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“What d’ya mean you haven’ had chocolate?” Aster stared open-mouthed with shock at Jack. The human’s brow was furrowed, creating a delicate line on his pale forehead. Aster could see the faint blue of his veins if he looked hard enough. Tooth and North wore similar expressions of surprise, while Sandy mostly looked confused. Food wasn’t exactly the dreamer’s top priority.
“Well, I've never had the chance?” Jack shrugged, leaning forward against his crook in his usual fashion. There was a hunch to his shoulders, though, suggesting some type of embarrassment. Aster wasn’t sure. After a year of close interaction, he still struggled to read Jack’s movements. “I mean, there’s not much reason for a dead guy to eat, I suppose.”
“Dead guy?” Tooth asked, voice flooded with concern. Aster was glad she’d caught that too, although it would be hard to miss. “Jack, what do you mean?”
“What?” Jack asked, sounding mystified as well. “I died, and Manny brought me back, white hair and all. Now I’m here. You didn’t know?”
“Yer dead?” Aster’s voice shot up an octave with shock. Sandy had images flashing above his head, questions moving faster than any of them could keep up with. Aster could see flashes of gravestones and zombies. When Sandy had gotten around to watching modern movies, Aster had no idea. A shotgun appeared above Sandy’s head and Aster nudged him with a paw.
“Do not be silly, he cannot be dead!” North clapped a large hand on Jack’s shoulder, making him stumble. North pulled his hand back in apology, patting Jack’s thin shoulder with a lighter touch. “He is warm flesh and blood, no death touches him.”
“As far as humans go, I’m pretty dead,” Jack said flatly, straightening back up, holding his staff almost defensively in one hand. “I don’t sleep or eat. I don’t get cold. I don’t age. I don’t get tired, et cetera, et cetera. Really not doing a great job of being human.”
“Bah, there is no need for that when you are Guardian,” North said, laughing in his usual booming tones. “Though, a good nap is nice after Christmas.”
“Ya don’t get hungry?” Aster cut-in, ignoring North. He couldn’t get past the part where Jack didn’t eat. That seemed like a big deal to him. Human or not, eating was one of the simple pleasures in life that no one should have to go without.
“I mean, not in about three hundred years, no.” Jack said, looking away. His face was flushed lightly, just barely pink. He tightened his grip on his crook, frost crawling down the spine of the curved stick. “Listen, I don’t see what the big deal is. None of us are really ‘normal’ in terms of humans and human nature.”
“Yes, but this is big news,” North pointed out, sitting back in the chair at the table. A round table, Jack had joked once, for the Moon’s knights of Earth. Two days later, North had created a new meeting room for them in his workshop, holding a round table and chairs with ornate designs carved out to tell the story of Jack’s indoctrination. “You are human, no?”
“I guess,” Jack shrugged. He looked down at himself where he stood. Jack didn’t often sit at the table, much to North’s disgruntlement. “I mean, I was before.”
“And now?” Tooth asked. She was leaning closer, squinting slightly, as if to try and decipher the differences between Jack and the boy next door. Sandy emphasized the question with floating exclamation and question marks, spraying dreamsand around the table.
“I don’t know. Something else.” Jack said bitterly. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Can we drop it?”
North, who was pretty good at knowing when to back off, acquiesced and changed the topic. He blathered on about how good Christmas had been, although it had been long enough since the holiday that Easter had already passed. Aster leaned back in his own chair, not wanting to push Jack, but made a silent promise to bring it up again when it was just the two of them.
---
Aster added a pinch of salt to the soup before tasting it again. He was always slow to add the salt, since it wasn’t particularly good for his stomach. This soup wasn’t for him, though, and humans usually liked more salt in their foods, or so he’d heard. The cream had mixed nicely with the root vegetables, making a nice hearty soup that Aster was quite a bit proud of.
“Cottontail, what are you doing?” Jack asked from where he sat on the table. “I thought you said this would be quick?”
Aster turned to face him, holding the ladle up. “What, ye want me to go hungry? I hafta eat lunch before we go exploring.”
Jack made a noise of boredom, but made no move to leave. He just grumbled to himself and sank lower into the chair. It pleased the rabbit that Jack sat at his table, if not at North’s. Aster hoped he wasn’t being too obvious. Inviting Jack to explore the warren was a good cover, but making lunch at the exact moment Jack showed up was a little too on the nose. He wasn’t lying, really, he did need to eat lunch, but Jack didn’t need to know that Aster had pushed lunch back an hour to match up with his arrival.
"Ye mind helping me taste test?” Aster turned back to the wood stove, which was something he’d gotten from the Yetis after admitting that his fireplace and a pot wasn’t sufficient for more interesting meals. Jack was silent for just a moment too long and Aster winced internally, regretting the obvious gesture.
“Okay,” Jack said finally, his tone neutral. Aster was stiff as Jack walked over to him. He stopped by Aster’s right, watching the pot warily. “What is it?”
“It’s a cream soup, with some roots and stuff.” Aster shrugged, trying to remain casual. He ladled a little bit of the soup and held it up to Jack’s face. “Should be a little sweet.”
“It’s orange,” Jack grinned mischievously, a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Like carrots.”
