let’s go check it out.”

She nodded determinedly, running towards the ship and disappearing inside. A minute later and she came out with a pair of gauntlets in hand. She paused at the bottom of the ramp, pulling on the gauntlet things before tightening the straps and checking a small pocket on the right sleeve. When she was satisfied, she nodded towards Jack.

The winter spirit jumped up, using the wind to jump over the kits and the ship to land at the cave’s entrance. Neva came up beside him a moment later, a snarl on her face. She dashed to the bottom of the cliff before taking off at full sprint towards the spirit. Jack took off after her.

The pooka wove easily through the trees and the brambles, but Jack was impeded by the tree branches, so he was forced to go a bit slower, else he risked smacking into something. Luckily for him though, he had spent the past year flying this forest, so he knew the best route to fly.

Neva slowed down after about fifteen minutes, dropping from a flat sprint to a more loping run. Jack lowered his altitude until he was a few feet above and to the left of her. “Ha ve’re... ha nearly zere,” she said, panting with exertion.

Jack looked up, noticing grey smoke rising above the treetops. With a jolt he realized where they were. “It’s in the village,” he said, paling.

Neva nodded, her face stony.

When the first house peeked out from the trees they stopped. “Can you tell where it is?” he whispered, touching down beside the pooka. He could see a few humans walking around the street, but luckily it looked like most of them were in the fields on the other side of town.

“Ja, zhat vay,” she said, gesturing to the east.

Jack nodded, “Alright. You stay here, I don’t want them to see you if they aren’t aggressive. I’ll yell if things go south.”

Neva obviously wasn’t pleased by the idea, but she nodded in affirmation.

Jack grinned at her, putting a hand on her shoulder. He turned to the woods, carefully picking his way towards the spirit. He quickly lost sight of Neva in the thick brambles that grew along the edge of the village. Jack adjusted his grip on his staff, keeping his eyes and ears open for any hint of the other spirit. When he was about two hundred yards away from Neva he heard something.

A light shuffling and quiet muttering that was coming from behind a large bolder. Bracing himself, Jack walked around the side of the rock. “You!” he yelled, startled.

The rabbit creature honked in surprise, whirling around. It was the same thing that had attacked Jack when he had been trying to talk to Santa. “What are you doing in Pennsylvania?” Jack said, bewildered.

“Me? Ah’m supposed to be here, unlike ye! Ah dunno if anyone told ya, but it’s summer ya daft gumby! Ya ain’t supposed ta be here anymore!” it spat back.

“I live here! You’re the one who’s not supposed to be here!” Jack yelled.

The thing sneered, “Sure ya do, ya look like ya haven’t seen a place to kip in a few hundred years. Look ya little shit, ah’ve gotta look into something here, so ya best bugger off.”

“Like hell I will! You’re in my territory you over grown prairie dog!”

“Prairie dog! Ah’m the Easter Bunny ya drongo!” it said.

Jack sniffed, “Are you sure? You look more like a mole rat than rabbit.”

The Easter Bunny bristled, “Excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” Jack said.

“Ya little shit!”

“Jack!” Neva yelled.

Jack and the Easter Bunny jerked around towards the sound. “I’m fine, it’s just the Easter Shrew!” he yelled.

“Ze vhat?”

“The what!”

“Go back home, I’ve got this,” he continued.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, go make sure nobody’s set anything on fire,” Jack called.

“Who’s over there?” the Easter Bunny yelled, stepping towards Neva’s voice.

The wind immediately slammed into him, knocking him back. Jack stepped into his path, “Don’t you dare,” he snarled, gesturing threatening with his staff.

Behind him he could hear the rustling of leaves as Neva left.

“Ah dunno what yer up ta, but ya best git. Ah’ve got work ta do, and ah dun need some winter sprite with a death wish in mah way,” it said.

“No. I just told you, this is my territory, and I don’t want you here. You can sulk behind a rock somewhere else,” Jack hissed.

The Easter Bunny shivered as the ambient temperature dropped several degrees.

“You will leave now,” he said, urging frost to spread over his staff for dramatic effect.

The Easter Bunny eyed him, clearly sizing him up. Jack wasn’t sure what to expect if it decided to call his bluff.

The scanner had said that it was stronger than him, but he couldn’t fathom what type of offensive magic the Easter Bunny could possibly have. From what he knew, the Easter Bunny, or Osterhase as he was known in German, delivered colored eggs to children in the Germanic states, so what could it possibly do? And why was it in America?

The Easter Bunny growled and leaned back. “Ah’ll be outta yer hair in a minute, but ah have to look into something and ah won’t leave till ah have.”

“You have one hour. I’ll be watching,” Jack bit, jumping into the air and ordering the wind to set him down on a sturdy pine branch.

The Easter Bunny grumbled a btit, but eventually it ignored Jack, setting out to do whatever it was it needed to do. Jack periodically send cold blasts of air in its direction, looking around innocently when it growled at him. It got it to leave faster though, it was only there for about thirty minutes before it opened a magic tunnel and disappeared.

Jack looked around, bewildered, and tried to look for the entrance to the tunnel. When he failed, Jack shrugged, bemused, before jumping into the air. Without the burden of having to hide from a mysterious spirit, Jack made the trip back to the Burrow in five minutes. When he touched down he was immediately bombarded with kits.

Savannah was the first to reach him, launching herself into his arms. “You’re OK!” she cried, wrapping herself around him.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She burst into tears, pressing her face into the crook of his neck and sobbing.

Jack tightened his grip on her, looking over her shoulder to the others. Colm and Neva stood next to each other, their earlier incident forgotten. Hyacinth and Stellan each held one of the twins while Dahlia stood behind them. “It’s safe now, the spirit is gone,” he said.

“You were gone for a long time. I was worried that you two had gotten into a fight after I left,” Neva said.

Jack shook his head, rubbing Savannah’s back when his daughter flinched. “No, he, at least it might be a he, just needed to look at something. I just had to watch him till he left so that he wouldn’t double back and find you,” he explained.

“I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you,” Savannah whispered, her voice shaking.

“I know sweetheart,” he murmured, “I know you were.”

“‘Vannah?” a high pitched voice said.

Jack looked down.

Vana had let go of Hyacinth’s paw, and was now standing behind Savannah, looking up at Jack. The older doe pulled back, turning to look at the young toddler. Vana held up her arms, gesturing to be picked up. Savannah sniffed and rubbed her eyes before bending over and picking up the young kit.

The toddler grinned, and moved forward to rub her nose against Savannah’s. “Don’t be sad,” she commanded, staring her in the eyes.

Savannah gave a watery smile. “Alright, I won’t be sad,” she said.

“Come on, kid. Why don’t we go back into the ship and we can read that book you started off the Archive, alright?” Jack said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Savannah sniffed nodded, turning to him. “I love you, Dad,” she said.

Jack smiled, “I love you too, Savannah.”

Chapter Text

November, 1778

“Dad!”

Jack jumped up, his heart hammering. “What?” he yelped, jerking over to the noise.

Savannah was standing at the entrance to the Nest, smiling.

“Brat,” he muttered, standing up and glaring at his daughter. “Why did you wake me up?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Colm says it’s your turn to babysit the twins!” she chirped.

Jack groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Alright, I'll take over. Where are they?”

Savannah smirked and turned around, “Guys, come here!” she called. There were a pair of loud squeals from the exit, and Larch and Vana dashed into the Burrow, heading straight for him. Jack grunted as they ran headlong into his stomach, their tiny claws digging into his stomach.

“Hi hi!” Vana giggled, big blue eyes peering up at him. Jack chuckled, wincing at the ache in his stomach.

"Hey, kiddo. Have you been behaving today?” he asked.

“Yes!” she insisted, smiling.

Jack looked up at his daughter, raising a brow.

“Eh, for the most part they have been. Dahlia gave them sugar and let them loose on Neva, but once they had a nap they behaved,” she said.

Jack rolled his eyes, glancing at the kits in his lap. The twins squirmed around, settling themselves on his thighs and laying down. Larch put his head atop his sister’s, letting out a quiet, high-pitched chirp. The winter spirit grinned, reaching out and running his fingers over the little pooka’s head. The kit pushed against his hand and chirped again.

“They’re cute when they’re not lighting things on fire,” Savannah commented.

“Things go boom?” Vana murmured, looking up at Jack.

“No boom,” Jack responded, “making things go boom is bad.”

He poked her little pink nose, snorting when she sneezed. He tried to poke her again, but she batted his hand away and ducked away.

“Savannah, come on!”

She twisted around, “One second!” she yelled back. “Sorry, Dad, Stellan needs my help, but I’ll come back and visit later,” she apologized, backing out of the room.

“And then there were three,” Jack muttered, glancing at the kits perched on his legs. The twins stared up at him, their ears twitching. “So, what do you want to do?” he asked, “we’ve got to stay out of everyone’s way until dinner.”

“I wanna story!” Larch yelled, jumping up and clapping his paws together. “I wanna hear a human goeiom story!”

“No! Jackie can’t tell us that, only daddies can tell goeiom stories!” Vana protested, waving her arms in her brother’s face.

“He’s Savannah’s daddy, that counts!” Larch retorted, crossing his arms.

“No, only your daddy can tell you one of those, not other people’s daddies!” his sister yelled.

“Vana, don’t yell at your brother. I can just tell you a different story, I know a whole bunch of them,” Jack scolded.

“Fine, Jack can just be our daddy!” Larch exclaimed, “then story time!”

Vana paused and tapped her chin a few times, her brow furrowed. She looked between her brother and Jack and nodded once. “OK, Jackie, you’re our Daddy now,” she chirped, smiling.

Jack blinked. “Wait, what? Do I get a say in this?” he sputtered.

Vana’s ears drooped, and her whiskers trembled as her eyes watered. “Do you not want to be our Daddy?” she whispered, her voice quivering.

“No! No! I’ll be your dad!” he yelped.

“Yay! Now, story time!” Vana chirped, her ears perking. Beside her, Larch giggled and pushed himself onto two legs, putting his paws on Jack’s chest and staring at him.

Jack groaned and rubbed his eyes. “OK, now what is a goeiom? I don't know what that is, I don't think there's an English translation.”

The twins glanced at each other. “I dunno. They’re kinda happy and kinda sad, and somebody grows up,” Larch said, blinking owlishly.

“So, a coming of age story?” Jack asked. The twins shrugged. “Whatever, I’ll ask Savannah later. Hmm… let me think.” He ran his fingers along Larch’s back, racking his brain. “So, a long, long time ago, there were two houses, divided by feud so old neither house remembered the cause…”

Jack smiled, rubbing his thumb along Vana’s scruff. The kit let out a sleepy purr at the touch, snuggling into his stomach. Larch laid next to her, snoring. The spirit chuckled and wrapped his arms around the kits. He brushed his lips against their brows and stood, careful to keep his hand under their legs. Standing, he stepped over to the small hollow where the twins slept at night. Falling to one knee, he pushed Larch into the crook of his left arm. He leaned forward, placing Vana on the bedding. Her brother joined her a moment later. The twins settled, Jack stood. His lips twitched into a small smile.

“Sleep well,” he murmured, turning and walking to the exit. He jerked to a stop a moment later. Neva was leaning against the Burrow’s entrance, watching him.

“You adopted them?” she asked.

Jack shook his head, “I think they adopted me.”

She chuckled, “Well, have fun trying to wrangle them. They're your responsibility now.”

“Oh Lord, don’t remind me,” he groaned, “I’m going to go crazy.”

The pooka smirked, placing a paw on his arm. “Good luck, soldier,” she teased.

“Ah’m naught sure ‘bout dis,” Savannah said, peering down the steep slope. She hugged her wooden sled to her chest, glancing around nervously.

“Yer the one ‘ho wanted ta go sleddin!” Colm accused.

“Ah didn’t think id’d be dis big!” she squeaked.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Jack pointed out, “we can do it another day, or pick a different hill. We live in the middle of the mountains, it wouldn’t be hard.”

“No!” Vana yelled, headbutting Jack’s leg.

“Sled!” Larch agreed, pouting at Jack.

“You can’t even understand English,” Jack told them.

“Sled!”

The winter spirit sighed. “Why did I agree to this?” he muttered.

“Ya know, ya say tha’ a lot,” Neva pointed out.

“I know. Look, Savannah, you won’t fall off or roll away. I’ll fly down with you, that way if you lose control I can grab you,” Jack offered.

“Ah don’t know,” she muttered, glancing down the slope.

“Ah’m, done with dis,” Dahlia growled. The older kit stepped behind her friend and shoved her shoulders, sending her tumbling forward. Savannah shrieked as the sled hit the ground, slipping down the snowy hill.

“Dad!” she screamed. The sled raced down the slope, rapidly gaining speed as it kicked up piles of snow.

Jack cursed, fumbling with his staff and jumping into the air. He shot after Savannah, the wind whipping past him. “Savannah! Grab my hand!” he yelled, holding a hand out. She looked back at him, her eyes wide. He put on extra burst of speed, pulling ahead of her sled. “Come on, kiddo! It’ll be fine!”

