It has been only one month, since the Guardians got Jack Frost to help them beat the Boogeyman. One month can feel like ten years, if one was to spend it closed in, below the ground. Not to mention the first few days, when he desperately tried to loose the Nightmares that tailed him.
Compared to the power he once possessed, it was pathetic.
Pitch felt pathetic. Maybe, that is why she decided to show up for a visit.
He was looking at the Globe, remorseful of all the bright lights, when he felt a whiff of fresh air. Soon after, it turned into a light breeze that carried a feeling of late spring. The dusty floor of his cave started sprouting grass and flowers, the walls were slowly hiding behind growing ivy. A few moments later, she came in, in all her ambiguous beauty, so familiar to any man and woman. A blooming spring followed behind her, as if it was an Empress's entourage.
She would come to him every so often, for the reasons Pitch could not fathom. Maybe she comes to visit all the spirits, he wouldn't know. But every time he looked into at her face – a changing face, that one can't quite remember - the Boogeyman could see a few constant features that remind him of his own look. Pitch always thought that it was a part of her being the Mother Nature; yet there was this feeling that they shared history, long-long time ago. This time, he had the same feeling, but as usual, brushed it aside.
If my mind decided that I don't need this memory, so be it.
Meanwhile, the Mother Nature smiled at the Boogeyman.
"Hello! I missed you." She waved at him, and sat at a table. The table seemed to appear out of nowhere, with a plain cloth and an exquisitely looking tea set. Pitch said, "Hi," and sat across from her.
"Oh," she looked at him, "I didn't distract you or anything?"
"No…"
"I won't be long, though," she smiled again.
It was amazing how everything looked so alive in her presence; even the air around her seemed to be… moving, somehow. Her visits always changed the interior of Pitch's cave, completely masking any traces of creepiness and darkness of the Nightmares Master's residence. As for herself, the Mother Nature never seemed to be still - she pulsated with life. It was hard to describe how she looked; at this hour, she looked like a grove in May.
Sipping her tea, she put one arm under her chin and asked:
"How are you? How's work?"
"Meh," he looked away, "could be better, could be worse…"
"Aw, well, it'll pass," she said reassuringly, "Any interesting stories?"
"Well," Pitch gave a little smile, "There is this little boy…"
He told about a five-years old boy, named William, who went to a zoo for the first time, and out of all animals, was scared of peacocks the most. Pitch thought it was hilarious. She found it funny and giggled.
"And how are things on your end?" Pitch wondered.
"Oh, same old, making sure all is balanced and well-circulated, checking in with the currents…" she waved her hand dismissively. Her work did not involve a lot of personal stories, like the one about little William; it was more global. The two of them were from completely different worlds.
They sat in silence for a moment.
"You should get out more often," she said, "get some fresh air, and meet some people."
He nodded, "I do." His tone had a bit of spite to it.
"You shouldn't sit here, I mean, look at this place," she gestured around the grey room (newly placed floral decorations aside), "it's so dark and closed up, you barely get any light in here. It is not healthy."
"Mhm."
Somehow, coming from her, it was forgivable. Even more so, Pitch felt slight guilt for knowing that her advice will be dismissed.
They talked some more: about how the world changed since they last met, how it created more material to draw nightmares from, and how different the seasons now look. It was small talk, very light-hearted, not bearing any serious issues.
After a small pause, she looked at him, still having a small smile on her face, and asked:
"Remember, how you used to tell me fairy-tales?"
Pitch furrowed his brows:
"You mean, about the nightmares?"
Her smile broadened a bit, but her ever-changing face now had a sad look to it.
"Nevermind."
Pitch felt a very brief storm of mixed feelings: this tiny sensation that the whole meeting had a meaning; and, also, this other one. He could not describe the other one, but it canceled out the first sensation. As if there was a big decision he made so long ago that he doesn't remember it anymore.
Whatever it is, it is not important; otherwise, I would not forget.
The Mother Nature stood up, and said, cheerfully:
"Well, it was good to see you."
"Yes, you too," Pitch quickly stood up; a moment later, there was no table to be found.
"Sorry, can't stay longer. Lots of work," she waved him a goodbye, "later!"
"Until then."
Pitch watched how she came out the way she entered, taking away the liveliness and the fresh spring breeze. The second she was gone, all the flora turned to dust, adding another layer to the Boogeyman's bland floor.
Pitch looked at his Globe, and smirked.
"A month is enough. Time to scare some children."
First of all, thank you to all of those, who reviewed my previous RotG story. It is always good to know that people like my stories - it cheers me up!
Second, about this story. I found an info about Pitch's daughter - that she has become the Mother Nature. This is my variation on their current relationship.
Please tell me, what you think, about their relationship, and about the story.