“Well, they’re a good ingredient,” Aster said gruffly, trying not to stare at Jack too hard. This would be worth the humiliation if Jack would taste the damn soup. Jack raised an eyebrow, before blowing out a puff of cold air that was only momentarily visible in the warm air of the burrow. The soup stopped steaming in the ladle. “Uh.”
“Safety hazard, Cottontail. Do you want me to melt?” Jack rolled his eyes. Then he scrunched up his face with determination and carefully took a sip of the soup. He leaned back, licking his lips slowly. Aster watched with concentration, trying to detect any signs of disgust. Jack’s expression was carefully neutral. “Needs more salt, maybe? I’m not sure.”
“Yer not sure?” Aster asked suspiciously. Maybe the soup just wasn’t very good, if Jack couldn’t tell at all. Aster felt ridiculously stupid now. He shouldn’t have bothered with all of this. Jack was an adult, more or less, and could make his own decisions on whether or not he wanted to eat.
“Been a while since I’ve tasted anything other than snow,” Jack shrugged, shrinking back a little. His voice was nonchalant, but his expression was anything but. “I’m not a good taste tester. Sorry.”
“Ah,” Aster said, not knowing what else to say. Of course, Jack hadn’t eaten in some three hundred years. Aster was glad, all of a sudden, that he’d picked something as mild-flavored as a creamy vegetable soup. Anything more than that would arguably be too intense for Jack. “D’ya want some more? I have salt.”
“Nah, it’s too hot, I don’t really think it would work too well with my stomach,” Jack waved a hand in refusal. Aster tried not to frown in disappointment. Maybe he should have made gazpacho or vichyssoise. Those, at the very least, were cold soups. Jack made his way back to the table, but didn’t sit down this time, rather just leaned against his staff. He didn’t look upset, though, which was a relief. “Will you eat quickly?”
“Alright, ya bugger.” Aster scowled. “Hold yer horses.”
The soup, normally delicious, burnt Aster’s tongue right off when he ate it, not bothering to check the temperature himself.
---
Aster watched the swirling ingredients with immense satisfaction as they emulsified slowly. The contraption was loud and almost entirely unnecessary for the rabbit, but Aster was thrilled, for the first time, that North had gifted it to him almost ten years ago, as a joke more than anything else. Tooth wouldn’t be happy, but Aster was feeling desperate.
The ice cream machine burbled happily as Aster fed it some more ice. The sweet scent of vanilla filled the air and Aster breathed in deeply. It smelled like success, early as it was in his venture. Aster grinned to himself and relaxed back onto the countertop.
The hardest part had been figuring out how to find the energy needed to power the machine. Traditionally, humans had used large buckets with hand-cranks to make ice cream. It took lots of time and lots of effort. Neither of these were of large consequence for Aster, considering it was well into summer and Easter was months ago, but they were a little less reliable than a machine. Aster’s first attempt at ice cream had ended poorly, with heavy cream leaking all over the floor.
In the machine, at least, Aster knew the ice cream would stay nice and cool, so long as there was enough ice. It was imperative that the dessert stayed ice-cold. Aster was no real fan of modern electricity, considering where the energy came from and how impactful it was to the environment. He had no desire to bring that into the Warren. Instead, he had installed a water-mill by one of his rivers, hoping that the rapids would provide enough movement to generate electricity.
It hadn’t worked for quite a while, considering that the rapids were not particularly strong. Aster had reluctantly added some boulders along the riverbed, creating a type of dam, which had solved that problem. Once this was over, he could disassemble the whole contraption and remove the rocks, after all.
There was truly no good way to call Jack to visit without arousing suspicion. It wasn’t unusual, though, for Jack to drop by a few times a week. The ice cream would keep, so long as the machine kept running, so Aster let it be. Instead, he took to weeding his much-neglected garden, taking care to speak to every plant and apologize for his absence. The plants, thankfully, seemed to forgive him, as they stood taller and sprouted new leaves.
Aster wandered around his domain, wondering how he had let everything get so overgrown. He’d been busy with ice cream for the past week, sure, but beyond that? It seems like he’d been reticent in his care, taking extra breaks to spend time with a certain winter spirit. It was hard to say no to Jack, when he came over and begged Aster to play. After the Pitch fiasco, the guardians had decided to be more in tune with the humans, to ensure nothing like that could happen again. Aster had tried saying no to Jack before, citing work, but it had been a failing argument as soon as Jack said something, easily taunting the rabbit into abandoning his duties.
However, Jack wasn’t here. The ice cream was happily churning, and the tulips were in desperate need of attention. Aster carefully extracted the weeds, making the occasional comment to the pink and purple flowers that surrounded him. They were good listeners. Aster wondered, not for the first time, if keeping bees was a half-bad idea. It would add to his work, surely, and considering there was no real winter in the Warren, it might be paradise for them. Honey and wax were useful for salves and candles, after all, and even if the plants in the Warren were pollinated through his own movements, it couldn’t harm them to interact with bees.
Maybe Jack would like honey. After all, it was sweet and Aster’s flowers would make the honey delectable. He stored the thought in the back of his mind, more determined than he should be to get some beehives now.
The familiar biting scent of pine and frost alerted Aster of Jack’s arrival long before he could hear his movements. When Jack flew, it was hard to hear anything other than the rustling of wind. He was as light as air. Yet another reason to feed him.
“Working again?” Jack called out from the air. Aster looked up, shielding his eyes from the sunlight. “Come on, Bugs, don’t you ever take breaks?”
