A/N: (means Author's Note for those of you who don't yet know~) So I've had this idea running through my head for a while now, and it just kept growing, and growing, and growing, and growing... so I've finally decided to do something about it!
There's a TON of plot to go through before things get serious, but even so I'll give the warnings now...
1. This is a yaoi-based fanfiction. (that means maleXmale)
2. Generally I only use one OC, but for this one there are quite a few. However, the story will mostly revolve around Jack Frost, Pitch Black, and my main OC, and includes the other Guardians as well.
3. As the username suggests, I'm a very depraved person. So there will be a good bit of violence in the future. *grins*
Time Setting: Post-movie
It was supposed to be just another day... just another leisurely patrol through the Forest of Tears... check on the Earth Sprites, the Water Nymphs, the White Wisps, maybe make a little rain here and there, and then he would have the rest of the day to spend in peace and solitude. But no... today would not be one of those days. It all started with a strange report, or an alarm, in this case, that was delivered by his sole companion, Aok.
You see, Aok was one of the Earth Sprites. They stand maybe twelve inches tall, and their bodies are almost entirely made up of wood. Some are round, some are skinny; some are curvy, and some are not; but the one factor that best distinguishes them apart is their face. Each one is made in the form of a large leaf, and every last one is different; be it the colors or the patterns or the shapes, there's always something special that can tell them apart. In Aok's case, it was those details which also decided his name. His right eye looks sort of like a large "A" while the left looks like an "o," and if you just slightly tilt your head you can see that his mouth looks like a sideways "k." Thus, the name Aok.
Now the other important thing to know about Earth Sprites, is that they can't talk. In fact, the only noise that they actually make is a series of clinking sounds that come from seed pods that grow inside of them. And that's the reason why Aok's message had been more like an alarm. He was just so... so panicked, like something really horrible had happened. But even after spending centuries in the company of the Earth Sprites, the young Warden couldn't understand a clink of it. So he had decided to follow his companion into the Forest of Tears, abandoning his usual route completely to hurry along to the source of the trouble, and from there things would turn even more troublesome...
Hiding in the hollow of a fallen tree, body and clothes battered and torn, was a dark figure known to all as The Boogeyman. But strangely... clearly... there was something wrong. He looked weakened, fragile, scared; he was hardly the man of legend that he used to be. And, more important to the young Warden, the man was severely injured.
The Wardens of Nature never had any struggles against Pitch in the past, but at the same time there was no alliance between them either... They were simply neutral to each other, like total strangers that maybe knew the other's names at best. Normally in such a situation the Wardens would follow a standard procedure of indifference, and most would simply ignore such a sight or, if daring enough, would have the man leave. But this Warden was not always the best at following orders... Slowly and silently he approached, but, mostly due to Aok's panicked clattering, his presence was quickly noticed.
"Stay where you are! Don't come any closer..." Pitch warned with a cold glare, but his voice was laced with panic.
The Warden stopped, and for the first time in years he considered how his current appearance must look. At first even he had hated it, the thick walls of enchanted wood that had to cover his body from head to toe whenever he left his home... even his hands had to be enveloped with specially fitted tree bark. And the whole lot of it was held together with roots and vines that intertwined his body and the pieces together. All in all he must look like an evil tree monster... or maybe a giant Earth Sprite... The Warden shook his head to shrug away his thoughts, causing the wood and vines to creak, and with bold intent he resumed his march.
"No... no, don't!" the once great Boogeyman called out as he shrank further into the darkness of the hollow. He could feel the fear surging through his bruised and broken body, and no sooner than the dreadful feeling overcame him he could hear it: the elated cries of the Nightmares, echoing, haunting, searching... His entire body froze at that horrible sound, and the sudden stop in movement made him stumble backwards to the ground. "No..." Pitch whispered, practically shaking as the Warden, and more importantly the Nightmares, drew near.
It was a pitiful sight, especially when the Warden meant him no harm. He crouched down where Pitch had fallen, and slowly reached out towards a cut on the man's face. At first this resulted in a flinch, but the Warden kept his touch steady. Slowly he breathed in, and with his next exhale a powerful magic seeped through his wood-cloaked fingertips.
