hc / fic idea: jack still has his old cloak, he just doesnt wear it in the movies bc it’d gotten ripped back during the blizzard of ’68 and he’d been too busy to fix it since then (listen, when you’re immortal ~40 years can seem like theyre like 5, ok?)
he mentions it once offhandedly to bunny, who immediately feels guilty bc it was ripped by him, and in the same second gets a wonderful, terrible idea: so he asks where jack keeps it.
“in this old snow cave i use to sleep in during the summers,” jack replies, then asks, slightlh confused, “why d’you wanna know?”
“no reason,” lies aster.
(the cloak’s fixed, with ice and snowflake patterns stitched painstakingly to the centuries-old close up the holes, and if aster’d also maybe, slightly magically reinforced the old thing the same way he’d done all of his old clothes from the golden age of old, from before the pooka massacre… well. the old thing clearly meant a lot to the blighter, for the sentimental value it had and newly-regained memories it represented even if nothing else. he was just doing a close mate of his a kindhearted favour, that’s all; nothing special to it, no sir.)
(jack finds it the morning after aster leaves it on top of his always-frozen lake, in a neat, green, somehow egg-patterned (“really not tryin’ to be subtle here, huh, cottontail?”) box with a white bow in top. he runs to the warren as soon as he’s put the snowflake-patterned thing on and tackles aster in the biggest bear hug he’s capable of giving the pooka.
aster kindly chooses to ignore the slight wetpatch the frostbite leaves in his fur, during said bear hug. guess that cloak’d meant more to the winter sprite then he’d first thought, after all.)