“I take plenty of them with ye around,” Aster grumbled as he tried not to smile widely. “Whaddya want?”
“I’m bored!” Jack frowned, landing delicately on some overturned soil. He pressed his feet deep into the soft ground, sinking an inch or two. “It’s early enough in the summer that there isn’t much frost anywhere. There’s nothing I can do except make snowstorms in the Arctic, and I don’t think the birds like it very much.”
“Uh-huh.” Aster responded, sarcasm in his tone. Jack pushed at his shoulder, trying to push him over, probably. A failed effort. Aster stood up and brushed off his thighs. The tulips were weeded, after all, and Jack was here and the ice cream was likely ready. “D’ya want to see something?”
“Anything sounds better than what I’ve been doing,” Jack groaned, tilting his head up to meet Aster’s eyes. Jack’s eyes, blue and bright, were sparkling with expectation. You could almost see the snowy air in them, somehow, with snow flakes falling. Aster had to blink twice before remembering his plan.
“Right, well, follow me,” Aster said when he found his voice. They were just going to have ice cream. Jack might not even like it. It might not even be good.
They didn’t have to go far, Aster had assumed Jack would make an appearance and hadn’t wandered too far from the dye river. The wheel was audibly creaking the closer they walked to it. Jack made a noise of confusion, but didn’t ask what it was.
“Bunny, did you make a dam?” Jack asked, suddenly calling a wind and floating over to the middle of the river. “And is that a water wheel?”
“Yep.”
“Are you joining us in the 21st century, then?” Jack floated over, a chill coming with him. Aster swatted him away gently. Floating, Jack’s head was level with his own, and Aster was tempted to headbutt him.
“I don’t think water wheels are that modern,” he grumbled. He turned away, not wanting Jack to see his expression. Jack’s excitement was easy to catch and Aster didn’t need to be so easily swayed.
“That’s just one part,” he said, as if nothing was the matter. “I have another surprise.”
“I’m waiting?” Jack asked, amusement in his voice.
“Be more patient!” Aster hopped over to where he had set up the ice cream machine. It looked small and pathetic now, when Aster was able to remember how easily Jack could conjure up vast snowstorms. This was stupid.
“What is that!” Jack whispered loudly, hovering right over Aster’s shoulder. The bunny spooked, despite his best efforts.
“That,” he said, grabbing Jack and forcing him on the ground, wondering at the cold feeling through the other’s hoodie. “Is an ice cream machine.”
“An ice cream machine.”
“Yep.”
“Why?” The fascination in Jack’s voice was clear. Aster couldn’t admit the exact reason, so he rubbed the back of his head and shrugged.
“North gave me the machine a while back, never used it.”
“So you build a hydro-electric system, just to try making ice cream?”
“I had some time.” Aster blustered. He felt more than stupid now. As much as he’d put thought into this whole venture, he had not considered a good reason to give Jack about it. He couldn't exactly say “I’m desperately trying to feed you, since I care about you.” That would be a little too embarrassing.
Jack, to his credit, does not pursue the topic. “Okay, well, what flavors did you make?”
“Just the basics,” Aster shrugs. “Vanilla seemed safe.”
“Safe?”
“I don’t know what flavors ya… I like.” Aster finished lamely. “It seemed like a safe bet.”
“Okay, well, have you tried it?”
“Not yet.”
“Were you waiting for me?” Jack asked slyly. “To taste test?”
“So what if I was?” Aster grumbled and walked over to the contraption. He had already left a pair of bowls and spoons here. There was a leaf in one, and he plucked it out. “Don’t lie to me if it’s bad.”
He pulled out a single scoop for them each and turned around, handing Jack his bowl without looking at him. He sat down, a few feet away from the edge of the river, and ate a spoonful. He didn’t have that much experience with ice cream, but it seemed to taste correct to him. Aster looked over to Jack, who was also on his first taste.
“This is good!” Jack closed his eyes, sucking on his spoon. He leaned back where he was sitting and made a noise of delight. Aster had to look away to stop himself from saying or doing something incredibly stupid. Jack was exuding pure delight and happiness and it was so tangible that Aster wanted to reach out and grab it. A part of him, not so small, reveled in the fact that he was the one to create this delight for Jack. At the very least, he could claim he introduced Jack to ice cream.
Except, Tooth would throw a fit, so he wasn’t going to boast about this anytime soon.
Jack continued to eat the ice cream, even going as far as to get seconds once his first bowl was complete. Aster frowned as he realized that there was no way he was getting rid of that waterwheel now. At least it created an interesting site at the Warren, even if the dam was an eyesore.
---
With Christmas having just passed a few days prior, North was throwing the party of the year at the North Pole. It was a yearly event, more or less, but Aster wasn’t exactly a constant attendee. Once Christmas was done, that meant that Easter was getting pretty close. Three months whizzed by if he wasn’t careful.
But he was careful, and he was convinced to attend the party, if only to spare Jack the intense boredom of being there alone. Aster had tried to explain that Tooth and Sandy would drop by, if not for the whole time, but he was secretly pleased that Jack wanted him to attend specifically.
“I don’t even like parties,” Aster had grumbled. It was only half true. He didn’t like large parties, but he liked parties well enough when he was free to attend. It was just risky timing, or so it felt, to leave the Warren and his eggs. The first hatchlings were just starting to sprout out and dip themselves in the dye river. He didn’t like missing that part.