The wound was gone, and for a moment, so was the fear. In partial shock Pitch Black raised his hand to the side of his face where the cut once stung, and his mouth fell agape as he stared at the healer. In the darkness he could just barely make out the other's face. It looked like the surface of a tree, with two blackened holes for eyes that shined with a pale blue glow... there was no nose, not distinctively, and though there appeared to be a carving of a large, open mouth it didn't seem at all functional as one. What was this thing..? Or, possibly, who?
Pitch wasn't given the chance to ask, not yet, as the Warden sensed a foreboding force that was fast approaching. In silence he rose, offering only a raised finger to tell Pitch to stay put before stepping outside of the hollow tree. With his eyes raised to the sky the Warden held his hand to the air, and as he pushed the magic through the clouds turned black, blocking the sun from view and shrouding everything in darkness. But that darkness was shortlived, for the White Wisps knew that they had been summoned.
They came from the trees, from the ground, from any place small and dark enough for them to hide until the sun was gone, and now that they were called upon the forest was alight with the small, but bright white orbs. With every movement the glowing spirits seemed to sing, or hum, or whistle, and within seconds the forest echoed with an eerie chorus as the glowing lights danced around.
The Warden smiled, though it couldn't be seen, and as the Wisps swarmed around him he waited for the right moment to strike. Like thunder roaring over the Wisps' song he could hear them, the Nightmares stampeding in his direction, but it wasn't their prey that they would find - it was a trap.
As the first Nightmare slipped through the trees the Warden lowered his arm, giving the signal for the swarm of White Wisps to strike. And strike they did, with sharp whistles crying from their swift movements as they pierced into the stampeding Nightmares, and a loud crackling sound following after as they shattered the shadowy beasts from the inside. The Nightmares didn't stand a chance, not against their opposing element, and no sooner than the stampede appeared did it seemingly vanish. Some were felled, their remains marked by piles of black sand, but many of the foul beasts had managed to escape, fleeing into the shadows at the last second to avoid being obliterated like the rest...
The Warden glanced back, checking to see if Pitch still remained, and after verifying he set his attention back on his summoned allies. He gave them a nod, as thanks, and waited for them to return to their holes before clearing the skies yet again. Now all that remained, was Pitch.
This time the Boogeyman did not withdraw as the Warden came closer, he simply watched. Pitch couldn't even remember the last time someone had actually helped him... not that he ever really wanted help, or needed it until just now, but still the very idea was... strange. But stranger still, the wooden creature was now holding his hand out towards him, as if offering it.
To the young Warden, it felt as though he had held his hand out for ages before Pitch took it, and finally he raised the man back to his feet... but he didn't let go. Instead he started to walk, with the infamous Boogeyman's hand still held in a gentle grasp. At first Pitch was going to protest, but someone else beat him to it.
It started as a small clinking sound, like small beads ticking against a piece of wood, but as those sounds were seemingly ignored, they grew louder, turning into an obnoxious rattling sound that clambered at their feet.
The Warden paused, and glanced down at the small, frantically flailing Sprite. He then sighed, an act which struck Pitch as slightly odd with the lack of a proper mouth, but without another sound the Warden simply resumed his steady walk.
The Earth Sprite gave one more loud clink of protest, but followed dutifully at their heels. If he could speak, he would probably call the young Warden a fool, among other insults. Not only was he escorting a potentially dangerous threat, he was escorting a potentially dangerous threat that attracted a confirmed dangerous threat! Even if the Nightmares were scared off for now, they had done more than enough damage to the forest! Get rid of the Boogeyman, and maybe they'd follow him! Problem solved! But no... The young Warden seemed to have other plans... Stupid plans! Absolutely crazy-! Wait... just how crazy was this plan of his? What was he doing!?
The Warden ignored his companion who had, once again, started to noisily protest. His mind was already made up... Boogeyman or not, Pitch was in no shape to go off on his own - he was barely even standing - and as a healer he couldn't find it in himself to do nothing... So, he was going to do all in his power to help. But here in the Forest of Tears was not the safest of places to do so. There were other Wardens in the area, after all, and the grave risk that Mother herself would cross paths with them, and that was the last thing that the young Warden needed. It was better this way, safer, so in confidence he led Pitch to the closest available gateway... It didn't take much for the Warden to open a portal into his realm, just a pool of water large enough for him to fit through, and in the depths of the Forest of Tears, it didn't take long to find one.