Savannah glanced at his outstretched hand, shifting her weight to free a paw. She shrieked in surprise as the sled ran over a bump, dislodging her and sending her flying. She fell off the wooden sleigh, hitting the snow with a thud and rolling. The sled continued on without her, sliding to a stop a few yards away.

“Savannah!” Jack yelled, rushing over to her. He dropped down at her side, grabbing her shoulder and rolling her over to face him. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Do I need to go get Stellan?”

His daughter beamed up at him, unhurt. “Tat was great! Ah wanna do that again!” she chirped.

“Oh thank the moon,” Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair.

She burst out giggling, jumping up and shaking her coat out. “Sleddin is fun!” she chirped, bumping her nose into his cheek.

“Look out!”

Jack yelped and swung Savannah out of the way, narrowly missing Dahlia as she shot down the hill.

The inky tips of her ears flapped in the wind as she skid to a stop further down the hill. The silver doe jumped up, sled in hand and raced over to them. “See, that wasn’t so bad!” she said, grinning.

“If ya do tat again, Ah’ll push ya in ta lake,” Savannah growled, elbowing her friend.

The girl glared at each other. They burst into giggles a moment later. Jack shook his head, smiling fondly. “I’m not carrying you back up this hill,” he said, “you’re on your own.”

The girls groaned, looking up at the hill in trepidation.

“Please, Dad?” Savannah begged, pouting at him.

“Come on, please Jack,” Dahlia agreed.

“Nope,” Jack smirked, jumping into the air. He flew up to the top, snickering at the yelling from the girls. He touched down beside Neva.

“Yay! We go!” Larch yelled, jumping in excitement.

Jack laughed, “Yep, your turn!” He took the third sled from an amused Neva, setting it down on the powdery snow. He grasped the rope lead and gestured for the twins. They jumped into his lap, giggling and shoving each other in their excitement.

“Calm down, you’ll fall out if you keep wriggling,” he said, laying a hand on Vana’s scruff. The kit stilled instantly, going limp in his lap. Larch blinked and sat next to his sister, his back against Jack’s stomach. The winter spirit returned his staff to its holder and pushed off.

The twins shrieked as they slid down the hill, clinging to each other and Jack as the sled gained speed. Jack hollered in delight as the wind tugged at his hair, resisting the urge to command it to push them faster. In his lap the kits continued to yell, randomly breaking into giggles between their screaming.

They shot past Dahlia and Savannah as they trudged up the hill, and Jack waved at the girls, laughing when they glared at him. As they approached the bottom of the hill, he carefully nudged the sled away from the snowbank that had launched Savannah, guiding them to a smooth stop several feet away from Dahlia’s stopping point.

The twins shrieked in happiness, tumbling out of the sled and into the snow. Vana tackled her brother pushing him into the powder. She put her paws on his shoulders, cackling as he struggled to get up. Jack rolled his eyes, walking over and scooping up the little girl.

Larch shot up, shaking the loose snow from his coat. He hissed at his sister, crossing his arms and pouting. She giggled and snugged into Jack’s chest, clutching his shirt with both paws. “That wasn’t nice, Vana,” Jack reprimanded, poking her forehead. “Ah’m sawwy,” she said, nuzzling his neck.

“Don’t apologize to me, Larch is the one you shoved into the snow,” he corrected.

She looked down at her brother. “Ah’m sawwy, ‘Arch,” she said.

Larch huffed and flopping into the snow, ignoring his sister.

“Ridiculous, the both of you,” Jack grumbled, bending down and picking him up. He shifted Vana’s weight, using his elbows to nudge his staff out of it’s case. The old crook fell into the snow at his feet. Nudging the powder aside, he wedged his foot under the staff and launched it. He snatched it out of the air, knocking himself in the head in the process. The twins giggled at his misfortune, their fight forgotten as they snuggled together.

“Brats,” Jack grumbled playfully, jostling them.

They giggled louder, digging their paws into his chest to steady themselves. Little pinpricks dragged against his chest as they moved, light enough to not hurt, but he knew if he looked at his chest there would little red lines across his torso.

“Watch the claws guys,” he scolded, “I don’t have fur to protect me, so they hurt.”

“Sawwy, Da,” they said, pulling their paws away.

Jack smiled and brushed his lips against the tops of their heads. “Alrighty, ready to fly back?” he asked.

The twins nodded eagerly, falling still in his arms. Jack smiled and jumped. The wind caught him and pushed him up the hill, whistling in excitement in his ears. It wanted him to race, to allow it to blow as only the north wind could, fast and harsh and completely free.

“Another time,” he muttered, wincing at the disappointed whistle. If he had been alone, he would have urged it to carry him to his destination as fast as possible, laughing as he barreled through the air, but he wouldn’t risk dropping the twins, even if he was only a few feet above the ground. Instead, they flew as slowly as they could while still staying in the air. Even so, the hill was just a few hundred feet tall, so it only took them two or three minutes. They touched down just as the girls reached the crest of the hill, panting from exertion.

“Havin’ fun?” Neva smirked.

“Ye!” Larch squealed, jumping from his perch to the ground. His sister followed a moment later, landing a few centimeters away from landing on her brother.

“Tha hill is so big,” Savannah grumbled, “mah legs ‘urt.”

“Crybaby,” Neva teased, “the Brotherhood had me doing this all the time.”

“Well Ah’m not Brotherhood,” Savannah said, tromping over to Jack and shouldering him.

“Yer mean,” she said, pouting.

“Sorry, kiddo, I had to carry your little siblings,” he said, “they wouldn’t be able to get back up.”

Vana gasped, “Larch! Ew vahe a igb rtssie!” she squealed, jumping at Savannah. The older girl yelped, almost falling back down the hill in surprise. Jack burst out laughing.

“I think she approves,” he said.

Neva chuckled, “I guess so.”

Chapter Text

March, 1780

“Alright, chill it now,” Stellan ordered.

Jack nodded, trickling his magic into the small vial. Little tendrils of frost formed on the outside the glass, contrasting with the navy liquid inside. “So, am I trying to freeze this?" he asked, turning to the eldest kit.

A turquoise streaked ear twitched, and Stellan held up a paw, his attention on the machine in front of him. He jot something down on the paper in his paws before turning to Jack.

"You can if you want to, I make sure it didn’t freeze before it should. It would might be a good thing to double check the actual freezing point just in case, so if you're feeling up to it go ahead," he responded, gesturing with his notes.

"I can do that. But what is this stuff? Where did you get it?" Jack asked.

"It's a blood replacement. If someone has lost a large amount of blood and there isn't any chance of a safe transfusion you can use this instead. It's not as effective as real blood, but we don't have the equipment to take blood in the quantities we need," the pooka explained.

"Wait, is this for the injured kit? Are we thinking of waking them up?" Jack questioned. It wouldn't be outside the realm of possibilities, but he had thought they wanted to hold off waking anyone up for while yet. Their food supply had steadied and grown over the past three years, but even with the extra supplies Dahlia spent the second half of this past winter asleep.

"No, not yet, but I wanted to make sure that this stuff isn't contaminated or decayed," Stellan said, "your atmosphere is rich in nitrogen, much more than our planets, and this stuff has a tendency to decay when exposed to it. Once nitrogen is in the compound, it raises the freezing point, so it's easiest to test for contamination by checking when it freezes."

Jack snorted, "Do you come across winter spirits that often? Here I thought I was special."

The pooka chuckled, setting his notes down and walking over to Jack. He held his paw near the vial, not touching it, but close enough that little wisps of gas coming off the glass blew over his fingers. "Wow, that is cold. Have you ever tried freezing large volumes of liquid before, Jack? I'm curious how powerful you actually are, now. I didn't expect you be able to get it this cold, it raises a few questions about you," he said, pulling away.

Jack shrugged. "I never tested my limits much," he admitted, "once I figured out I could fly I spent more time exploring the world than my abilities."

Stellan hummed, "Fair enough. If we have some free time we should do that at some point, but I have what I wanted from this.”

The winter spirit nodded, replacing the vial on its rack.

“Thanks for the help, Jack. You can go back to whatever you were doing before, if you want,” Stellan said, smiling at him.

“Alright, see you later, Stellan,” Jack replied, smiling in return.

The grey kit walked back to his machines, messing with dials and buttons, changing the flashing words on the screen.

Jack ducked out of the room, walking into the cargo hold. As he strode past the occupied pods, he ran his fingers along the lids. It was a habit they had all picked up, a way of reassuring themselves and the kits inside that one day they’d all be together. He walked out of the hold, making his way down the ramp.

“Dad!” Savannah’s voice called.

Jack turned around, jaw dropping as his daughter ran towards him. Instead of a short, fluffy pooka, Savannah was a small, brown haired human girl in a long grey dress. Her bare feet slapped against the floor as she launched herself at him. He wrapped his arms around her torso, stumbling back as she crashed into him. “What on earth?” he said, staring at the young girl in his arms.

“I got it, Dad! I got it!” she shrieked, shaking his shoulders.

“Got what? Savannah, what is going on?” he yelped, setting her on the floor.

“She’s held that form for an hour and a half. According the the curriculum on the Archive that we found, she’s officially passed her basic shape shifting course,” Neva said, walking up to the pair.

Jack grinned, putting a hand on Savannah’s shoulder. “Good job kiddo, I’m proud of you,” he said.

Savannah blushed, her pale cheeks burning red. “Dahlia got it before me,” she murmured, wringing her hands.

“Dahlia is almost sixty years older than you and attended actual classes, of course she got it first. Don’t sell yourself short,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. She nodded. “So, if you’ve got this finished, what are you going to work on now?” he asked.

“I’m gonna keep working on this,” she replied gesturing to herself, “I can’t try a new form until my colors come in.”

Jack looked to Neva, a brow raised questioningly. “Until kits reach the age of five hundred and eighty they can only try to shift into a single secondary form,” Neva explained, “otherwise their cells can mutate or refuse to shift back. Savannah will have to wait till she’s about ten years older than Dahlia is now to try for another species.”

“Ah, so you’ve just got to work on keeping this up for longer, then?” he questioned.

Savannah nodded. “Yep! Tha’ and shifting back on my own. So far my body has only gone back by force, so I need to learn how to do it without help.”

Jack chuckled, pressing his lips to her forehead. “That’s great sweetheart! I know you’ve worked really hard on this over the winter,” he praised.

She giggled, snuggling closer to him.

“You sure are cuddly now. I think I like this,” he commented, wrapping his arms around her. “It doesn’t feel weird when I’m human. When I’m pooka it feels like being trapped, but right now it just feels warm,” she murmured, “Different instincts I guess.”

Neva rolled her eyes, a small smile on the elder pooka’s muzzle. “Didn’t you have something you needed to ask him?” she prompted.

Savannah gasped, pulling back. “Oh yeah! Stellan said the village was having an egg hunt for Easter this year! Dahlia, Colm, and I wanted to go! Now that I’ve got my human form and Dahlia is fluent in English we can fit right in! Can we go? Please?”

Jack frowned, internally wincing when Savannah’s face fell. “Are you sure that’s safe? What if you guys get hurt?” he asked.

“I’ll be there. Stellan has been telling the villagers that his ‘wife’ and three ‘children’ have settled in a town a few miles away, and they invited us to come for their Easter celebrations. Stellan and I talked, we agreed that we’d show up right as church was letting, claim we got sidetracked and then let the three of them have their fun while we talked to the adults,” Neva said.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, I won’t get in your way, but you need to be careful.”

Savannah cheered.

“But I’m coming as well.”

His daughter nodded eagerly, bouncing in place. “Thank you, Dad! I love you!” she yelled, jumping at him again.

Jack laughed and caught her. “I love you too, squirt.”

“Ah, Doctor! It is good to see you, my friend! We were growing worried, we expected you to arrive last night,” the local pastor said, outstretching a hand.

Stellan, wearing the familiar guise of Jackson Mundy, smiled. “Yes, I’m quite sorry about that, a woman in our town feel ill with chills. I stayed to assist her,” he apologized, stepping forward to clasp the pastor’s hand.

“Such is life, I suppose. I take it this is the family you’ve spoken of so fondly?” William asked, gesturing to the rest of their party.

Stellan beamed, “Yes! This is my wife, Hilda, our daughters Emily and Jane, and our son Robert.” Neva, Dahlia, Savannah, and Colm curtsied and bowed to the pastor.

From his daughter’s side Jack crossed his arms, eyes on the three kits for any twitches that might show they were losing control. Neva and Stellan could hold their altered shapes for days at a time, maybe even upwards of a week, but the kits weren’t as good or well practiced at shapeshifting.

“Well, welcome to Burgess! We’re so pleased to have you here, your husband has been such a help over the past two years,” William said, nodding to Neva.

She smiled politely, “I’m glad. He haz spoken fondly of this village ever since you hosted him the first time, the children and I have been curious about this place ever since.”