“The eggs practically raise themselves, Aster,” Jack deadpanned. He tried not to puff up at Jack’s use of his name. “Listen, I cannot attend this alone.”
“Okay, okay,” Aster grumbled. “But I’m not staying the whole night.”
“Neither am I!” Jack agreed cheerfully. “The sooner I’m out, the better.”
“Ya better not leave without me,” Aster frowned.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Hard to forget your cottontail, anyway.”
Aster chucked his boomerang at Jack, who swiftly dodged.
So, on December 31st, Aster found himself in the grand halls of North’s workshop, which had been transformed into a gala event. He wasn’t sure how the Yeti’s and the Elves did it so quickly after Christmas, but he suspected North recruited some help from other lesser spirits who were off-duty during winter.
If he was going to be here, though, Aster was going to eat his fill. He couldn’t subtly convince Jack to eat anything here, and if he was honest, he was more interested in feeding the human himself. Jack didn’t need to eat, but Aster did.
He piled his plate, filling it with vegetables and dips and a miniature carrot cake. Jack had floated off to find North when they’d arrived, much to Aster’s irritation. He didn’t want to be alone here either, that just meant that the Groundhog could find him, and he didn’t think he could be rational after last Spring was pushed back six weeks.
He found a dark corner, away from the twinkle lights and festive music. He’d seen Tooth for a moment, but she’d been flitting around and reminding everyone of dental care. He didn’t expect her to chide him, but the dessert on his plate would get him a hard look and a reminder to brush his teeth thoroughly. Sandy was nowhere in sight, but Aster could see his sand swirling around outside. He didn’t exactly get a break from creating dreams.
The assortment of celery, bell peppers, carrot sticks, and broccoli cheered him up immensely. The olive oil he dipped them in had a distinct flavor and Aster delighted in the richness of the fats mixing with the crunchiness of the vegetables. He sank to the floor, relieved that he did take the night off. It was stressful to be away from his work, but evidently very necessary. Jack was right, the eggs were able to handle themselves now anyway.
In his corner, he could turn his ears away from the greater noises and have a moment of solitude and silence. He set his plate to the side and closed his eyes. Even in his relaxed state, he contemplated colors and designs for the eggs. That was potentially the most important aspect of the egg, after all. Easter colors were some of the most memorable parts of his holiday.
Aster wondered if it would be crass to include some designs with snowflakes. Maybe that would be too idiotic. North would know, and he’d never hear the end of it. It was bad enough that Sandy could see his dreams sometimes, bad enough that Jack starred in them more than he didn’t. The air cooled fractionally. Aster opened his eyes to see that Jack was there, cross-legged and floating in front of him.
“I thought you were asleep just then.” Jack whispered, as if still unsure. He moved to Aster’s side, sitting with his back against the wall. “North is looking for you.”
“Ah, pish.” Aster closed his eyes again and leaned his head back against the wall. The bricks behind him were warm. He wondered how that felt to Jack.
“I told him you were supposed to be here.”
“I wouldn’t bail without telling ya.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Aster felt Jack shrug next to him. The movement settled him closer to the rabbit. “Didn’t think you’d leave without saying hi to North, though. Told him I’d mention it if I found you.”
“Found me ya did.” Aster opened his eyes and turned to look at Jack, whose eyes were closed now. Their shoulders were pressed against each other, Aster’s much higher than Jack’s. Snowflakes formed around him and floated down to the ground. “D’ya mean ta make those?”
“Make what?” Jack opened his eyes and sat up straight, moving further away, as if in surprise at his own closeness. “The snowflakes?”
“‘Course.”
“Yes and no?” Jack shrugged. “It’s unconscious, to keep me comfortable, I guess, but I usually control the aspect.”
“‘S that why ye’re covered in frost sometimes?”
“Uh-huh.” Jack said. “It’s too warm here, for it being the North Pole.”
“I think we’re against a chimney,” Aster said drily. The heat was extremely pleasant against his back, but Jack didn’t seem like a creature made for the warmth. “North’s favorite entrance and exit.”
Jack cracked a smile, his white teeth glowing in the dark. Aster turned to his plate of food and picked it up to distract himself. He still hadn’t touched the cake.
“What’s that?” Jack peered at the plate, squinting, “no, wait a sec, don’t tell me. Is that carrot cake?”
“Rack off,” Aster nudged Jack away. It wasn’t possible to deny the accusation, the cake had a carrot iced on it. “It’s good and I’ve been doin’ heaps of work.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say your name is Bugs.”
“Bugs Bunny ain’t even a real rabbit.”
“I don’t know, what’s up, doc?” Jack said. It was a poor imitation of the cartoon. Aster huffed. “Oh, come on, it’s funny.”
He didn’t respond.
“Oh, come on, Cottontail,” Jack whined. “I didn’t mean it, don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad.” Aster said. And really, he wasn’t, but it was a little fun to tease Jack for once. Jack huffed. “I’m not, no dramas, promise.”
“You eat a lot of carrots, though, it’s hard not to make the joke.” Jack said. “They can’t possibly be good in a cake.”
“That’s where yer wrong!” Aster said. “They’re juicy and create a good moisture for the cake.”