As they approached the edge of a raging river Pitch's pace faltered, and he passed the healer a clear look of concern. The Warden locked eyes with him, or so Pitch assumed, but simply continued to press further. At the river bed they paused, with the rushing waters whirring past them. Another step, and they would be swept away by the fierce current...
But the next step did not whisk them away, for as the Warden walked forward the current stilled. The surface settled, and the water turned crystal clear as the Warden continued onward, his footsteps causing barely a ripple as he walked on the water's surface. But, he soon found that there were few steps he could take, not without losing his hold on his follower.
Pitch was in shock, and his curiosity was growing. The spirit before him was clearly powerful, and yet he had no idea who it even was... By appearance it was definitely a nature spirit, but it appeared earthen rather than water based. It clearly wasn't of Siren breed, or a water nymph, and it certainly wasn't a fairy of some sort. Perhaps it was some sort of unheard of hybrid or crossbreed? Though rare there were some spiritual creatures with the capability to breed, but even then what could possibly make this..? His thoughts were soon interrupted with a slight tug on his arm, and he could only assume that his guide was growing a tad impatient. Cautiously he took the first step onto the water's surface, and found that he too could walk upon it. A powerful spirit indeed...
The Warden upped the pace, and walked to the center of the placid river. There he knelt down, and gently touched the surface. It rippled momentarily, and as the water stilled again it showed a clear reflection of the Warden and his companions, but rather than showing the reflection of the forest their surroundings had changed... The air was full of a thick mist that clouded the sky, and instead of endlessly tall trees the world was filled with lotus blossoms and lily pads. The Warden closed his eyes, and pushed their very souls into the world that was reflected.
It was an unexpected change, being transported from a warm, muggy forest to a chilled and misty realm, but even the Boogeyman would have to admit that the world was... peaceful. Though, to his relief, not painfully so. There was a sort of melancholy that came with it, a subtle sadness that was just a notch off gloomy. Much better than a happy kind of peace, in Pitch's shaded opinion. "So, this is your home..?" he inquired, though totally sure as to whether or not the other could understand.
The Warden passed him a glance, and simply nodded before pointing to the largest of lotus blossoms. It stood the size of a three story building, and it was easy to see that the inside was hollow.
Aok was the first to move after being transported, but rather than taking the lead, the Sprite set himself between the other two and the giant flower. Clearly he was upset, as his flailing limbs were making quite a racket. This was foolish, absolutely foolish! Who in their right mind would take the Boogeyman HOME?
The young Warden sighed, this time with a rising level of annoyance, and with his free hand he shooed the Sprite out of the way. Aok obeyed, as expected, and reluctantly stepped aside to allow the realm's master and his guest to pass...
Only once they stepped into the lotus did the Warden release his hold on Pitch's hand, and after folding down an internal petal he instructed the man to sit.
Pitch followed the silent order without protest; even if it was part of a flower, it was a place to finally rest. It felt as if he had been running for years - perhaps he really had - and the Nightmares were relentless... His wounds had never been given a chance to fully heal, and his mind had been so tormented that sleep was an impossibility. Finally, after so long he felt... safe. Without noticing it he had leaned back against the inner walls of the lotus, and even closed his eyes.
Meanwhile, without even bothering to alert the other, the Warden ventured into another room of his home. Standing, he closed his eyes, and allowed his body to relax. His inborn magic started to flow freely as both body and mind rested, and slowly the vines of the enchanted wood started to unwind. The pieces came off one by one, sliding from his hands and feet, his arms and legs, and his chest, and finally, finally, he was able to remove the mask... and the moment that he did, outside the rain started to pour.
It was only here, hidden within his own realm, that the young Warden was able to do as he pleased, to live without limitations and bindings, to be free... It was never his decision to wear the enchanted armor; it was a choice that was made for him. Or rather, it was something that was forced on him to ensure that his magic stayed in control. In his heart he understood the reason for it, but even so... it was annoying. So what if the rain followed him? That was the whole point of being what, and who, he was.
With his limbs now free of less-than-human tree limbs the young Warden stretched, and ruffled a hand through his mess of sky blue hair. It didn't take much for the scraggly strands to fall back into place, and with his bangs framing the sides of his face the rest was pulled into a low-set ponytail that fell just below his shoulder blades. He felt a thousand times better already, but given the fact that he had company there was one more crucial thing that he needed to do. And that, was getting properly dressed.