The pastor chuckled, “I hope you enjoy your stay, then. Maybe we can convince you to resettle in Burgess, we would certainly enjoy the luxury of a local doctor!”

Stellan laughed, smiling widely. “My friend, we’ve spoken about this! Pittsburgh has greater need for my abilities! Not to mention, I want my boy to get proper schooling, and he can’t get that here.”

The pastor groaned, “Yes, yes. Sometimes I wish you weren’t such a good person, Mr. Mundy. Come! Last time I checked the women were almost finished hiding the eggs. If you follow me, I’ll show you where everyone has gathered. I’m sure the children are excited to meet your brood, and the women are interested to getting to know your wife.”

Stellan smiled, “Of course, lead the way.”

He nodded, turning on the heel and leading the disguised pooka into the town. Jack glanced around the little houses, gaze running over the human’s homes.

This town had grown since Jack had settled down here three years ago. It had swelled outward, new buildings popping up as more and more people moved into the area. The pooka were lucky they lived in the more mountainous area of the region, otherwise the humans probably would have stumbled across them by now. Groups of children ran between the buildings, dressed in their Sunday best while their parents yelled at them from the village square to be careful.

As they approached, the adults took notice of the newcomers, many of the them yelling greetings to Stellan. A young man, maybe twenty years old, broke away from the crowd, striding towards the pooka.

He walked up to Stellan, a wide grin on this face. “Doctor! It’s good to see you again!” he exclaimed, grasping Stellan’s hand and shaking it.

The pooka laughed and shook back. “Ah, Mr. Miller, it’s nice to see you up and about! How is that leg treating you?”

“Much better! I can’t thank you enough, without you I would have been a goner,” the man enthused, gesturing to his leg. “Your father is quite the miracle worker, we’re very lucky he took a liking to us! At this point there isn’t a family in Burgess that hasn’t been helped by him,” he said, turning to look at Colm.

“Thank you, sir,” Colm replied, nodding to the man.

“Joshua, would you mind introducing the Mundys to the others, I have a few things I need to finish up in the church before we begin the festivities,” the pastor requested.

“Of course, it’d be my pleasure,” Mr. Miller said, beckoning the newcomers closer. He turned and walked back to the gathered villagers, the pooka following behind. Several of the men called out to Stellan, waving in greeting.

Those men pushed their way to the front of the crowd, clapping Stellan on the shoulders when they reached him. “Doctor Mundy, welcome! How was your trip?” the tallest of them questioned.

“It went very well, we were a bit delayed at home, but we made good time once we got on the road,” Stellan answered.

The human grinned, turning his attention to the rest of the pooka. “Hello, you must be the Mundys! I’m James Greene, it’s a pleasure to meet you all, the good doctor has told us much about you.”

Neva chuckled, “So I’ve been told. Its reassuring to hear that my husband thinks of his family, even when he’s on the road.”

The russet haired man nodded, turning to the crowed and gesturing. A blonde woman and a brown haired girl stepped forward, the girl half hidden behind her mother’s skirts. “My wife Joana and our daughter, Mary,” he introduced.

“Hello again, Mrs. Greene, Mary, how are you? Is little John doing better?” Stellan questioned.

“We’ve been doing quite well, Mr. Mundy. His cough cleared the day after you left, he's been a healthy babe ever since," Mrs. Greene said.

"Good, good! This is my wife Hilda, and our children Emily, Jane, and Robert," Stellan replied.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," the human woman said, nodding to the pooka.

"The pleasure is all ours, believe me," Neva said, a small smile on her lips.

“Mary why don’t you introduce the Bunnymund children to the others? I’m, sure they don’t want to listen to the adults,” Mrs. Greene said, gesturing to a cluster of children standing by the church.

“Of course, Mother,” the girl said, smiling at the kits. She grabbed Savannah’s wrist, pulling her away from the others. The other two followed her, slipping through the crowd.

Jack glanced around, grimacing as humans began to cluster closer to him. He jumped into the air and the wind pushed him over the human’s heads, landing a few feet away from the children. Mary whispered something to Savannah, sending the young pooka into a fit of giggles. The gaggle of humans opened to allow the newcomers to join them. Jack leaned against the side of the church, smiling as he watched them. Savannah and Dahlia were talking animatedly, their hands flying as they spoke. Colm was a little more reserved, interjecting once in awhile.

The spirit sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

His daughter caught his gaze, giving him a wide smile before turning back to the mortals. “Have fun, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“That was awesome! I want to do that every year!” Savannah yelled, bursting into the cavern.

Hyacinth yelped in surprise, spinning to face the newcomers. “Jeez, don’t scare me like that, Savannah,” he complained, glaring at her.

She giggled, ignoring him and flouncing towards the Burrow, basket of eggs bouncing at her hip.

“I agree, I enjoyed that,” Neva said, “being able to get out and talk to new people was nice.”

“Well, maybe we could do it every year, at least until this current group of humans ages out. It’d be a nice thing to do every year, Easter is a fun holiday,” Stellan suggested, nudging Jack.

The spirit rolled his eyes. “I’m not about to deny you if you want to do that again. You guys had fun, right?” he asked, looking at Dahlia and Colm.

“Yep! I’m going next year, even if you aren’t!” Dahlia enthused, clutching her basket.

Neva glared at her, crossing her arms.

Jack rolled his eyes at their antics. “I had fun time, the kids are interesting to watch,” he offered.

“Well I think it’s settled then! We’ll go to the village every year for Easter!” Stellan said, clapping his paws together, “happy Easter, guys!”

Chapter Text

December 1782

Jack tugged at the stiff collar, grimacing at the rough pull of starched fabric.

Behind him, Eira chuckled at his misfortune. “Not used to formal dress?” she asked, failing to muffle her amusement.

“I’ve worn a cotton shirt, leather pants and a cape my entire life, I've never needed silk pantaloons,” he replied, pulling at the offending fabric.

“Yes, well going to court requires a certain level of dress your typical attire doesn’t meet. Speaking of your clothing, why do you posses a cape? It’s not practical for flight and it will interfere if you get into a fight, what function does it serve?” she questioned, raising a sculpted brow at him.

He shrugged, releasing his shirt and stepping towards the lounging Snow Queen. “Is this acceptable?” he asked, gesturing to his outfit.

She ran a judging eye over his clothing, humming to herself. “Yes,” she decided, “but in the future we’ll steer away from dark colors. It may be stereotypical of us, but you look best in pale blues and whites. Any darker and we wash you out, makes you appear dead. We could have that aesthetic for you, but the Court has been trying to rebrand in recent decades, and having a new member who appears young and spritely may be best. You won’t be meeting the Courts for some time, so we have room to experiment. You don’t yet have the strength and experience for the ‘splash’ we need you to make in your debut, so you will keep far from the other seasons.”

Jack nodded, hand resting on the silvery dagger hidden at his hip. “You never told me about the members of the other Courts, I’m curious to learn about them,” he said.

She nodded, “I don’t suppose I ever did. Sit, and I’ll tell you about them. But afterwards, you should retire, it is late and tomorrow’s festivities start early, I want you at your best.”

He nodded, taking a seat in a plush opposite her.

“The Summer Court is the most aggressive Court towards us, but in a normal Winter spirit’s life they will only encounter a member once or twice throughout their life. You, however, will run into them far more often. The normal pattern of life for a Winter is one of a nomad, or stationary in an area only hospitable to us. Since you decided to build a territory in a warm climate, they will come onto your land. I will warn you now, it is acceptable for you to drive a spirit of another court from your home, but should you attempt to interfere with their seasonal duties, you will loose our backing.”

Jack frowned, tapping his hip. “What do you mean by that? Wouldn’t driving them away stop them from carrying out their duties?”

Eira shook her head, a small, amused smile on her blue lips. “With the current size of your land? No. You must find and enforce a border to mark what territory is yours and allow other Courts to influence the climate from the outside without your interference. So long as they are doing their duties and not attempting to attack you or sabotage your home, you are to leave them alone. Should they prove hostile, I'd prefer if you tried diplomacy before attacking them, but if they attack you have the right to defend yourself.”

He nodded, leaning back into his chair.

“They're led by Aestas of the Roman Pantheon, Tonatiuh of the Aztec Pantheon, and Surya of the Hindu Pantheon, though he is being replaced by Agni of the same Pantheon. You will interact with the Spring Court the most, the Autumn Court has few fighters so they stay out of our way. The Spring, however, has the backing of enough combat ready members that they sometimes make a nuisance of themselves. They are lead by Dhat-Badan of the Ethiopian Pantheon, Konohanasakuya-hime of the Japanese Pantheon, and Asinthmah of the Athabaskan Pantheon. Dhat-Badan is their chief of war, just as General Winter is ours. Many Norse gods are members of the Court or are associated with a member, and are the source of their military might, though many other groups contribute a few members. But their direct members are not where they receive their power and influence,” she said.

Jack raised a brow. “It’s not? Who are they indirectly associated that's more powerful than the actual Court?” he asked, confused.

“He has never told those but his closest allies his true name, but we have called him La Genèse for many years. He taken many names and many faces in the past, but he is usually in the form of a bipedal rabbit and is always distinguishable by his markings, regardless of his form,” she said.

“Regardless of his form? Is he a shapeshifter, then?” Jack asked, brow furrowing.

Eira nodded. “Yes. But he is not the main threat as powerful as he is alone. The real danger lies in his association with Mother Nature. We have never been privy to the exact nature of their relationship, but he is the only one she will speak to freely and about any topic other than the balance. Should he or his Court come under attack, everyone assumes that she will intervene on their behalf, even against another Court. She has several times aided him against various enemies though so far it has been spirits outside the Seasons.”

Jack nodded, racking his brain. “What do his markings look like?” he asked, digging his nails into his palms.

The Snow Queen gave him an odd look, her neat brows furrowing. “They are a dark blue, sometimes black, on his arms they resemble a flower with three petals, underlined by two thick bands.”

“I’ve met him,” Jack said, curt.

The Queen’s eyes widened and she sat up.

“Did you attack him?” she asked, her voice icy.

“No! He showed up in the middle of my land four, five years ago, and I ran him off, but I didn’t attack him. I let him finish whatever he was doing and then made him leave, we didn’t come to blows,” he insisted.

Eira sighed in relief, sinking into her couch. She reached for her glass, taking a long sip before looking back towards him. “You are very lucky. He would not have even needed to call upon Nature for assistance, he'd be able to kill you himself. There would have been nothing we could do to help you. No one besides myself and my personal court knows of your status as my mentee so I could not have intervened. If you see him again, I don’t care if it is in the middle of your domain, you will not engage him, do you understand?” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

Jack nodded, repressing a shudder as the temperature dropped several degrees. “I understand, Ma’am. I’ll leave him alone from now on,” he stammered.

Across from him, his mentor relaxed, her face returning to its usual unreadable mask. “Good. Now for the Autumn Court. They are the most peaceable of the Courts as most of their members are associated with the harvest or something similarly passive. Báidì is their War Chief and eldest member. He is the Chinese god of the harvest and metal, and of the entire Autumn Court you will need to tread carefully around him the most. Demeter is the most peaceable of their leaders, but she isn’t very amiable to those of Winter as we remind her of her lost daughter, Persephone. Still, if you must approach their Court, approach her first. Pachamama is the final member of their triumvirate and of all the Court, she is the most violent and willing to fight. At least, she used to be, but after her mythology intertwined with the Christian ideal of the Virgin Mary, her personality mellowed somewhat. She can still be roused, however, and if you need to seek her out, and I cannot stress this enough, bring a gift,” she explained. “You should do this as a general rule, when approaching higher ranked spirits from another Court, but you must do it for her.”

“Alright, what type of gift would be proper?” he asked, “I don’t have any belongings of much value.”

Eira hummed, tapping a manicured nail against the couch arm. “It depends on who you are giving the gift to and what you want from them. Should you need to do this, come seek me and we will discuss the best course of action. For how, you should return to your chambers, it is late and tomorrow is an important day,” she instructed.

Jack nodded, standing and giving her a short bow. “Then have a good evening, my liege,” he murmured, drawing himself to his full height. Eira gave him a small smile, nodding her head in dismissal.

Jack gave a long sigh, leaning against the marble pillar. He stood hidden behind a large white curtain, but he could glimpse the Winter Court from a gap between the cloth and the wall.

Dozens of spirits and many more sprites gathered in the great chamber before him, mingling and socializing. On the far end of the room, Eira, Father Frost, and General Winter sat on icy metal thrones, surveying their underlings as they gathered before them. Yuki-onna and match girls walked among the guests handing out refreshments on silver trays, their faces blank as they served the Court. Along the edge of the room, several massive blue humanoids stood, clothed in only a basic shirt and pants but covered in scars. Jotun, frost giants from Scandinavia that often served as foot soldiers and security for winter spirits. Only one among them had true membership in the Court, a male by the name of Jokul Frosti, and served as Winter’s executioner and hunter.