“Seems fake.” Jack raised an eyebrow, still leaning over Aster and looking at the cake in his plate. Aster took the small fork that came with the dessert and scooped up a forkful. He offered it up to Jack, holding the utensil up to his mouth.
“Try it.”
It was an extraordinarily intimate pose, and Aster was close to taking back his offer as soon as he made it. Jack didn’t move, though.
He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the fork. Jack made a face of consternation and then leaned forward and took the fork in his mouth. He didn’t chew at first, maybe just tasting the flavors. Aster dug the fork back into the dessert and ate his own forkful, trying not to draw any attention to himself. Jack was sitting on his knees now, eyebrows furrowed with concentration.
“Ya don’t like it.”
“No, I like it,” Jack said. “I think. I don’t taste any carrots.”
“Nah, it doesn’t taste like carrots, really.”
“I don’t get it.” Jack scowled.
“I’ll make it fer ya later if ya like.” Aster smiled, hoping it was dark enough that Jack’s eyes couldn’t see the affection in his expression.
Jack shot him a critical look, eyebrows furrowed. He thought for a moment before shrugging. “Maybe. Give me another taste.”
---
Aster couldn’t claim to be an amazing chef. He could cook, of course, but he usually made meals he liked, with resources he grew. It was rare he went out of his way to get ingredients from outside the Warren. Beyond that, he didn’t eat meat, for obvious reasons. If he was honest, the majority of his meals were based around salads and other leafy greens.
He didn’t admit to that, of course, seeing that no one would ever let him live down the herbivore lifestyle.
But still, salads were good and could be created in variety. There were infinite combinations and plenty of different vegetables Aster was able to grow. He found himself, as it reached closer and closer to Easter, just feasting on just plain lettuce at times. It was lucky that he hadn’t been caught, but given that almost no one visited him, maybe it was to be expected.
Since Jack, though, he had to be a little more careful. Oftentimes, without him even realizing, Jack would stop by and spook him in the Warren. It had already happened twice, thankfully with Aster eating a full meal, rather than a head of lettuce. Still, Jack didn’t have the decorum to announce his visits, so Aster was always on the watch. It was one thing to be caught having salads for every meal, another to be caught just eating a plain head of lettuce. Jack would never let him live it down, and once he told North…
Well, Aster wasn’t sure he cared to find out how many decades it would take for the rabbit food jokes to ebb.
It was good, too, that the stone eggs that carefully guarded the Warren’s entrances could communicate through each other. It wasn’t a language that made sense, per se, but warnings could be given through the rumbling of their movements. A vibrational type of speech that Aster was well attuned to. So when Jack’s arrival was forthcoming, he had a moment to hide the butterhead lettuce he had been munching on. His pile of eggs, thankfully, make an excellent hiding spot.
“Tooth said if she finds out you haven’t been sleeping she’ll kidnap you,” Jack said in lieu of a hello. Aster snorted and continued to paint slim strokes of dye onto the egg in his hand.
“I’ve been sleeping,” Aster grumbled. “No hellos?”
“Why start now?” It was Jack’s turn to snort. He floated down and picked up an already finished egg. “Why, Bunny, are there snowflakes on here?”
“Just a few,” Aster frowned, finally looking over at the human. “Don’t get too excited, it’ll go straight to yer head.”
“I didn’t know you cared,” Jack said, mockingly placing a hand on his chest. “Maybe you do like winter.”
“Absolutely not, ya drongo,” Aster scoffed, placing down his egg before he ruined the linework he was working so carefully on. “It’s just a design. The tots like it.”
“The tots,” Jack said, emphasizing the word with a poor imitation of Aster’s own accent, “also like anything. They don’t have much of an artistic interest with your delicate designs.”
“Oi!”
Aster’s anger was half-hearted. He knew Jack was only teasing. The same way Jack knew Aster knew. Aster also knew that Jack being here meant he wasn’t out wreaking havoc and snowstorms on the topside, meaning that the world would be thawing out in time for Easter.
“Tell Tooth I’ve been sleeping,” Aster rubbed his eyes. He had been sleeping. Maybe not as much as he should, but he’d been doing better this year than the last. “And eatin’, too.”
“Really? Because, if I check the time…” Jack made a great show of checking an invisible watch on his slim wrist, even pulling up the sleeve of his hoodie to check his arm. “Well, I don’t know, ‘Roo, I’m not seeing your lunch.”
Aster grumbled at that. He had been eating something until a certain sprite had shown up uninvited, thank you very much. It wasn’t his fault he valued his pride more than finishing his lunch. “I was going to make a salad.”
“When?”
“Now.” Aster said staunchly. Thankfully, he painted near his crops. It was useful to be near the beets and berries when painting eggs, anything he could use to add a little more color to his designs if needed. He stood up, now looming over Jack, who had crouched down earlier. “Ya want a salad?”
“I’m good.”
In his shadow, Jack’s expression had flattened out, no longer sparkling with humor. There was a small crease between his brows. His mouth was slightly open from the laughter, but his jack was tight. Aster could just see the blueish tint of Jack’s veins under his skin. He wondered, not for the first time, if he was making a huge mistake in crossing this line that Jack had developed.
Aster turned away from Jack, embarrassed enough by his lapse that he couldn’t face him. He wandered over to the closest plot with a variety of vegetables. A toss-up salad it would be, he didn’t have it in him to pick out each ingredient to compliment the other. He grabbed a new head of lettuce, quietly mourning the one he had abandoned under his eggs. He’d be back for it, but only once Jack had left.