With ease he slipped into his normal attire: a faded pair of blue jeans, a white long-sleeved button-up shirt with a collar, and a full-length dark gray coat that was almost always left unbuttoned. It was a simple style, when compared to the other Wardens, but most of them weren't really all that... human. Not that he really minded, of course, but at times he felt as if he fit in much better with the enchanted armor. Especially given the distrust most had for humankind. Not that he was a human, not anymore at least...
The young Warden shook those thoughts aside, and now fully redressed and prepared, he returned to the front room of his home. It was an almost strange sight, and probably a rare one, to see the Boogeyman so contently at rest. He almost looked peaceful, but that peace would soon have to be disrupted. The young Warden approached in silence, and lightly tapped on Pitch's shoulder to awaken him.
At first, Pitch was quite startled to see the young man, after all he had been led to this place by what he assumed to be some sort of... tree... thing. But something about him was undeniably similar. Physically the only similarity was the faintly glowing blue eyes, but there was something else that gave it away, something in the Warden's presence itself: the silent demeanor, the air of calm, and the benign aura... "Are you... the same spirit from before?" Pitch felt as if it was a shot in the dark, but it was still worth asking.
The Warden nodded, and raised his hand to allow his magic to surface. The faint, misty glow that surrounded his hand matched that of his eyes, and gently he placed his palm over a gash on the side of Pitch's head. Before his eyes the gash slowly closed to a cut, from there a scar, and then it faded entirely. The Warden smiled, if only a little, and lowered his hand to another wound, this time an infected slice along the man's neck.
It was turning into an uncomfortable amount of physical contact for Pitch, especially since that contact was very... soothing... It's to be expected for healing magic, of course, but even expected things can lead to discomfort. And unexpected things even more so, which is why the Boogeyman quite literally jumped back as a hand slipped under his clothes to a cut on his left shoulder.
The Warden's face reddened as he realized his mistake. The centuries past of healing animals and nature spirits had almost entirely made him forget the human side of things, in particular, the often unspoken but highly important and extensive rules and regulations about touch. But even so, for his healing to work it had to be done. He tried again, this time holding Pitch's shoulder steady and uncovering only half of the wound. For the second time he went to heal the wound, but as he soon revealed, the portion that was still covered by Pitch's clothes had remained untouched by his magic.
The Boogeyman's discomfort, it seemed, was only just beginning, but who could say no to a free healing? With a frown and a disgruntled grumble Pitch dragged his hand down the length of his face. "Alright, we'll do this your way," he decided, and though reluctant he rose and shrugged out of his tattered robe, leaving him down to a simple pair of black boxers. It was awkward to be so exposed, especially to a stranger with a very comforting touch after spending so much time alone...
The extent of damage to the man's body was shocking, even for the experienced healer. His back was marred with discolored bruises, from blues to purples, even yellows and greens, and mixed in with the myriad of color were deep, blackened cuts and lacerations. It looked as though he had been thoroughly trampled, probably many times over... The young Warden closed his eyes for a moment, and charged both hands with his magic. In silence he rose, and set his hands onto Pitch's shoulders.
With eyes closed and jaw tightly clenched Pitch remained still as the healer's hands roamed his brutalized backside, but on occasion, once the nulling sense pain was taken care of and his other senses allowed to kick in, a sudden chill or shiver would fall down his spine. He could no longer even remember the last time he was touched with such care, and as much as he hated it his body was quick to react to the occasional pleasant sensation.
The Warden, however, was almost completely oblivious to this. His main focus, his only focus, was tending to the man's wounds. But there was so much damage, both internal and external. Cracked and broken bones, internal bruising, gashes and cuts that looked as though they had never even been cleaned - it was a marvel that Pitch was still standing. It took nearly half an hour, maybe more, but finally the colorful mess was restored to a pale gray.
The moment that the hands were removed Pitch rolled his shoulders and stretched his back, finding relief in both the lack of pain, and countless pops from his spine. "Mmmmuch better," he sighed out loud, but a sudden gentle tug set him straight back onto his previous seat. By now most of the awkwardness had faded, or at least he had gotten used to it, so he hardly seemed to mind as the Warden lifted one of his arms to continue the task of healing him. This time Pitch was able to easily watch as the blue glow of the healer's magic cascaded across his skin, lingering just a moment as if following the other's hand. The more severe the damage, the longer the Warden left his hand in place, and the longer the residual magic would remain. But what Pitch also caught himself watching, was the healer himself.
