Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians. I wish though, really. I also write slash, so we'll see where this goes.
A/N: Hi! I'm back with a story from RotG - Who's surprised? What with Jack Frost being the fabulous character he is, and Pitch Black being all illegal with that voice.. Ahem. This story covers Pitch's end to his human life, as well as his 'past' as an unofficial guardian before he decided to change his mind and adopt the boogieman persona he currently operates under. I was intrigued by how Jack was chosen to be a guardian from the moment he saved his sister from the ice; what if the other characters, even Pitch Black, was born in the same manner? This is my interpretation of what was told in the movies from other characters' perspective.
I also write slash, and this fic was born from a slash idea, but we'll see where this goes. If you readers decided you rather not see slash, review and I'll probably chuck the slash scenes into a separate fic, which will be referred to when the slash scenes come.
Prologue
Darkness, cold as ice, engulfed him from all directions.
It was November, and the winds were chilly to the bones; and snow, which had accumulated over the mountains through the month, was already knee-high and threatening to pour over. As he laid in the cold, he glanced over at the mountain path just a arm's stretch away - but no one was going to happen upon him, not with the howling winds and the rising storm keeping people away from climbing this mountain.
Pitt Black slacked his weakened frame once more, collapsing entirely into the cold snow. His muscles were numb with fear, his body wet in the drying pool of his own blood, but it seems his attackers had lost all interest in him. Recalling those pitch black irises that bore into him as he was being mauled, Pitt shuddered, feeling the sickening slush of his blood around him.
Vaguely, he wondered if the girl he had saved had gotten away. Perhaps the bears were upon her this instance, tearing away at her long golden hair, sinking nails of steel into her small, shivering frame - as they had done with him..
Above him, the sky was slowly robbed of its colours, fading into the dull shades of coal. Soon the stars were there, twinkling in his eyes, laughing at his misfortune.
If only he hadn't jumped out, attracting the bears' attention onto his long, angry frame. If only he hadn't cried out, chucking stones blindly, all in hopes to turn the bears' away..
Just as he was about the close his eyes eternally, the moon peeked out from behind the heavy veil of winter clouds, and brought itself full into his view. His lids were heavy like stones, but he forced himself to look up, to entertain the moon's soft whispering song once more.
"I've held on long enough," he sighed, forcing all the strength he had left to bring his right arm to his chest. "I can't hold on anymore.."
The moon sighed as he had done, and sang another verse of slow, comforting rhyme; like a lullaby, Pitt thought, chuckling sadly as he finally allowed his eyelids to fall. He could do with this last lullaby.
A wind ran through the snowy trees around him, but it was not chilly; in fact, it was almost warm, tickling his cheeks as though they were unwilling to let him go. He understood this was the moon's wish - but nothing, not even this, would get him to open his eyes again.
"Perhaps in another life, my friend.."
The moon was reduced to a soft white blur behind his eyelids. Then, he felt himself letting ago, and soon he was drowning away into the soft white light.
"Perhaps.."