He held the vegetables unevenly in his paws. The wind rustled behind him and Jack appeared, reaching over and taking several of the teetering greens before they slipped out. Jack pulled out a carrot and held it up to Aster to look at.
“What’s up, doc?” Jack’s eyes glinted with humor. Aster sagged imperceptibly and shook his head, letting out a huff. He started walking back to his burrow.
“Yer terrible.”
“I’m your favorite.”
“Eh, it’s hard to say,” Aster hedged. Jack was, of course, his favorite, but he didn’t need to let the other guardian know that. His head was big enough as it was.
“Who else has access to the Warren?”
“Just about every other guardian, mate.”
“Unlimited access?” Jack needled, floating ahead next to him.
“Well…” Aster didn’t need to finish his sentence. “D’ya not use yer legs?”
“I do.” Jack scowled and settled down, walking beside Aster, albeit a foot behind now. “It’s harder to keep up. And the wind is easier.”
“The wind spoils ya.”
“So do you,” Jack said lightly. Aster didn’t know how to respond, couldn’t respond, even if he knew how. So he said nothing. To Jack’s credit, he didn’t push for a response either, probably didn’t need anything more than Aster’s silence to confirm his own thoughts.
Jack had the wind open the door to Aster’s home when they arrived. The cutting board was already out, a product of Aster’s repeated salad intake, and Aster cringed at the sight of his kitchen. It was an absolute mess, different bowls of dye scattered on the earthen counters, paintbrushes sitting in tubs of water and solvent, some splashes of color on the floors. “It’s a bit of a mess, sorry.”
“Nothing can be worse than North’s workshop during Christmas,” Jack said. “The elves really make messes.”
“That they do,” Aster hummed. He couldn’t fix the mess in his home at the moment, but he could maneuver some things so that it didn’t look nearly so bad. After settling the produce near the cutting board, he scooped up the paintbrushes, which were all fairly clean by now, and laid them out on some absorbent moss to dry off. He took the liquid containers off the counter and pushed them off to the side. There wasn’t much to be done about the stains, those would clear up over time as they were absorbed into the earth. At the very least, his counter looked much cleaner.
Jack had washed the vegetables and had started experimentally slicing up some of the lettuce, although his cuts were uneven and choppy. It was certainly due to the time he spent with Aster while he prepared his own meals, and Aster couldn’t stop the pleased rumble that exited him. Jack didn’t seem to notice. “Ye got the lettuce then?”
“Yeah, think so,” Jack was focusing very hard on the food. “Think I’ve done this before. Y’know… Before.”
“Right,” Aster mumbled, feeling guilty now. He took a closer look at the cutting board. “Oh, iceberg lettuce.”
“What?” Jack looked up, pausing his movements.
“Yer cutting iceberg lettuce.”
“There is no way this is called iceberg lettuce.”
“It is,” Aster replied. He hadn’t realized when he’d plucked it, but lo and behold, he’d picked the most ironic lettuce he could have. There was just something about giving the literal embodiment of winter an iceberg lettuce sparked joy. “I swear it.”
“You’re joking, you have to be!” Jack’s expression was so baffled that Aster couldn’t help but laugh. “No way this is named after icebergs.”
“It used ta be crisphead lettuce,” Aster snickered. “Dunno why they changed it.”
“Well, iceberg definitely sounds better than crisphead,” Jack muttered grimly. He went back to hacking at the lettuce.
“Give it here, Jack, yer gonna ruin me lunch,” Aster said, pushing Jack over with a push from his hip. Jack handed over the knife and moved away.
“Well, now I think I have to try it,” Jack said solemnly, leaning against the counter and plucking a leaf off the plant. “I know icebergs the best, after all.”
A pleasant warmth spread from Aster’s chest through his body. It was almost the same as Jack agreeing to taste something he’d cooked. After all, Aster tended to his vegetables and assisted their growth. It was more than just preparing the meal.
“It’s crunchy.” Jack said, face twisted with confusion. “Why do they call this iceberg lettuce? It tastes nothing like ice.”
---
“What’s this?” Jack asked curiously, peering around Aster’s shoulder. The rabbit jumped, although only slightly. He could hear Jack snicker behind him.
“Ah, uh, well,” Aster mumbled, too conscious of how close Jack was. He could feel the cold radiating off of Jack’s face. His own cheeks heated up, although his fur did plenty to keep him warm. The chocolate melting in the pot let out a little air bubble. “Choccies.”
“Right, well, I can see that,” Jack snorted, leaning further down and taking a deep breath. Aster didn’t blame him, the chocolate smelled good. He’d added some orange flavors to it, the tartness bringing out the sweetness of the dark chocolate. He just had to let it temper and then he’d set it in a mold. “It smells… like citrus?”
“Good catch,” Aster cleared his throat. “Ya won’t get scurvy on my watch.”
Jack let out a quiet noise of amusement and closed his eyes, his face still hovering over the pot. The warmth steamed to his face, creating a slight dewy look. For a moment, Aster worried he was really melting with the heat. Aster pulled him back gently, letting his paw linger against Jack’s shoulder. Jack pressed into the touch before standing up straight, as if intoxicated by the warmth. “I’d like to try that.”
