The Moon and the Sun, the Cold and the Dark
That night, it was colder than usual. Elsa slowly walked towards the balcony, her silvery blond hair unbraided and trailing down her back. She looked out at the vast, untapped wilderness before her. Endless rows of mountains, each higher than the other, towering the northern lands. But it was on North Mountain where the Snow Queen's giant castle laid, perfectly hidden from plain view, snow flurries dancing around it like a giant blanket covering a child. Elsa loved it this way. No one bothered her, no one was foolish to traverse the treacherous, icy mountain slopes to climb and enter her fortress of solitude. No one, except for … him. The one who was always there, even during the dark nights where she could not fall asleep, where the nightmares would creep into her mind, her thoughts that she kept carefully guarded for many years, inside her fragile mind. Oh how she loathed his presence at first. He was every inch the unwelcomed guest. A dark parasite, preying on her innocent mind, feeding off of her every fear. And yet, he remained, even during those times when she cried herself to sleep or when she screamed out in vain at the world, her voice echoing off against the lonely mountain ridges, no answer returning her painful outcries. He was there. He stayed. He listened. He did not mock her. He simply stayed and stood there, in the shadows, part of the shadows, forever watching over her. And in time, she learned to trust him, to open up to him, to share all her pain and sorrow with him, to pour out her soul to another being who understood what it felt like to be considered a monster. A … witch.
"Tell me … please tell me, that story you always told me, about how the sun loved the moon so much, that he died every night just to let her breathe."
Pitch Black stared at Elsa, the Snow Queen. His Snow Queen. He moved closer to her as he wrapped his arms around her slender shoulders. He gently caressed her long silvery-blonde hair.
"Kozmotis Pitchiner, I do believe you've become quite the hopeless romantic." Elsa loved teasing her dark lord. He was so easy to tease. She enjoyed these private moments, tucked inside their bed, the moonlight shining down on them, casting an ethereal glow around the icy blue-black bed chamber. Not a care in the world. No one to bother them. They were free to be themselves, to speak freely, no one there to pass judgment on them.
"Have I now? Well I do believe it is all thanks to you, my dear. What have you done to me? What have you done to my heart? This heart that I thought was lost forever to the shadows and Fearlings, this soul that is still tainted and laced with the shadows and darkness. What have you done, my fragile and lovely Snow Queen?"
Elsa tilted her head to the side, her eyes softening, nothing but love reflected from them. "Nothing. I've done nothing. You did it yourself. You broke free. You broke away from the chains of the past, from the grasps of those awful creatures, from the Fearlings that stole your very being, that stole who you really are. You did it. Not me. I …" She hesitated, her crimson stained lips quivering slightly "… I was only there to guide you, to … to help you remember and to show you that though there may be darkness all around you, the light will always be there to shine. The light will always shine brightest in the dark. And …"
She need not finish her sentence as Pitch gently caressed her cheeks and titled her head up. "And you were and still are that very light that shined when nothing else would in the depths of my despair and darkness. You, the very person I never thought would save me, who was just as hurt and broken as I was … you. You are fascinating, wonderful, and stronger than you seem." He pulled her face closer to his until their lips met. Her lips, such sweetness he never felt before, at least, not since that long forgotten past where he once kissed his deceased wife, Lady Pitchiner. It was difficult for him to relive his past, to witness the Golden Age at its glory, and its tragic downfall at his hands. It was all heart-wrenchingly difficult, yet Elsa was there to endure and experience it all with him.
"I'm not that strong, Pitch. I never was. I tried for so long to put up a mask of bravery. To be the perfect girl that everyone wanted me to be. And I fell. I fell so hard against the cold, barren ice of hurt and frustration. I was never the perfect girl. I could never be as optimistic as Anna, as … as strong as my parents."
A frown crossed Pitch's face. "Let's not talk about them now. I … Your parents are gone. If they were here, I would tell them that they raised a most extraordinary woman. A true queen."
Elsa blushed. "A queen? Really? Am I … a queen?" All the land and beyond had heard of her powers over ice and snow. People had whispered "The Snow Queen", with much fear.
"Yes, a queen. A queen in her own right, just as it was her birthright. No one can ever compare to you, Elsa. Your fragility, your ability to understand those around you and to possess such great intuition … it is what helped me. A queen is not always one who simply rules on her throne of gold and barks orders at others to follow. No, a queen is much more. And trust me. I've lived a long time to know what it is for someone to be a good, a great, queen." Pitch pressed his lips against her soft hands, placing a kiss on them. Elsa smiled and then gave a deep sigh.
"I know what it means to be a queen. A great queen, as you put it. But you know me. I will always be unsure of myself, doubtful of who I am and who I will become in the future."
"Do not doubt. Doubt will only further push you into the depths of despair. Back into the depths of fear." He paused at the words he uttered. Funny, how a few weeks ago, he would have relished in her fear, drank it all in with relentless greed. Yet now, here they were, laying on their bed of black ice, wrapped in a warm embrace, in their world of cold and dark.
"You're right. I have no reason to doubt myself anymore. Not after what we've been through."
"Exactly. It would be such a waste to return to those darkest of moments simply because you or I doubted." This time, he gently kissed her cheek.
"Well, if we've come to that decision, then I do believe I owe you one beautiful story about the sun and the moon." Elsa smiled and looked up at Pitch.
"Yes, I believe you do."
And with that, the Snow Queen began telling her Nightmare King, that beautiful tale of unconditional love … of how the sun loved the moon so much, he died every night to let her breathe.