His attention shifted to the three thrones as Eira stood, drawing herself to her full height. The Court stilled, turning as one to face their leaders. “Greetings, members of this Court, we welcome you back from your wanderings,” she began, a small, chilly smile on her lips, so different from the openness and warmth she showed him. “We thank you for joining us this day, and for your service this past decade since we last met. These past ten years have been good to us, we have had no conflicts with the other Courts, our domain has expanded, and we have gained a new spirit."

The Court broke into whispers, many spirits looking around in confusion. The jotun clutched their weapons, glaring towards Jack’s position behind the curtain.

Eira held her hand up for silence. The Court quieted, looking to her in expectation. “A few of you may have heard of him before, though I believe no one has met him as of yet.”

Jack pushed himself up, walking along the curtain to the partition he was required to enter through.

“This spirit came into existence in the last century, and has now reached the age and level of power required to be apprenticed into this Court. Today, it is my distinct pleasure to bring him into our ranks. Without further ado, if the Court would recognize, Jack Frost.”

He let out a breath and stepped past the curtain. The eyes of a hundred spirits were upon him, staring him down. He looked over them, keeping his face neutral. As rehearsed, he stood there for a moment, letting them judge him for a few seconds. He counted to three and then began walking toward the three thrones on the opposite wall.

On Eira’s left, Father Frost watched him with a casual interest but didn’t appear invested in the proceedings. To her right, General Winter was stony-faced, his fingers drumming on the arm of his throne.

The room was silent as he approached the thrones but for his footsteps echoing on the marble cavern. He passed the denizens of Winter, head held high as he strode through them. He knelt at the edge of the dais, head bowed to his leaders.

“When did you gain spirit hood, young one?” Eira asked.

“Eighty years past, Milady,” he answered, following the script they had practiced. Behind him, the spirits burst into harsh murmurs.

“We have been informed that despite your youth, you have gained a respectable amount of territory on the eastern shore of North America, is this correct?”

“Yes, Milady.”

“How did you come to own this land and how long have you resided on it?” Father Frost questioned, running his fingers through his beard.

Jack paused, thinking over his answer. “I took a liking to the area and decided to settle there. I’ve been frequenting the region since my resurrection, but I settled there permanent five years past.”

General Winter scoffed, sneering at Jack. “Five years? You think you have claim to land after living there for half a decade? Have you withstood had any serious challengers, boy?”

Jack raised his head, meeting the elder spirit’s stare and opening his mouth to retort.

“He has,” Eira spoke, interrupting Jack. My watchers informed me that five years past, La Genèse appeared deep within Jack’s land. He left within the hour, chased away by this youngling.”

There were a series of gasps from the Court, and Father Frost raised a shaggy brow. “Is this the truth?” he asked.

“Yes. He appeared near a human town after his holiday had past and his duties completed, so I approached him and drove him away.”

“So you have already made an enemy you would bring against this Court,” General Winter hissed.

Jack shook his head, resisting the urge to spit at the cantankerous spirit. “No, I have not. I drove him away without bloodshed, he left after a show of strength. He has no reason to strike against me or this Court.”

General Winter sneered at him, sitting back in his throne and glowering. The other leaders of Winter glanced between themselves, a silent conversation flying between them.

“I see no reason to refuse this youngling membership to our Court, do you, Snow Queen, General Winter?” Father Frost asked, a smirk on his lips as he glanced at the General.

“I see none,” Eira said.

The General grimaced and shook his head.

“Does the Court accept Jack Frost within its ranks?”

Jack’s pulse raced as the members of the Court muttered to themselves, conversion flying between the Winter spirits. He glanced to his mentor for reassurance, blue eyes meeting white.

She inclined her chin a fraction, the corner of her blue lips twitching.

“If there are no objections, we shall move on to picking a mentor for this new spirit. Are there any that wish to take Jack Frost under their wing and teach him our ways?” Father Frost asked, his gaze raking over the crowd.

“I will,” Snow Queen said, a small smirk on her lips. “Keeping within our goal of mending our relationship with the other Courts, I believe having him under my supervision would do the greatest good. Jack is the first major Winter spirit born in the recent decades, and his reputation as a genial, good-natured trickster is favorable among the greater world. If we wish to change our standing, tying him to our leadership is the most efficient way of going about that.”

In the corner of his eye, he saw anger flash across General Winter’s face. The Chief of War rose from his throne, cobalt eyes flashing. “And what exactly are you trying to pull here, Eira?” he snarled, yellow teeth bared. “What use do you have for an apprentice but as a tool for your own gain?”

“What am I trying to pull? I am trying to prevent the murder of our members by the other Courts so we may regain the strength we lost after Marzanna’s death!” she hissed, glaring up at her fellow leader.

The room fell silent, tension thick in the air.

Jack repressed a shudder as the ambient temperature plummeted, the air crackling with magic. His skin itched with icy energy and his magic rose in response, ice forming along his fingers. At his feet, heavy hoarfrost spread across the floor, emanating from the arguing spirits.

“General,” Father Frost began, “I don’t believe Eira is attempting a power move here. She has a valid point, introducing a new, powerful spirit in decent standing with the rest of the world could only benefit the Court.”

His counterpart sneered, “You are so naïve, Morozko, she does nothing if it does not give her a political advantage.”

“And you do?” Eira countered, “are you so paranoid as to prevent a young Winter from gaining the tutelage he needs to serve his Court? To serve us?”

The room’s attention fell to the General, guarded, expectant eyes watching him.

“Tch,” he dismissed, glaring at Eira.

She sighed, turning her attention to the greater room. “Does anyone else have any concerns to air?” she asked. The Court was silent. The Snow Queen gave a small smile and looked to Jack. “Do then you accept me as your mentor and tutor, Jack Frost?”

“Yes I do, Milady,” he answered, lifting his eyes to meet her gaze.

She nodded once. “Good, you are dismissed,” she said, gesturing to the crowd.

“That went much better than expected,” Eira murmured, taking a sip of her wine.

“Better than expected? General Winter looked like he was about to attack the both of us,” Jack said, incredulous. “Are you sure we didn’t just make an enemy?”

His mentor chuckled, setting her glass aside and running her finger along the rim. “Perhaps. General Winter is the last remaining member of the late Marzanna’s court, Father Frost and I came after she and another ruler died. As such, he feels threatened. He is a firm believer in the old, violent school of thought in Winter, while Morozko and I are not. He believes we are trying to usurp him and put one of our allies on his throne.”

“Are you?” he asked.

Eira gave him a measured look, her gaze cold. “No. And you would do well to not ask such questions again, Jack.”

He winced and nodded.

She sighed and leaned back, taking another sip of her drink. “In truth, I expected him to attack you and then me,” she continued, “he has been tempered at the death his allies, though I hadn't realized the extent.”

Jack gaped at her, jaw falling. “Were you going to let him kill me?” he exclaimed, stepping away from her.

Eira laughed, shaking her head. “No, of course not,” she said, amusement in her voice, “I would have stepped in and helped you if he had attempted to attack you, you might have gained a few minor injuries, but nothing serious.”

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I am in so far over my head,” he murmured, collapsing onto his loveseat.

Eira rolled her eyes, smiling. “That is why I am here, Frost. I'm fond of you, I wouldn’t let the old coot harm you. Besides, what would happen to those cute little bunnies if you died? Even if I didn’t like you, I’m too fond of watching them flail around to take away their only real protector.”

Jack froze, eyes wide.

Eira laughed, tapping a delicate finger against her glass. “Did you really think I wouldn’t discover them? I’ve been keeping an eye on you for the greater part of a decade, so I took notice when one day you settled down and refused to move. I don’t care you protect them, so long as they don’t interfere with your duties, but I would caution against letting them exit your territory in the foreseeable future.”

Gaping like a fish, Jack nodded.

She smiled, the corner of her eyes crinkling in amusement. “You are so expressive, it’s very refreshing,” she murmured, “regardless, I will see you tomorrow Jack, sleep well.”

“I, uh, yeah, good night,” he said, pushing himself off the couch. He gave his mentor a jerky bow and walked to the door. He nodded to the yuki-onna as they held it open for him, stepping out into the hall.

Chapter Text

June, 1784

Jack grunted, jostling the large jug in his arms. Beside him, Neva glanced at him.

“Are you sure you can carry that, Jack?” she asked, jerking her chin towards his cargo. She shifted her own package into her right paw, hold the other toward him.

“I’m fine, it’s just unwieldy,” he said, giving her a quick smile.

She nodded, wrapping her arms back around her sack. “I was wondering why Stellan had taken an interest in wilting produce last month. I didn’t realize he’d be making alcohol though, that was unexpected,” she said.

Jack laughed, turning into the cavern. “Yeah, he doesn't seem like the type does he? So much for being the responsible one.”

“Excuse you? I’m very responsible, any distilleries aside,” Stellan huffed, arms crossed as he glared at Jack.

“You were making moonshine in the middle of the wood,” he pointed out.

“Not to drink! It’s for sanitizing my equipment, nothing more!” the pooka argued.

“And you needed ten gallons of it for that? And make a secret still in the woods so we wouldn’t find it?” Neva pointed out, smirking at her friend.

“Hey, I didn't know how much it would make,” he defended, whiskers twitching and nose darkening. “I’ve never done this before, I'm allowed to make mistakes!”

“He told me,” Colm offered, not looking up from where he and the girls were chopping vegetables. He set down his knife, picking up a handful of chopped tomatoes and dropping them in a pot.

“Same,” Savannah chirped, “Dahlia and I found it a month ago.”

“You mean you followed me through the woods after dark to see where I was going,” Stellan corrected, leveling her with a disapproving glare.

She shrugged and turned back to her cutting board, ignoring them.
Stellan rolled his eyes, turning to Jack. “Those jugs should be large enough to store it in, it has such a high alcohol content as long as we stop dust and dirt from getting inside it’ll be usable. I’m thinking we can leave it by Colm’s stuff until I find a place to store it in the ship,” he said.

“Sounds good,” Jack grunted, walking to the designated ‘kitchen’ and setting the container next to a few stacked crates. He straightened up as Neva placed her jug beside his, stretching his sore arms.

“So, I got my hands on true doctors supplies a few weeks back,” Stellan began. “I’ve also been reading up on surgery techniques with Savannah on The Archive.” 

Neva raised a brow and gestured for him to continue.

“We’re in a good spot to rescue the injured kit. As good as we could be, anyway. The pod doesn’t have much information, but they don’t seem to be in mortal danger. If I take another few days to get ready, I can pull them out and stabilize them.”

Jack frowned, crossing his arms. “Stellan, you’re becoming an amazing healer, everyone here agrees, but surgery? Do you think you're ready for cutting someone open?”

“Maybe, but we don't have forever. I hate to bring it up, but we need to talk out the ship. The fission core will only last so long, not to mention it’s so old I’m surprised it hasn’t broken yet.”

“You think the life support will give out and they’ll asphyxiate,” Neva concluded.

Stellan nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “Yes. Given how high the oxygen content is in this planet’s atmosphere, there’s only so much time before it decomposes. With the rest of the pods we can afford to wait because should the power fail the locks will disengage and they’ll just wake up. But if the reactor fails while we’re unprepared that kit might die. I want to subvert that risk and just go ahead with waking them.”
“I don’t know, Colm gave the core at least another hundred years before it failed, right? Wouldn’t it be better to wait? The humans already think you’re a doctor, spend the rest of the winter studying then experiment with them. Someone is always getting injured in that village, it's better to experiment on them than risk going into this unprepared,” Neva pointed out.

“You want me to experiment on them? Listen to yourself. Neva! I won't subject the villagers to my first attempts at advanced medicine!” Stellan hissed, lapsing into Standard.

“Don't twist my words, that’s not what I said, Stellan! I’m saying you should work up to major surgery, you know, practice? Learn proper stitching, how to minimize the risk of infection, clamping veins, removing shrapnel, the basics!” she snarled, stepping towards him with clenched fists.

Jack scowled and crossed his arms, his stomach twisting. Stellan attempting surgery for the first time in such a dire situation wasn't great. If it was one of his kits in danger, Savannah, the twins, or even Dahlia, he wasn’t sure he’d want Stellan anywhere near them with a scalpel. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure he could live with the idea that a kit died under their protection because they didn’t act in time.

“She has a point, I don’t think you should rush into this. You’ve in the last few years, but you’re not ready for this, Stellan. It’s true we need to get that kit out, but rushing into it won’t do anyone any favors,” Colm interjected, setting aside his work and wiping his paws on a rag. He stepped around the cooking supplies, stepping in front of the eldest pooka and putting a paw on his shoulder. “We’re taking a risk leaving them where they are, but it’s more of a risk to have you operate on them with only theory and no practical experience. The pod didn't tell us the exact extent of their injuries, what happens if their heart's damaged, or a major artery was severed? You wouldn’t know how to help them and they’d die. I won’t let you subject yourself to that guilt, Stellan.”

The silver kits shoulder’s slumped, deflating under his friend’s words. “Jack?” he murmured, looking to the winter spirit.