“I was hoping you would,” Aster smiled down at him. It was pointless pretending that wasn’t his intention. With Easter next week, he would have never called Jack, let alone anyone else, over. His kitchen was a mess, full of chocolate and candies, all little gifts to go alongside the Easter eggs. Jack’s appearance was a surprise, although not an unwelcome or unexpected one. “It’ll be a mo, though.”
Jack hummed in response. Aster focused on the chocolate again. He didn’t use a thermometer to measure if the chocolate was getting too hot, and so he had to rely on his own experience of knowing when to pour it out. The chocolate was almost ready.
“How long have you been trying to feed me, Aster?” Jack murmured quietly, looking at the rows of chocolate molds that scattered the counters and table. He leaned lightly against Aster’s shoulder, just barely pressing his weight against him. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
Aster deflated. Of course Jack noticed. He probably knew the moment Aster had asked him to taste the cream soup all those months ago. He would have definitely been able to figure it out from the ice cream. Even without saying anything, Aster wasn’t subtle about his actions. It was hard to be subtle about feeding someone, after all. “Since that meetin’. Last year, after Easter.”
“Where I mentioned I was, uh… Dead?” Jack asked slowly. Aster winced at the word dead and Jack shrugged in apology.
“Yeah,” Aster picked the pot off the stove and moved over to the counter where he would temper it. He let the mixture cool slightly, before adding some more pieces of colder chocolate in. Jack followed, leaning against Aster’s again to watch. Aster did his best to keep his movement smooth, although all of his fur was starting to stand up. It was a good thing he was so practiced in making chocolate, because all he could focus on was the cool skin he felt against him. “Yer still human, ya know.”
“Maybe,” Jack said doubtfully. “Why are you mixing these?”
“Need ta cool down the choccies a bit,” Aster said, almost glad to pass off the conversation. He couldn’t really deal with another stressor on top of Easter coming so soon. “Otherwise it won’t set right.”
“Sure.”
“Why’re ya here, snowflake?” Aster asked, almost regretfully. He didn’t want to chase Jack away, but there was no real reason for him to be here. “Don’cha have some snowstorms ta create?”
“I’m on break,” Jack said. He checked an invisible watch on his wrist, “for at least another hour.”
“Really?” Aster asked. “I thought this was yer favorite time ta harass me and mine.”
“Hmm, I was thinking of leaving Easter alone. Y’know. Global warming and all that.”
“Huh,” Aster said. He poured the now tempered chocolate into their molds. They’d be shaped like cubes. “Well, if ya wanna wait, the choccies will be ready by then.”
“Good.” Jack said. Aster glanced over at Jack, who was still against his side. Through the white hair, he could see that Jack’s cheeks were decidedly flushed red.
---
There was something crisp and biting in the air. The topside was always a bit strange, with the various effects of humankind on the planet, but Aster could tell this chill was intentional. Aster scrunched his nose up as a wave of cool wind brushed across his face. “Oi!”
“Hey, Bunny,” Jack called from above. Aster looked up to see Jack perched on a branch like a bird. “What brings you topside?”
“I’m inviting Spring back, no thanks to ye,” Aster grumbled. He hadn’t seen Jack in a few weeks and was more than worried it was his own fault. He couldn’t help the explosion of joy that crept around his chest. “Yer stupid flurries…”
“I can feel that, y’know,” Jack said abruptly. Aster froze. “Your excitement.”
“Can ya now?” Aster said slowly. He worked on keeping his voice neutral. “What does it… Uh… Feel like?”
“It’s bright,” Jack said quietly, looking at his own palm, where frost spread on his fingers and then melted when the sunlight hit the crystals. “Like bursts of energy during fireworks. Like the giddiness of staying up until the sun rises. Like opening a gift.”
“Like the first snow?” Aster said tentatively. He watched the corner of Jack’s mouth tilt up into a slight smile.
“Like the first sunny day after winter,” Jack said, barely louder than a whisper. Aster had to point his ears over just to hear it.
“And ye can feel all that?” Aster asked. He made his way over to Jack’s tree, hopping up the side and onto a thicker branch below the human. He wouldn’t fit on the slimmer branches, so there was no point trying to get closer. Next to Jack, the air was colder. Aster could see his own breath coming out in puffs.
“Yes.” Jack whispered. He wasn’t looking at Aster. “I liked those chocolates, last time.”
“I was worried ya didn’t.” Aster said, just as quiet. “Ye left pretty quick after.”
“Yeah, Lake Michigan was calling.” Jack said. “I needed to help her stir up some snow, the lake effect was really powerful this year.”
“Ye didn’t come back.”
“No.”
“I thought ya were upset.” Aster said, peering carefully at Jack. His pale skin tinted pink again. It was a nice color, almost like the early peony blossoms that scattered the houses he passed. “That I was trying ta make ya eat.”
“I was upset.” Jack murmured, looking at Aster, his blue eyes pleading. “But not because you were giving me food.”
Aster waited. Jack’s eyes flickered down and then away again. The air grew a few degrees cooler. After a moment of quiet, he pushed, “then why?”
“I was upset because I,” Jack sighed, pressing his hands to his face. Aster could see the frost sticking to his skin now, and not melting. “Because I liked it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve spent a long time being inhuman, you know?” Jack lowered his hands from his face and crossed his arms, as if he was hugging himself. “I mean, no one saw me for three hundred years. And the only other remotely human being in our group is North. And he’s, well, a little too old to remember the details.”