The Warden was deeply focused on his work, his faintly glowing eyes scanning for the slightest signs of damage, and once he deemed an area clear his lips would just barely twitch into a smile. And, perhaps a bit amusing to the Boogeyman, every time he would set his sights on a new wound he would show such a look of concern and hurt. It almost looked as though he could feel the pain that the other had been put through.
In comparison to his back, his arms took no time at all to heal, and once the Warden was done with a final check Pitch was given a moment to move yet again. He stretched his arms, flexed his once-sore muscles, cracked his knuckles, and drew in a content breath. Halfway done, and already he was feeling better than he had in centuries... At this rate it wouldn't be long until he felt like his old self again. Strong, dark, imposing, and of course, terrifying.
With a slight smile the Warden set a hand on Pitch's chest, and gently pushed him to lean back against the wall. There were far fewer wounds when compared to the other side, but the wounds were also more severe. This time, rather than going simply by location the healer prioritized damage control, starting with the deepest and most infected of gashes and then moving onto minor cuts and bruises. It was a relaxing and methodical task, until the Warden moved onto scars where he was quickly snapped out of focus.
"Wait!" Pitch spoke out suddenly, almost panicked as the healer set his hand over the Boogeyman's heart, "... not that one." He had averted his eyes, after briefly locking them with the healer's. His outburst was so sudden that Pitch himself hadn't expected it, and he definitely didn't intend for it to sound so desperate.
The Warden removed his hand, and set his eyes on the scar in question. It formed a rough 'x' on the left side of Pitch's chest, and by the thickness of the scarred flesh he could tell that the wound had to have been deep. His gaze then shifted and settled on Pitch's face, and he gave a firm nod before moving on to a different scar.
"Thank you..." Pitch breathed in a shallow whisper and closed his eyes, resting while the healer continued his work. He still couldn't sleep, of course, and he was still wary of letting his guard down, but even rest was a relief. It wasn't until he felt his left leg lifted into the air a few minutes later that his eyes opened again, and he found the Warden now kneeling on the floor and busy healing a gash in his thigh. A smirk twitched at his lips. So long it had been that anyone kneeled before him that he couldn't help but enjoy it a little, but his gaze didn't go unnoticed. For a moment their eyes locked again, but almost too quickly the healer turned back to his task and Pitch could have sworn that the young man was blushing. The Warden didn't look up again, and soon Pitch's curiosity got the better of him... he had to draw his attention again. "So... who are you, anyway? At the very least I'd like to know the name of the one who's kneeling at my feet," he remarked with a wide smirk.
At first, the Warden didn't quite know how to answer, but after giving it a moment's thought he sat back, and discharged his healing magic. Instead he clasped his hands together, and a gray shadow swirled around them before seeping between the cracks. After a moment he moved his left hand, and rising to hover just above the right was a dark cloud that was pouring water into his open palm.
Suddenly it clicked. "So you're the new Rain Maker, then?" Pitch remarked, and rested his head comfortably in his hand, "I heard that Mother Nature had to find a replacement some hundred years ago. Strange that she chose a human spirit..."
The Warden shrugged in reply, and blew the small rain cloud on a windy path out the doorway before setting his attention on healing the other leg.
"I suppose you're unaware of who I am, then," the Boogeyman remarked idly as he stretched his newly released limb. He could only assume that it was so, after all no one in their right mind would go so far out of their way to aid one of the most hated spirits in all existence.
The Rain Maker stilled for a moment, as if very deep in thought, but there was just no getting around it this time... He took a breath, and raised his head to match eyes with the other. "Pitch Black."
In a word, Pitch was stunned. His eyebrows furrowed with one slightly raised, and the corner of his lip had twitched into an awkward smile while his mouth was hanging open; the look of both surprise and confusion merging together on his face was truly priceless. Not only had the healer spoken after seeming completely mute, he was also fully aware of what he done, and who he had helped. And all that he could think was,"How strange..."
A/N: *grins* I just couldn't resist writing a weaker side to Pitch. Not when there's a perfect setup there in the movie's end, when the Nightmares start chasing him. And this chapter wound up much longer than I had intended... but that's usually how it goes for all of my first chapters. *shrugs* I just can't find a good enough stopping point in the introduction to the story... That's groundwork for you though!
As for Frost fans, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a few more chapters. ;)