Chapter Text
"Ow ow ow ow owowowow-!" Jack was sure Toothiana was going to rip his ear off as she tugged him through the portal to North's workshop; God knew she looked like she wanted to start lopping off body parts.
"You- you have lost your mind!" she said, not for the first time. In fact, most everything she'd said for the last few minutes was some variation on the theme of questioning Jack's sanity. The rest had been dire threats to gather the rest of the Guardians so they could see how Jack had lost his mind and lock him up in a nice, safe padded cell until sanity returned.
She didn't let go until the elf riding a storm cloud nearly zapped them both.
Jack took a minute to enjoy the return of his freedom, trying to massage some feeling back into his ear while Tooth gaped at the chaos unfolding on the workshop floor.
The yetis had thrown up fortifications, but some of the elves were industriously destroying them from the bottom up. North was directing the yetis in their defense, but sometimes it's just really hard to hit a creature that's less than a foot tall... especially when they have air support. Someday, Jack would have to find out where they'd found elf sized aviator goggles... or how the elves had learned to pilot their mini-storm clouds so quickly. The airborne elves strafed North and the yetis, zapping them with tiny lightning bolts to keep them from the ground crew.
Mother Nature clapped and giggled like a girl, welcoming the squadron back with open arms as the first of the fortifications started to collapse. "Very good, my darlings! You do yourselves proud!"
Elves poured out of the woodwork, descending on the crack in North's defenses with shrill war cries as North marshaled his troops.
"Flying elves..." Jack muttered as the squadron circled Mother Nature like so many eager puppies.
"Nothing good can come of that," Toothiana whispered back, unwilling to draw attention.
"I think I hit her with one too many joy filled snowballs."
There was a great shout from North's side, and a platoon of elves scampered back to Mother Nature and their base of operations with their prize. One of the yetis made a desperate grab, only to be zapped and gently drizzled on by the squadron. The tin of cookies was presented with great ceremony, and Mother Nature accepted it with remarkable grace and dignity, making a great show of eating one. The elves cheered, and North did his best to hide his own laughter.
The only ones not enjoying themselves were the yetis, who looked ready to mutiny.
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Bunnymund's expression was thunderous, but that was forgivable. He'd come up right under one of Mother Nature's flying honor guard and gotten drizzled on for his trouble. He stood there for a few moments, dripping and furious as he a hundred different things tried to get said at once. Finally he settled on a loud, firm, "Why?" It covered a whole range of questions that he wanted answered, starting with Why would anyone give the elves the ability to fly?
Sandman hovered at eye level, helpfully producing a dream-sand bust of Mother Nature with a swarm of tiny elves racing around on clouds. Bunnymund froze, nose twitching as his ears flattened down. "She's here? That sheila's completely starkers! Who let- of course. Jack bloody Frost." Bunnymund rested a hand lightly on his boomerang, forcing his ears up. "We get called in to run her off, then?"
Sandman shook his head quickly, summoning up a little image of Pitch. The image shifted suddenly to Pitch in a style of armor that Bunnymund hadn't seen in centuries, little snowflakes falling around him.
Somewhere, an elf let out a war cry that really shouldn't have been terrifying... but it was.
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"Are you out of your mind?"
"Y'know, I'm getting kinda tired of people asking me that," Jack pointed out. "How is this a bad idea? We get rid of Pitch Black for good, reunite a broken family, and maybe Mother Nature stops lobbing lightning bolts at us every time she's feeling peeved. It's a win-win-win!"
"The problem," Toothiana sighed, speaking slowly, "is there's no way to be sure we can even do this! There might be nothing left of this Kozmotis Pitchner to wake up."
"Mother Nature thinks there is."
"Maybe," Bunnymund drawled. "Or maybe she's seeing things she wants to see. Wouldn't be the first time," he added, not unkindly. "People will cling to the smallest things if that thing gives them hope."
North drummed his fingers on his belly, his expression distant as thoughtful as he offered his opinion. "What does it cost us to try? As Jack says, we succeed and it is all win. If not... then we tried."