Aster nodded. This made sense to him. Jack was so young when he was immortalized, but he wasn’t that old, in all things related to being a guardian. North was much older. Tooth was a bird. He was a rabbit. Sandy was literal stardust. Not exactly a normal bunch.
“It’s scary, being more human.” Jack murmured. “The food, it made things… more… alive for me.”
“Well, eating is a big parta life.”
“Other things.” Jack pressed, glaring at Aster now, eyebrows furrowed. “Especially around you. You and all your… excitement.”
“Oh.” Aster leaned away, a pit in his stomach. It wasn’t the first time his feelings were too overwhelming for others. “I can go.”
“No, that’s not.” Jack sighed. “No, don’t go.”
Aster did not go. He didn’t lean back in either. Jack suddenly laughed.
“No, you stupid kangaroo.” He pulled on the strap of Aster’s bandolier, pulling him closer. “I’m just scared of all the human feelings.”
“We all got ‘human’ feelings, Jack.” Aster said quietly, not looking at Jack now. “Me, more than most.”
“‘Cause of all the hope?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you feel it?”
“What, hope?” Aster asked, peering up at Jack, who was looking at him with a thoughtful expression. “Yer hope?”
Jack nodded.
“Yes,” Aster nodded. “It was weaker. Y’know. Before.”
“I wasn’t very hopeful before.”
“It’s gotten bigger recently, not sure why though.”
“You are the stupidest rabbit I have ever met. It’s ‘cause of you.” Jack said bluntly. Aster met his gaze, which was guileless and open. “And all your stupid meals.”
Aster was stunned. His own hope burbled inside him. Something he had ignored and pushed away, since it seemed a pipe dream. Hope was important, and he guarded it with his very being, but he didn’t always give into his own desires. After all, hope was a double-edged sword, and too much of it could cause just as many problems as it could solve. He hesitantly lifted his paw and reached for Jack, before letting it fall. “I’m not sure…”
“Oh, come on.”
“Jack, I…”
“Tell me why you’ve been making food for me.” Jack’s voice was firm. He shifted off the higher branch and joined Aster on the lower one, sitting down with his legs dangling. Aster copied his pose.
“Ye haven’t had it, in what, three hundred years?” Aster responded weakly.
“So? I’m not sure Tooth has either.” Jack crossed his arms and leaned against Aster’s shoulder. Aster looked out at the street in front of them. “It’s not that.”
“No, it’s not.” Aster muttered. “I wanted ta… Take care of ya.”
“Why?” Jack’s voice was small.
“Ye know why.” Aster said, voice just as small. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Fine.” Jack’s voice was like a shot. Aster could feel Jack turn to face him. “Prove it.”
Aster turned to look at Jack, his own brow furrowed. Hadn’t he already proven it? Jack knew, obviously he knew. He took a hard look at Jack. His cheeks were flushed a full red, his face set in an obstinate expression. His chin jutted forward with resolution and his dark eyebrows were furrowed. Aster blew out a breath. “Yer doing a lot of accusing for someone who has more ta prove.”
“Fine, then I’ll prove it.” Jack said resolutely, already shifting his position to face Aster better. He pressed a cold hand against Aster’s whiskers and planted the absolute worst kiss onto his face. Aster, stunned, just stared at him as his face got redder and redder.
“Jack, was that yer first kiss?” Aster said when he could speak without laughing.
“It may have been,” Jack blustered and turned to face away. “Listen! I didn’t really have time to explore kissing, if it wasn’t obvious! Someone has to—”
Aster pulled Jack around to face him and leaned into him, gently pressing his mouth against Jack’s. It was a little difficult, seeing that Aster didn’t have lips the same way Jack did, but it worked. Jack didn’t move for a moment, shocked into stillness, but then he responded, pressing closer to Aster, his arms coming up to hold his face. Aster could feel the chill from Jack’s hands pushing through his fur, but he didn’t care, there was a much bigger feeling he could sense.
Jack’s hope was lifting and growing and magnifying, filling up the air around them. Aster could feel his own hope bursting in tandem. He gently pulled away and opened his eyes, meeting Jack’s, which were wide in amazement.
The tree they were in was in full bloom, with little white pear blossoms budding and opening around them. Aster let out an embarrassed laugh. “Got a little carried away, I guess.”
“Do you mean it?” Jack asked, voice breathless. He was leaning into Aster fully now, who was practically supporting his body weight.
“That I got carried away?” Aster frowned. “Look around, mate? Evidence is here.”
“No, the joy!” Jack was glaring at him. “It’s bursting out of you, do you mean it?”
“Yer the one who can feel it!” Aster felt a little like a teenager for a moment, and it was embarrassing enough that he swiped his face with a paw. “Yes, Snowdrop, I mean it. Yes, I love you.”
“Hence the food.”
“Correct.”
“Good.” Jack had the gall to look embarrassed now. He cleared his throat and stared back out at the street. “I love you, too, y’know.”
Aster imitated his movement, looking back at the street. Warmth was filling every part of his body, enough so that he didn’t feel the chill which had increased rapidly in the past few minutes. The entire street, it seemed, had gotten a fresh blanket of snow. He turned over to the human, who had the decency to look very sheepish.
“Jack, ye’ve absolutely ruined my spring.”
“My bad.”