Jack sighed and crossed his arms. “I agree, we need to wait. I don’t like it, but we need to be cautious. You’re so young, if this goes south I don’t want the consequences on your conscious.”

“I’m eight times your age, you don’t get to talk as if you’re a wise old man,” Stellan murmured, giving him a small smile.

Savannah snorted, “Dad? Wise? Are you positive you didn’t drink any of that moonshine?” The assembled pooka burst into laughter, tension draining from the room.

“Hey!” Jack protested, glaring at the kits.

“Sorry, Jack but you’ve got to admit that was pretty funny,” Colm snickered, a red streaked ear flopping over his eye.

“You’re so cruel,” he complained, sticking his tongue at his daughter. Savannah copied the gesture, prompting another round of chuckling. “I’m just entertainment to you brats, aren’t I?” he accused.

“Darn, ya figured out our plan,” Neva said, leaning on Jack’s shoulder.

He rolled his eyes and nudged her back. “I’m going to check on the twins,” he announced, stepping toward the nest.

“They’re still asleep, I went in fifteen minutes ago,” Dahlia said, banging her cutting board on the edge of her pot to shake the last few scraps of chopped onion into her soup.

“Then they’ll be better company than you people,” Jack said, striding across the cavern. He ducked through the curtains Dahlia had hung stepping into the dim nest room. Looked around for a moment, he spotted the twins half buried in a pile of blankets in the far corner. He unclipped his staff and leant it against the wall, stepping across the room, footfalls silenced by eight years of hunting with Neva. Jack sat next to them, back against the wall.

In a rare moment of peace, they were leaning against each other, pink noses twitching as their sides rose and fell. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, running his fingertips along their fluffy scruffs.

Vana shuddered and pressed closer to her brother, eyelids fluttering for a moment before she settled back down.

He let out a quiet chuckled, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

There was a quiet giggle nearby, shushed by quiet voice a moment later.

Jack opened his eyes, blinking away the cloud of sleep. Savannah, Dahlia, and Neva stood at the nest entrance, Savannah’s paw clamped over Dahlia’s muzzle. He frowned, still drowsy from his nap, “What?”

“Shh!” Dahlia shushed, pointing at his legs.

He blinked and looked at his lap. The twins piled in his lap, fast asleep. He smiled and shifted to better accommodate them, shifting Larch away from his outer thigh. Vans yawned and burrowed into him, tiny paws pressing against his legs.

“They’re so cute,” Dahlia whispered, nudging her friend.

“Aren’t they?” Savannah giggled.

Larch picked up his head, blinking owlishly as he looked around. “‘Vannah?” he yawned.

“Hey buddy, did you have a nice nap?” Jack asked, running a finger along his scruff.

Larch nodded and sat up, holding his arms out to Jack. He chuckled, picking up the baby pooka and holding him to his chest. “Sleepy,” he muttered, rubbing his head against Jack’s chin.

“You just woke up,” Jack teased, kissing his son’s forehead.

“Shh! You’re so loud, Daddy,” Vana complained, pressing her ears against her skull. She curled into a tight ball, burying her head under Jack’s coat.

“Aw, sorry Vana,” he said, scratching behind her ears.

Larch stuck his tongue at his sister, snuggling into Jack’s chest.

“Why can’t they be like this all the time?” Savannah asked, “they’re so much cuter when they’re sleepy.”

Neva snorted and shook her head. “Kits are like that. They’re cute when they’re being quiet, but when they’re awake? Not so much,” she said, crossing her arms. “Hence why I’m never having kits.”

“Do you not like kittens?” Savannah asked, eyes wide.

The elder doe shook her head, a wry smile on her lips. “Nope, not even a little bit. I planned to make a career out of the Brotherhood, then find a mate after I left active combat, but I never wanted kittens. I don’t like taking care newborns or young kits. Before everything happened I considered adopting older kits, but that’s not possible any more.”

“You could adopt one of the kits in the pods,” Dahlia pointed out.

Neva snorted, shooting a smirk at Jack. “I think Jack’s got that covered,” she said.

“You’ll just ‘ave ta be the crotchety aunt,” Dahlia teased.

Neva flicked her in the temple, giving the kit a sharp glare. The younger kit cackled, ducking behind Savannah to avoid a smack to the head.

“Don’t you three have anything better to do than stand there a Jack asked, sending them a mock glare.

“Killjoy,” Savannah complained. She strode over to him, reaching down and plucking Larch from his arms. “I’m stealing him,” she announced, turning and marching out of the room.

Dahlia followed her out, sending Jack a quick smile as she left.

He sighed, shaking his head fondly. "Brats, the lot of them. I don't know why I put up with them."

“I’m so glad you took them. I might have strangled one of them if I was in charge of them,” Neva joked, leaning against the wall.

Jack laughed, placing a hand on top of Vana. “I’m glad I took them too,” he admitted, “I’ve enjoyed the last few years more than the other seventy year combined.”

Neva snorted, rolling her eyes. “You’re such a sap, Frost,” she accused, smirking.

Jack laughed, “you know it.”

Chapter Text

December, 1786

Aster sighed and took a long swig of the whiskey. “Am tellin ya, that’s not a good idea mate,” he insisted.

North scoffed and shook his head. “Is just a little winter sprite, I am not understanding why you are so worried,” he said, “besides, Christmas is not like Easter, I cannot just skip it because you worry about this Jack Frost.”  

“We’ve all fought minor spirits before, why are you so concerned about this one, Bunnymund?” Queen Toothiana agreed. “He was reborn just a few decades ago, Nicholas should be more than a match for him.”

Aster shook his head, appraising his comrades. Nicholas St. North, the ex-bandit king turned wizard. There was the barest hint of Winter magic emanating from the man, but most of his strength lay in close range magical combat. Queen Toothiana, the last of the Sister of Flight, queen of the tooth fairies, and another close combat fighter. Frost would kill the both of them in minutes. Every spirit he’d spoken to said Frost was a lethal opponent, darting through the air throwing barrage after barrage of ice at anyone unfortunate enough to have earned his ire.

Toothiana could evade him better than the land bound North, but Winter elementals could obliterate any spirit without the means to counter their brutal, lightning fast attacks and withstand sub-zero temperatures. Even if the unfortunate spirit withstood a Winter’s barrage, without the ability to either teleport or move around the battlefield unencumbered it was near impossible to land a blow. As a counterbalance, powerful Winters were often frail and falling in a few hits. Frost was no exception, tall but willowy with almost no musculature to speak of.  

“Frost ain’t a normal spirit. No elemental claims territory this early in their life without serious power,” he explained. “Somethin’ ain’t right about him. Winter spirits are too vicious to let some upstart stake out so much land so soon in his life, especially so close to the Snow Queen’s terf.”

“Still, I must continue. The children are expecting Santa,” North countered. The cossack paced in front of the roaring fireplace, eggnog splashing onto the floor as he gestured wildly. Off to the side, a yeti groaned as alcohol hit the floorboards. Nicholas took a long drink from his cup and slammed it on the table, glaring at Aster.

“Ah ain’t sayin’ ya should skip the anklebiters there, ah just think you should be careful. Get in and out as fast as possible, preferably before Frost realizes yer there,” Aster retorted. North was too young a spirit to risk even a few believers, the wizard was dependant on the children to keep his power strong, and losing the northern colonies would be a large blow.

“Pah, you worry too much. It will be fine, I will go quickly and the little Winter won’t even know I was there!” North declared, a wide, self assured smile on his lips.

Aster shook his head, swirling the ice in his glass. His contacts in the Courts had come through, revealing the exact boundaries of Frost’s territory to him. A quick marking spell and he could see the exact line where Frost would turn hostile. As long as he stayed on the outside he could follow North’s route and keep him safe. “If ya get an icicle to the chest don’t say ah didn’t warn ya,” he muttered.

“Oh blimey,” Aster muttered, shaking himself to dislodge the powdery snow. America was cold in the winter, next year North was on his own. By his calculations, it was almost two in the morning in Pennsylvania and the temperature had dropped drastically from when he had come earlier to scout. North has made quick work of the rest of the new state, but once he had come into range of Frost’s land Aster’s wards had activated and he came to keep an eye on the wizard. So far there had been no sign of Frost, the wind was stronger, the snow thicker here, but powerful spirits often altered their local climates in such ways. He looked up at the roofs of the large town, Salem if he recalled the name correctly, watching North go between houses. The human was cackling with merriment as he popped into chimneys and come out a moment later.

“Crazy drongo,” Aster muttered, giving a wry smile. As North left the last house he jumped into his sleigh, the reindeer jumping into the air. Aster shivered and darted after him, keeping to the shadowy forest as North sailed north into Frost’s land. The snowbanks were thick once he ran a few miles from the village, undisturbed powder piled high around trees and boulders. It was hard going and his muscles burned as he bound through the terrain. Unencumbered by snow or the treetops, North sailed through the air, escaping the pooka’s sight in moments. He cursed and powered forward, snow flying as he charged through the trees. He caught up with North as he landed on the roof of a small cabin alone in the woods. Aster stepped into the clearing in front of the house, freezing as he put a foot onto the open snow.

Behind the cabin  and almost blending into the landscape, Frost sat cross legged high in a massive pine tree. He watched North park on the cabin’s roof and jump into the chimney, a wide smile on his lips. The shepherd's crook sat across his lap, untouched and without most of its characteristic frost fern. Aster stepped back and hid behind a thick tree, keeping a keen eye on the spirit. Within a few moments, North popped out of the house, jumping into his sleigh and taking off.

Frost watched him leave, raising a bony hand and pointing towards North. Aster tensed and pulled out a boomerang. A single, oversized snowflake formed in his hand, shooting past North and climbing into the thick cloud cover in the sky. Above them, North cackled in delight, large puffy snowflakes falling from the sky in a light snowfall. The sleigh disappeared from sight a moment later, sailing west. Frost watched him fly, not moving from his perch high in the canopy. When the sleigh was out of sight, Frost leaned back, resting his head against the trunk and closing his eyes.

Aster watched him for a minute before looking to the cabin. Unlike many other homes in America, this one had glass windows, allowing the inhabitants to look out into the world. Curious, Aster moved so that the cabin was between him and Frost and crept forward, keeping low to the ground and out of sight. He moved to the left most window, peering into the small cabin.

Past the pane, he could see a quaint kitchen, dried herbs strung up over a wood burning stove and pots stacked in a large wooden cabinet. There was a large table that extended into the living room, a dozen carved chairs sitting around it. Papers covered the surface, and a human woman sat head in arms asleep at the end. There was a thick blanket around her shoulders and wicked looking knife next to her. Her long black hair tumbled past her shoulders, unrestrained by the coverings her sex often wore. There was a large rug thrown over the floor behind her, a large fir tree covered in random decorations set in the corner. Almost a dozen wrapped gifts sat beneath its branches, labeled with elegant, looping writing he couldn’t read from so far away. Between the tree and a rocking chair there was a pile of unfolded blankets half collapsed over what looked like a black stuffed rabbit toy. A small bed sat nestled in the rafters, a sleeping child turned away from the window.

He couldn’t see the father of the family, but he assumed the adult’s bedroom was behind the closed door against the far wall. It was a quaint little home, new and modern by human standards but impossibly old fashioned by Aster’s account. He straightened up and thumped his foot against the snow, summoning a tunnel. The snow and dirt caved in on itself, the earth rolling with ancient magic.

Inside the cabin, the child sat bolt upright, throwing off the covers. They looked to the window, long brown hair tousled and eyes wide. Aster cursed and jumped into the tunnel, the earth closing just late enough for him to hear the girl yell. “Neva!” she screamed, her shrill shriek chasing him as he ran.

Dahlia shot up, as powerful, unfamiliar magic washing over her senses. Her eyes shot to the window, and she glimpsed a dark, hulking gray shape dash away from the glass. “Neva!” she screamed, jumping from the bed onto the floor.

The older doe yelped, and jumped up, dagger in hand. “Outside! There was a spirit!” she yelled pointing to the window.

The door to Stellan’s room slammed open, and Stellan herself ran into the room, almost tripping over her nightclothes as she rushed over to them. “What happened? Why is there yelling?” she gasped, eyes wide.

“You’re sure?” Neva questioned, ignoring Stellan.

Dahlia nodded, shivering. “It used magic and I saw something outside the window, but it disappeared before I could see what it was.”

Neva cursed and strode over to the door, throwing it open and walking into the snow. “Jack!” she yelled, looking into the dark winter’s night.

Stellan stepped between Dahlia and the open door, mouth drawn in a thin line. She pushed her back towards the bed, pulling down the thick quilt and wrapping it around her shoulders. “It’s alright, Jack and Neva can handle everything, why don’t you take the twins and go into my room? Stay in there until one of us comes to get you. You remember our passcodes, right?” she questioned.

She nodded, drawing the blanket around her as cold air rushed into the cabin. She could hear Jack outside, his normal warm voice cold and low as he spoke to Neva. “What about Savannah and the others? They’re still back at the ship!” she said.

“We’ll go get them in a few minutes, just go,” Stellan instructed, pushing her towards the north wall.

She stumbled forward, throwing off the blanket and running to the christmas tree. In their little nest, the twins looked at the room. They shoke, bodies pressed together as they watched the older pooka run around. She scooped them up, grunting at their weight and stumbling through the doorframe. She slammed it shut behind them, staggering over to the bed and dropping the twins on the mattress. Without a word they burrowed into the blankets and disappeared from sight.

Dahlia herself stood at the bed's foot, eyes darting around the room. Her muscles were vibrating with energy, and she could feel herself losing her grip on her human form. She untied her shift with shaking hands, dropping it to the floor and releasing her form. She whimpered as the change rushed through her, every inch of her aching as her cells recombined into their proper configuration. She groaned and flopped back onto the bed, burying her nose into Stellan’s scent.

“He’s gone,” Jack confirmed, holding up a tiny snowdrop.

“He? You know who it was?” Neva questioned, twirling her knife. She was shivering and her lips were blue, but her voice was steady. Her human form was clothed in nothing but a thin night dress and leather sheath, neither doing much to guard her from the freezing temperatures.

He nodded, frost climbing his fingers onto the flower, microscopic crystals ripping into the delicate flower. The frozen bloom sat in his palm, undisturbed. Snarling, Jack closed his fingers around it, crushing the little flower and throwing it to the ground. “It’s that damn rabbit, the one that showed up at Easter a few years back.”

It made little sense why he was here now. His presence years ago had been explained after Savannah convinced Vana to tell them humans saw her and mistook her for the Easter Bunny, but that was several years ago.

“You said he was allies with Santa Claus, right? He flew off just a few minutes before Dahlia spotted him, perhaps he was escorting Santa through your territory?” Neva offered, sheathing her knife and leaning back against the cabin wall.

Jack tilted his head, staring at the torn steam peeking through the snow. “Maybe. I don’t like this, but there’s not much I can do about him thanks to Eira. I'll do a sweep of the area, then I want you guys to go back to the cave and wait there. Put the twins and Dahlia back to bed, I’ll make sure he’s gone then bring all the Christmas stuff back. For the next few days you should lie low, don’t leave until I give you the all clear,” he said.

She nodded, walking through the door and shutting it before a confused Stellan.

Jack slammed his staff into the ground, his heart twisting with vindictive glee as the rabbit’s flower broke into a hundred shards.

Chapter Text

October, 1792

“Should we stop them?” Savannah asked, pointing to the squirming twins. Jack looked up from the maps spread over the cabin table, eyes the twins. Up in the loft, Larch perched haphazardly on Vana’s back with his arms wrapped around her neck. She was trying to stand up, legs wobbly and shaking under the extra weight.

“What are you guys doing?” Jack called out in Standard.

Larch yelped and toppled off his sister, landing on his back on the kit’s bed. Vana stood up and shook herself, giggling at Larch’s squirming.

“Nothing!” she said, smiling.

Jack rolled his eyes and walked over to them. He climbed up the ladder, pushing himself onto the landing. He reached out and picked up Vana, pulling her against his chest. “Let's not roughhouse so high up, alright? Larch could have fallen and hurt himself,” he said, tweaking her nose.

Vana let out a high pitched sneeze and rubbed her nose. She shook her head, whiskers twitching and looked up at Jack. “Okay, sorry Daddy,” she chirped, reaching up and bumping her head against his chin.

Larch pushed himself onto his back legs and stood up, balancing himself against Jack’s abdomen. “I want up!” he whined, pressing his paws into Jack’s stomach. His sister twisted around to her brother, sticking her tongue at him.

Jack flicked her nose again and leaned down. He shifted Vana’s weight onto one arm and wrapped the other around Larch. He pulled his son into his arms, placing his chin on his head. “No more roughhousing where you could fall and hurt yourselves, alright?” he said, shifting the kits so he could look them in the eyes.

The twins nodded, smiles wide.

“Thank you,” he said, pressing a kiss to their foreheads.

“Umm, Mr. Frost?” a voice called.

He turned to the voice, smiling as he saw the owner standing in the doorway. “Hey, Varsha! What’d do you need?” he said, jumping off the platform onto the wooden floor.

The newest kit stood just inside the cabin, wringing her paws as she looked past Jack. “Stellan was looking for the twins. She said it was time for their check up,” she said.

Vana whined and buried her head in Jack’s neck. “Don’t wanna,” she mumbled, whiskers tickling Jack’s neck.

He chuckled and ran his fingers through her coat. “Sorry sweetheart, but you have to do it. It’ll take half an hour, then you and Larch can go back to playing,” he soothed. Not waiting for a response he strode over to the door, giving Savannah a quick peck on the cheek as he past. Varsha backed out of the doorway, letting him pass. He gave her a quick smile and walked out into the crisp fall air.

Varsha followed him, closing the door behind her. They began the trek to the cave, ignoring the twins as they chittered at each other. Jack looked down, absent mindedly examining their most recent addition. They woke Varsha the first week of September to help with the harvest. She was younger than Savannah and Dahlia but much older than the twins. By his estimate, if she were a human she’d be eight or nine years old, too young to help with the actual hauling of crops, but old enough to keep an eye on the twins while picking vegetables or watering crops. She was a quiet kit, keeping to herself or shadowing Savannah and Dahlia as they went about their chores. Around Jack, she spoke very little, but she was more open with the older pooka. Regardless, she was a sweet kit, always willing to help or run errands.

“So, Varsha, how are you settling in?” Jack asked, smiling. She looked up at him, eyes wide.

She frowned, her ears drooping. “Alright, I guess. I like it here and you’re all really nice but I want to go home. I miss my family,” she said, watery grey eyes boring into his. Jack sighed, chest falling. “Do you think I’ll ever see them again?” she asked, voice quiet.

“I don’t know, kid. We don’t know who else escaped or how to find them,” he answered, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Varsha looked down, whiskers trembling. She wrapped her arms around herself and let out a quiet sob.

He winced, reaching a hand out to her. When she didn’t react, he placed his hand on her back. “It’ll be ok, kiddo. We’ll figure things out. Stellan’s been working on extending the ship’s signal range. Who knows, maybe some adults will be on the next ship that crashes here,” he said, rubbing circles into her back.

She sniffed and nodded, wiping her eyes. “This is a very pretty planet, it’d be a good place for a new start for the pooka,” she admitted.

Jack laughed and pat her on the shoulder. “There’s the spirit! Maybe there’ll be a teacher on board that can help you guys with you lessons or someone from those weird moving pictures things Dahlia keeps talking about!” he said, giving her a wide grin.

She giggled, covering her muzzle with a paw. “They’re called movies, and they’re not that weird,” she argued, a small grin on her lips.

Jack shook his head, chuckling. “Nah, they’re pretty weird. I swear, every time I talk to you guys you mention some crazy advanced technology humans haven’t even dreamed up yet.”

She smiled up at him, her sadness forgotten for a moment. They’d have to have that conversation at some point, but not yet. They walked along the forest path, pine needles crunching under their feet as they took in the scenery.

“It’s so peaceful,” Varsha said, looking about the forest.

“It is,” Jack said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

The humans rarely came to the part of the forest and spirits were beginning to respect his claim over the area, so their little family could sometimes go for months at a time without seeing outsiders. It may not be the healthiest for the kit’s social development, but it kept them safe so Jack wasn’t inclined to change their routine. In his arms, Vana squirmed and pulled herself up to his ear.

“Daddy, I wanna watch a movie!” she whispered.

He pulled her back and raised a brow. “Oh? Is that how you’re supposed to ask for things?” he asked, trying not to smirk as Vana pouted.

“Plllleeeaaassssee,” she whined, her ears drooping.

Jack smiled and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “After dinner we’ll see if we can find anything kit friendly on the Archive, alright?” he acquiesced. “But you and your brother have to agree on what you want to watch, alright? I don’t want any fighting.”

Vana cheered, throwing her arms around her brother. “Yay!” she said, forcibly chinning her brother.

Jack rolled his eyes and jostled her in reprimand. His daughter  giggled, her smile brightening. He gave her a wide grin and looked up, trying to orientate himself with the mountains. It had been almost five years since Stellan and Neva had built the cabin, but he still had trouble navigating from the ground to the burrow. When he flew he could make it there in less than a minute, but the twins were getting too big for him to risk flying with them both. They walked the rest of the way in amicable silence, making it to the cave entrance fifteen minutes after they set out.

Neva met them at the entrance, her arms splattered with blood and gore from her most recent kill. She greeted them, keeping Jack between herself and Varsha.

“You’re smelly!” Larch complained, wrinkling his nose at the older kit.

She gave him an unimpressed look. “If you complain you won’t get any soup later today,” she said, wagging a finger at him.

Larch squeaked out an apology, grabbing Jack’s shirt. “I’m sorry! I want soup!” he wailed, butting his head against his father’s jaw.

Jack winced at the impact. He knelt down, placing the twins on the ground. He stood, rubbing his sore chin. “Where’d Stellan get to? These two,” he gestured to the youngest kits, “need a checkup.”

Neva smirked and directed him back to the ship. She slipped past the group as they climbed the ramp, heading for the river.

Jack herded the twins into the belly of the ship, chasing Vana away from one of the closed pods. He forced them into the cockpit, Varsha locking the hydraulic door once all three kits were inside.

Stellan looked up from her notebook, smiling. She shut the book, stashing it up on a shelf. “There you are. Are you two ready for your checkup?” she asked.

The twins shook their heads, crowding against Jack’s legs.

The older pooka laughed, walking to Jack and leaning down. She snagged Larch, ignoring the little boy’s high pitched squeals as he was lifted off the ground. Larch squirmed in her arms, trying to pry himself out of her grip. Stellan carried him over to her impromptu examination table, setting the squirming kit on the surface. Larch crossed his arms at her, lower lip extended in a pout. She chuckled, reaching into her bag and pulling out a thermometer. "Sorry kiddo, I know check ups aren't fun but we've got to do them," she said, offering a sympathetic smile.

"Don't wanna check up," Larch muttered, curling in on himself.

Jack's heart twinged at his son's unhappy expression, but he watched on without interruption. He glanced down as Vana bumped against his leg, pressing herself against his calf. "You don't have to stay here," Jack said, turning to Varsha.

She blinked, looking up at him. "Stellan wanted to take a look at me after she was done with the twins," she explained.

Jack nodded, looking back to his son. Larch stared at the far wall, ears flat against his back with a thermometer sticking out of his mouth. He sighed, fighting down the urge to cross the room and comfort his son.

Varsha leaned towards Jack. “He looks so sad,” she whispered, watching Stellan pick Larch up and put him on a scale.

“I know,” Jack said, frowning. “I knew they wouldn’t like this, that’s why I agreed to let them watch a movie.”

She smiled, grey eyes twinkling in the artificial light. “You’re such a softie. Your kits are going to be so spoiled,” she teased.

Jack laughed, a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s fair, but in my defense Savannah was already like that when I got her,” he joked.

Varsha giggled. “She’s not that bad. Dahlia on the other hand…”

Jack smiled and held up a hand. “Hold up. Dahlia’s not one of mine, you can’t blame me for her.”

The newest kit laughed, eyes crinkled and whiskers trembling with amusement.

Jack hummed as he walked into the cargo. Night had fallen several hours ago, and the kits were getting ready for bed. The older kits wouldn’t sleep for a few more hours, getting a few last minute chores done or hanging out by the fire, but it was bedtime for the twins. He walked past the pods, smiling at the few remaining closed.

Fifteen years after his kits crashed to earth, only five of the fourteen were still asleep with plans to wake most of them in the coming decades. There was still a raging between him and the older kits about what to do with the infant and the injured kit, but the other three would soon be woken up and incorporated into their little family. Smiling, Jack hit the release on the cockpit door. With a familiar hiss the door opened and revealed the darkened cockpit.

The Archive was active, projecting a dim menu screen onto the wall. The twins were fast asleep, snuggled into a ball in the little nest of blankets Savannah had made for them. Chuckling, Jack stepped over to them. He knelt next to their nest, reaching in and lifting Vana. He settled his younger daughter against his chest, slow and careful so he wouldn’t jostle her. A moment later Larch joined his sister. Jack pressed a kiss to their foreheads, smiling. He turned and made his way out of the ship, waving to Hyacinth as he wandered by.

It was too late to go back to the cabin, so the twins would have to stay in the burrow tonight. It wasn’t a big deal, they’d carved out several other bedrooms over the years and they kept a few extra if the younger kits couldn’t get back home before nightfall. Jack made his way to the closest unclaimed room, ducking through the heavy curtain that separated it from the main cavern. Stepping over to the nest, Jack knelt next to the raised frame. He leaned over it, setting the twins on the plush mattress. Vana frowned in her sleep, reaching over and wrapping her arms around her brother. Jack smiled, grabbing a loose blanket and pulling it over them, tucking it under their chins. He gave them another kiss before standing and walking out of the room.

Chapter Text

April, 1801

Jack looked up as the cabin door creaked open. Hyacinth hovered in the doorway, paw still on the door knob. “Hey Jack, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, ears twitching.

The spirit frowned, setting aside the book he’d been reading. “Sure. What’s on your mind?” he asked, leaning back.

Hyacinth gave an awkward cough and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He walked into the main room, sitting down across from Jack. “I wanted to talk about Stellan,” he admitted, whiskers twitching in embarrassment.

“Stellan? Is something the matter between you two?” Jack asked, brow furrowing. Everyone except Stellan recognized that Hyacinth had a terrible crush on the eldest kit. Wherever Stellan went, Hyacinth was always in the background, hovering but never quite gathering the courage to spend time with his crush. Naturally, Stellan was oblivious to the younger pooka’s feelings, treating him like a friend and confidant. Stellan’s easy affection and praise sometimes made Hyacinth uncomfortable, and it would surprise no one if he had done something to scare the younger pooka away without realizing. Hyacinth may be one of the older kits but he was a sensitive person, and prone to random bouts of self-doubt.

“Everything’s fine, it’s nothing bad this time,” Hyacinth said, giving a little sardonic chuckle. “This isn’t about me, it’s about Stellan. He’s coming of age in a few weeks, and he’s trying to hide that from everyone. He told me by accident a few days ago, but he’s not telling anyone else.”

“Why would he do that?” Jack asked, puzzled.

“He’s being Stellan,” Hyacinth said. “Traditionally there’s a big party when a litter reaches adulthood, it lasts a few days and involves most of the extended family coming and celebrating with the new adults. It’s kind of like a festival, there’s food, games, dancing, things like that.”

Jack hummed, tapping his fingers on the table. That explained why Stellan’s markings had spread, vibrant blues and greens growing across previously grey fur. When they’d met Stellan’s adult colors were splashed over his left shoulder and back, but now extended over his stomach and down his legs.

“Why doesn’t he want everyone to know? Is it because it’s supposed a family occasion and he wants to celebrate privately?” Jack asked.

Hyacinth shook his head. “No that’s not it. It’s common for smaller families like Stellan’s to invite friends and neighbors in lue of relatives. I think he just doesn’t want to make a hassle. We’re all so busy with everything I think he doesn’t want to interrupt. I mean, his birthday falls right in the middle of seeding, and there are all the little kittens to deal with, he doesn’t want to be a bother.”

Jack rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. “That sounds like Stellan, always putting others first. But let me guess, you want throw a party for him anyway? Even though it seems like he doesn’t want one,” he said, setting his chin on his hands and raising a brow.

Hyacinth blushed, looking down at the table. “I don’t think he doesn’t want a ceremony, I think it’s more like he doesn’t want to be a bother. He’s under so much pressure as the eldest, he’s trained himself to push his wants aside, to focus on taking care of the rest of us,” he explained, rubbing his arm.

Jack nodded, pursing his lips. He couldn’t deny the truthfulness of Hyacinth’s words, Stellan had a habit of sidelining his own needs for the sake of the rest of the group. The eldest kits was the first to rise in the morning, prepping the cooking fire or setting out food for breakfast. He was the last to eat and the last to go to sleep, making sure everyone else had what they needed before taking anything for himself. In that regard he was much like Jack himself, but without the lessened need to eat or sleep that came with being a spirit. Stellan had a casual disregard for his own health that worried him sometimes. Countless times Jack returned from late night patrols to find the eldest kit wide awake and working on his latest project with no intention to go to bed until the next night. “So what do you want to do, if you have your heart set on forcing Stellan to celebrate his birthday?” Jack teased.

Hyacinth perked up, grinning. “Well Neva and I have been working on making some stuff. We were thinking we could make sweets, spend the day playing games and telling stories. It’d only be for a day so we didn’t get too behind on work, but enough to seem like a real celebration. Neva’s in the middle of making a chuzi board, it’s sort of like a human chess board but you can play a whole bunch of different games on it. It’s a fun toy for kits, but it’s an important aspect of social life for adults. I don’t know if humans have an equivalent, but pooka have a game called sidji that’s a symbol of adulthood. It’s got a lot of social implications but generally someone that’s good at sidji is seen as mature and sophisticated and it’s tradition for a kit to learn how to play at the ceremony.”

“It’s status symbol,” Jack concluded.

“Yes! That’s exactly it,” Hyacinth beamed.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this then. You were going to do this even if I didn’t go along, weren’t you?” Jack asked, raising a brow. The pooka flushed, ducking his head. Jack laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “Geez Hyacinth. I’ll play along, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you.”

The kit beamed, jumping out of his chair. “I’ll make a list! We don’t need everything immediately, but I’ll mark what we need right now,” he exclaimed, grinning.

Jack shook his head as Hyacinth rushed to the exit. He pushed the door open and stepped outside before Jack interrupted. “You’re going to be perfect for him one day, you know that?” he said.

Hyacinth froze, paw on the door knob. He turned to face Jack, eyes wide.

“You don’t need to be so scared, Hyacinth. Maybe now’s not a good time, but he’ll come around. He’ll realize how important you are to him eventually” Jack advised, giving him a small smile.

“I… I don’t know about that,” Hyacinth admitted, ears falling.

Jack chuckled, shaking his head at the flustered pooka. “You have the worst self-esteem. Trust me, Stellan’ll come around. But shoo, I have things to do that don’t involve planning your crush’s birthday party,” he said.

Hyacinth blushed and nodded, closing the cabin door.

Savannah peeked down from her loft. “He’s an idiot,” she observed

Jack laughed, smiling up at her. “Right?”

“I swear, who just leaves a horse untied in the forest?” Stellan grumbled, tugging his jacket off and throwing it onto a nearby bush.

Jack chuckled, leaning against a tree trunk. He watched Stellan stripped down, changing back to his pookan form. He fingered the stake in his pocket, smirking to himself. A smack on the rump had been more than enough to startle the black smith’s suddenly untied horse into sprinting into the forest. After that it was child’s play to guide the startled stallion towards Stellan. After an hour of chasing the poor thing through the forest Stellan marched the animal back to the village, giving the blacksmith’s apprentice a firm scolding for not securing the animal properly. It had been a funny thing to watch, even if Jack felt bad for the unfortunate boy. He had actually done his job very well, tying the horse’s lead firmly around a trunk with a thick stake pinning it in place.

“Kids, they mess up sometimes,” Jack shrugged.

Stellan grumbled, picking up his discarded clothes. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s go back home. My samples are contaminated, so I need to go back to get more equipment,” he said, turning towards home.

Jack nodded, pushing himself to his feet and following Stellan through the trees. He had kept Stellan out of the burrow for most of the morning, so hopefully the others had time to finish preparing. Decorations and games had been made ahead of time and hidden in Jack’s room, but there was still a lot that needed to be done before everything was ready.

A test tube slipped from Stellan’s arms, falling to the ground and shattering on a root. Stellan swore and stepped back, tightening his hold on his supplies. “Damn it, that’s the third one today,” he cursed.

Jack winced in sympathy, calling the wind to sweep the shards into a pile. He knelt next to the glass, placing a hand over the pile and freezing the air around the pile. He picked up the ball of ice, placing it in his pockets. “Do you need more? I can stop by Philadelphia on my next route,” he offered, placing a hand on Stellan’s shoulder.

The eldest pooka sighed and shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I still have a bunch from the last batch,” he huffed.

Jack nodded, pulling away. “Let’s keep going,” he said, starting back towards the burrow. Stellan followed after him, hugging his supplies to his chest. Out of Stellan’s sight, Jack smiled.

From the moment the kits had landed on Earth Stellan had always been the calm one, the responsible one who always looked after the others. Even his screw ups weren’t born of teenage arrogance or selfishness, they usually revolved around his inability to be an objective judge of his abilities. He never got mad or fought with the other kits, he kept his head and continued on as best he good. However, the last few days Stellan had been in a terrible mood, sulking around the cavern ignoring the others. Jack wouldn’t have been impressed if any of the other kits were acting out in such a way, but considering the circumstance he felt Stellan was entitled to a little pouting. Hyacinth had said that the coming of age celebration was one of the most important moments in a pooka’s life, it was only natural that Stellan was frustrated, even if he had brought it on himself. If Jack hadn’t known why he was upset he might have been concerned, but being able to fix the situation made Stellan’s pouting almost cute. It was nice to have a reminder that even if he was unusually mature Stellan was still very young.

They traveled in silence back to the burrow, arriving at the base of the mountain after half an hour of battling their way through brambles and the occasional cranky animal. Jack pulled his staff out of its holster, flying up and into the cave.

Colm looked up from the buffet he was setting up, smiling when his eyes landed on Jack. He let out a sharp whistle. The other kits came sprinting into the main cavern, clustering around the entrance. Savannah passed out bags of vibrant flower petals, giving an extra large bag to Vana. The toddler grabbed a yellow petal, sniffing it and shoving it in her mouth. “Vana, spit that out,” Jack scolded, swiping the bag from her. She pouted, opening her mouth and letting the spittle covered petal to fall to the floor. Jack grimaced, handing the extra sack to Daliah.

“He’s coming,” Varsha hissed, a wide grin on her face. Stellan stepped into view a moment later, his eyes on the bundle in his arms.

“Happy birthday, Stellan!” the kits chorused, throwing the petals onto Stellan. Larch cheered and threw his entire bag at the eldest kit, giggling when it exploded into a cloud of red and white petals at his feet.

Stellan yelped, flinching away from the sudden cacophony of noise. He stared at the crowd in shock, hugging his bundle.

“Happy birthday,” Hyacinth offered, a nervous smile on his lips.

The older kit blinked, mouth falling open. “Uh, what?” he asked, eyes wide.

Neva snorted, smirking at her friend. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out today was your majority day?” she asked.

“You told them?” Stellan hissed at Hyacinth, nose darkening with embarrassment.  Hyacinth winced, nodding his head. Stellan groaned, looking around the cavern. “We aren’t actually going to spend six days on this, right? We don’t have time for a real ceremony,” he said.

Jack rolled his eyes, smiling. “Yes, we’re not going to celebrate your coming of age properly, but we had to do something for you, so stop being a wet blanket and have fun.”

Hours later, after the sun had set and the younger kits were in bed, Jack and the older kits sat around the dying fire. Stellan sat in the middle of the circle, proudly showing off his new markings. A four pointed leaf design over his brow marked him as an adult, a full member of the Heatherwood clan. Jack sat opposite him, the chuzi board between them. “Wait, so if I move here I can restrain this pawn from moving, right?” Stellan asked, pointing to one of Jack’s pine chips.

“I think so?” Jack said, scrolling through the rules the Archive projected.

“Oh wait, no I can’t. I don’t have that much movement left,” Stellan said, scratching his chin.

Colm took a bite of his apple, reading the rules over Jack’s shoulder. “So who’s winning? Have either of you even forced a surrender yet?” he asked.

“I don’t think so?” Jack said, moving a pair of pieces out of the trap Stellan was setting up. “This is a confusing game.”

Neva bent down next to Stellan, whispering into his ear. Stellan perked up, pushing an oak token behind one of Jack’s. “Hey, quit cheating! You already know how to play,” Jack accused, taking the piece off the board. She chuckled, sitting back.

“Finally! It only took you guys an half an hour to take a piece,” Hyacinth groaned.

“You want to try this?” Jack asked, glaring at the young buck.

“You two are the only adults, you’re the only ones allowed to play,” he countered, smirking at Jack.

“Neva can play, she just can’t place wagers,” Colm pointed out.

Jack waved him off, maneuvering two of his tokens to flank one of Stellan’s. “None of you are gambling. I don’t care if any of you can legally do it, that is not a habit you should get into,” he said.

Stellan laughed, stealing a bite of vegetable filled pastry from Hyacinth’s plate. “Always the responsible one, aren’t you, Jack?” he teased.

Jack rolled his eyes, smiling. “Hey, I’ve got three kids and the rest of you lot to look after. I have to at least pretend to be a reasonable adult,” he said.

“El-Ahrairah help us,” Stellan moaned.

“We’re doomed,” Neva agreed.

Jack huffed, throwing a piece of carrot at them. “Hey, I’ve done a pretty good job taking care of you maniacs for the last twenty-four years, haven’t I?” he groused.

They laughed, Neva giving him a patronizing nod. “For an alien you do decent job of raising pooka, I’ll give you that much,” she said, nudging Stellan’s paw toward a lone piece on the board.

Jack snorted, countering her move. “Thanks, I think. I like to think I’m doing a decent job,” he said. The beginning had been bumpy, with Savannah especially. The twins were easier, they were so young they hadn’t had time to develop differently than human children. Pooka kits had different needs and different expectations from their parents than humans, and Jack had stumbled a few times trying to reach an understanding with his children. He had the hardest time understanding was the different mental development than humans. Humans reached physical and sexual maturity first, but weren’t mentally mature for several more years. Pooka were the opposite, reaching mental maturity years before their bodies finally developed.

Stellan made a chart at one point comparing the different mental ages so Jack could understand why the twins, supposedly 'three' years old, acted more like they were five or six. Pookan development occured at a different rate than humans, having shorter true childhoods but being adolescents for much longer. Kits grew to about eight human years when they were ‘five’, then plateaued until they were ‘nine’ when their development accelerated to full maturity around ‘fourteen’ years old. It was all relative and hard for him to wrap his head around, but Jack was beginning to come to understand how his children would develop.

It also explained Colm and Hyacinth’s maturity. By human standards they wouldn’t be old enough to have any say in town decisions, but Stellan and Neva listened to their input and regarded them as equals.

The fact that it took about forty-eight earth years for the pooka to age a ‘year’ was simultaneously relieving and terrifying to Jack, it would take six and a half long centuries for the twins to be fully grown, but pooka aged so slowly they were practically immortal. As long as he could keep them safe and healthy, the pooka would live to be seven thousand years old. Jack could feasibly live forever, but spirits rarely lived longer than two or three millennia before being killed by rivals or fading from a lack of belief. The pooka weren’t like humans, generations passing in the blink of an eye, they would be by his side his entire life, possibly even outliving him.

“I think you’re doing a fine job, the twins are quite the handful,” Colm said, smiling at Jack.

He chuckled, snagging a piece of roasted chicken off his plate. “That's for sure. They’re a bit much at times, but they’re sweet. I couldn’t have asked for better kids,” he admitted, smiling softly. The group was silent for a moment before Jack brightened, grinning mischievously. “Speaking of kits, do I need to give you the Talk, Stellan? We don’t want any baby pooka running around, now do we.” “No!” Stellan yelped, ears folding back. The kits burst into raucous laughter, reveling in Stellan’s embarrassment.

Chapter Text

February, 1819

Jack knelt behind the kitchen counter, grabbing a cutting board from the cabinets. He set the board on the wooden surface, selecting a large knife from its block. He picked up the canvas wrapped steak he had pulled from storage and set it on the wooden slab. Across from him Harlow sat perched on a stool, watching with curious eyes.

"What's that?" the newest kit asked, pointing to the meat.

"Venison," Jack answered, trimming the fat from the steak's edges. "It's meat from a deer." Harlow blinked, opening his mouth to ask another question. "A deer is a four legged mammal about four or five feet tall that eats plants. It's got antlers and hooves and they live in herds all over the continent," Jack said, anticipating the kit's next query.

The little pooka nodded again, watching Jack slice the meat into thin strips. "Is that what Cadet Neva brought in the other day?" he asked, reaching out to grab a slice of meat.

Jack blocked his wandering paws, giving Harlow a disapproving look. "No eating until it's cooked. I don't care if you guys eat it back of Home World, remember what Stellan said about Earth bacteria?"

Harlow pouted, pulling his hand away. "Can I get a snack? I'm hungry," he said, rubbing his belly for emphasise.

"Lunch was two hours ago," the winter spirit pointed out, rotating the board to cut the strips into cubes.

"I know, but I'm hungry," Harlow whined.

Jack sighed, shaking his head. "Fine, you can have a piece of fruit or something, but nothing too heavy," he said. Harlow whooped, jumping off his stool and scurrying over to the icebox. The winter spirit chuckled, a fond smile spreading over his lips.

Harlow was a sweet kit, woken up late last year. After some discussion among the eldest members of their little family, they decided they could handle another kit and woke Harlow up after the last of the harvest. A few years older than Varsha, he had bonded with the youngest kits quickly. He was timid around Stellan and Neva, but otherwise he was a bubbly, inquisitive kit. He and Varsha had become fast friends despite their opposite personalities, and they could usually found playing in the snow or reading on the Archive.

The kit skipped back to the counter, a large apple in paw. Jack rolled his eyes, rewrapping the venison and setting it aside. He turned to the large wood stove, opening the iron door. Red coals flickered in the stove's belly, illuminating the stove with a warm glow. Jack grabbed a few sticks and broken chips, throwing them onto the coals. Thicker logs followed, carefully placed with metal tongs so Jack didn't burn himself.

He wiped his palms on his pants, standing and turning back to the counter. He reached up, snagging a skillet from the hanging rack. Across from him, Harlow hopped back onto his stool, apple in paw. Jack rolled his eyes at the kit, setting the pan on the stove. “Whatcha making, Mr. Jack?” Harlow asked, taking a bite of his snack.

“Stir fry,” the spirit answered, grabbing a bottle of olive oil from a cabinet. “It’s a meat dish with bell pepper, garlic, and spinach served over noodles. I’m sure you’ll like it, all the other kits love it.” Harlow nodded, watching him pour a generous splash of oil into the pan. As the oil heated up Jack walked over to the pantry, opening the doors and looking inside.

The shelves were emptier than he would have liked, but there was little he could do this late in the season. The first harvest wouldn’t be until late May, and there was only so much they had to trade away. Feeding ten hungry kits was a challenge at the best of times, and it only got harder deep into winter. It had gotten easier with the new chicken coop and the orchards blooming for the first time, but they were still dependant on Neva’s hunting during winter.

He pushed aside a few bags of flour, opening the icebox. He grabbed a few peppers and a head of garlic, taking stock of the remaining food. Closing the box, he went back to the counter, ruffling Harlow’s head fur as he walked by. The kit sputtered, ducking away from Jack’s hands.

The spirit cackled, setting the produce on the counter. He set aside the cutting board he had been using, pulling out a second board. He grabbed a small knife and set about slicing the peppers. “You finished your lessons, right? I’m not going to have Stellan stomp in here and start yelling at me for distracting you?” Jack asked, shaking a few stubborn seeds from the blade.

Harlow nodded, taking another bite of his apple. “I finished my work early so he let me leave,” he said, licking the apple’s juice from his paw.

Jack nodded, setting the peppers aside and grabbing a few cloves of garlic. He smacked the cloves with the flat side of the knife, snickering when Harlow sneezed at the harsh smell.

“What is that?” the pooka asked, covering his nose.

“Garlic! Do you want to try some?” Jack asked, handing him the pod. Harlow wrinkled his nose, picking up the clove.

“Do humans really eat this?” he asked, looking faintly ill.

Jack nodded, biting his cheek to stop from laughing. “Go on, take a bite,” he prodded, trying not to smirk.

“Harlow, don’t listen to him, you aren’t supposed to eat that,” Neva said, striding into the room. The kit threw the clove back at Jack, grimacing at him. Jack pouted, catching the lightly smashed bulb. Neva walked over to Jack, flicking him in the temple. “You’re not supposed to eat whole pieces of garlic, you chop it up and use it as a seasoning. If Jack wasn’t such an ass he would have told you that,” she said, glaring at the spirit.  He ran a hand through his hair, flashing her an apologetic smile. “If Jack gives you something that smells weird and tells you to eat it, don’t,” she said, turning back to Harlow.

The young kit nodded, wrinkling his nose and sticking his tongue out at Jack. He hopped down from his stool, making a speedy retreat from the room. They watched him leave, Jack bursting into laughter the moment the kit was out of sight. “That was pretty funny, you have to admit,” he chuckled, peeling the skin off the garlic.

Neva rolled her eyes, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, but do you have to do it to everyone that wakes up? You’d think it would get old after a while,” she said.

Jack shrugged, grabbing his knife and mincing the garlic. “What can I say, your reactions are funny,” he said.

Neva sighed, shaking her head. They were silent for a moment, the conversation lulling into a comfortable quiet. The oven’s quiet crackling and the rhythmic chopping were the only noises in the room, providing a comfortable background as the two stood in the kitchen. Neva looked around the room, eyes scanning the walls and ceiling. “Is there any more dust coming down from the ceiling?” she asked.

Jack shook his head, grabbing another clove of garlic. “Colm sanded it down one more time last week, that knocked the last of it loose.”. The pooka nodded, running a judging eye over her handiwork. “Though we might have to make another icebox, once the harvests hit we’ll want more storage,” he continued.

“I was thinking the same thing. Colm and I were talking about that a few days ago actually, he suggested we dig a root cellar next year,” she said.

“I hope you mean next summer. You won’t have much luck trying to dig during winter,” Jack said. Neva’s contruction projects took most of the winter to complete, and it gave the restless pooka something to do in the downseason. The kitchen was this year’s project, an a hundred square foot room blasted into the Burrow. It had taken her almost two months to blow out the room, and then another month of sanding and smoothing out the walls before they could begin to furnish it. Three weeks back it had been finished and they could finally stop preparing meals on stacks of crates. He had a sneaking suspicion she’d done it to impress Colm, their usual cook, but regardless it was a relief to have a proper place to prepare meals. They were still eating dinner in the traditional pooka fashion of sitting on mats in a large circle with communal dishes but he had convinced Neva to start working on a dining table they could fit against the far wall.

Neva shrugged, resting her arms on the counter. “Hyacinth wants to try to build a proper electric refrigerator, says it would work better than the icebox or a root cellar,” she said.

“How on earth would you power anything electric? There aren’t any nearby rivers and the wind isn’t strong enough for a windmill,” Jack said, puzzled.

She shrugged. “He said something about tapping into the ship’s engine for power, but I’m not too comfortable with an untrained engineer tampering with an engine. Back home he would’ve had to go through decades of training before being allowed anywhere near a nuclear battery.”

Jack frowned, peeling the skin off the garlic. “How dangerous would it be if he messed up?” he asked, throwing the papery skin aside and slicing the clove.

Neva shrugged. “The ship’s pretty up to date, so it’s got a miniaturized fission battery instead of an old school fusion core. He screws up on a fission battery it just blows the mountain to pieces and leaves behind some waste instead of blowing up the mountain and irradiating the whole continent to hell.”

Jack’s hand slipped in surprise, the knife slipping into the soft pad of his thumb. Scarlet blood beaded up, dripping onto the cutting board. “Christ,” he cursed, dropping the knife. He grabbed a nearby rag, wrapping it around the cut and squeezing. “He’s not doing that,” he snapped, grimacing as the garlic juice stung the open wound.

“Do you need me to get Stellan?” she asked, voice pitched with concern.

Jack shook his head, tightening his grip on his thumb. “I’ll be fine, can you just grab some bandages from the ship?” he asked. Neva nodded, pushing herself off the counter and dashing off into the main cavern. Jack groaned, walking over to the empty bowl he had planned to use for salad. He focused his attention on the moisture in the air, pushing his magic into the air. Without his staff to conduct his power it took much more effort, but he managed to gather a few handfuls of snow into the bowl. He dropped the bloodied rag onto the counter, shoving his hand into the powder. The snow melted against his skin, numbing the stinging pain. Jack sighed in relief, slumping against the counter.

“Dad! I smell blood, are you alright?” Savannah hollered from the main room.

“I’m fine sweetheart, just a little cut!” he yelled back.

Soft footsteps came from outside, and a few moments later Savannah stepped inside, a small woven basket in hand. “What’d you do to yourself now?” she asked, walking up to the counter. She dropped the basket on the counter, wrinkling her nose at the bloody cloth on the counter.

“I was talking to Neva and wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing, sliced my finger with a knife,” he said, nodding at the fallen knife.

His daughter snorted, smirking. “Good job, Dad.”

“Quiet you,” he jokingly scolded, sticking his tongue at her.

She giggled, stepping around the counter and walking up to him. She placed her chin on his shoulder, pressing into his back. Jack smiled, turning his head and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Did you need something, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling his slightly numb hand from the snow.

She shook her head, letting out a soft purr. “Does it hurt?” she asked, nodding to his hand.

He smiled, reaching up with his uninjured hand to stroke her cheek. “I’m fine honey, it just stings a little.”

She hummed, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “By the way, Larch spilled a big jar of honey all over himself. Colm said you have to clean him up,” she declared, her lips drawing up into a smirk.

Jack groaned, shaking his head. “It’s always something,” he complained, “I’ll deal with him in a minute.”

Neva chose that moment to come bustling back into the kitchen, a roll of gauze in her paw. She crossed the room, placing the guaze on the counter in front of Jack. “Hey, Savannah, did you guys finish planting already?” she asked, smiling at the younger doe.

She shook her head. “No, I got sent back to grab Dad and to get snacks.”

Neva nodded and turned her gaze to Jack. “So, about what I meant to tell you before you chopped your thumb off. Stellan said she keeps seeing wolf prints out in the woods, not a full pack but that it looks like one or two big males, so I was thinking we could try to track them tomorrow.”

“Sounds good, but I’ll need the morning off. Harlow wants to compare magic, see how mine is different from pookan spellcasting,” he replied. She nodded. “Savannah, would you mind finishing this stir fry so I can go get Larch cleaned up?” he asked, turning to his daughter.

“No problem, Dad!” she chirped, giving him a wide grin.

“Thanks sweetheart,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I’ll see you two at dinner and we can talk about this wolf problem a bit more.” Neva gave him another nod. Jack grabbed his staff, winking at both girls as he walked out of the room.