Title: moral compass
Word Count: 1145
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Fandom (Rise of the Guardians/The Guardians of Childhood)
Pairings (if any): N/A
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc): N/A
Summary: Draca realizes that she never really knew the Boogeyman at all.

The laughter in the cavern was dark and sinister, bouncing off of the walls in a way that made it impossible to pin down their source. Draca whipped around regardless, desperately looking for the being that had led her here using one of his shadows as a compass through the wilderness to his lair. Standing tall, she called out into the dark, "Why did you attack my great-niece?"

There was the laughter again—and then she saw a figure ahead of her, tall and thin with arms nonchalantly outstretched. "Don't dramatize what happened, child." His tone, which she had once considered playful and witty, now sounded bitter with unearthed malice. "I didn't harm a single hair on her head." He cocked his head. "Her brother can attest to that, can't he?"

"But you frightened her." Her nails dug into her palms until she realized they had transformed into reptilian claws, drawing fresh blood that sizzled on her knuckles with the dragon magic in her veins. She dispelled them and refocused her attention on someone she had called mentor, if only in her thoughts. "You hunted her down with your Nightmares and filled her dreams with fear."

He snorted, stepping forward as he waved away her accusations. "Don't pretend to be a paragon of ideals," he retorted, eyes glinting in the dark. "I can remember quite a few fears of your making—or are you forgetting about the monstrous hybrids you've conjured, just for curiosity's sake?" His smile was crooked. "It appears to me that you have forgotten just who I am."

She took a deep breath, gathering her convictions like the cloak draped across her shoulders. It was a blanket of memories that had once wrapped her in warmth—that now fueled the disbelief in her voice. "But you didn't have to drown her in fear! She's past the point in her childhood where dreams should have power over her waking hours." She took her own step forward. "But you've—you've completely covered her in your nightmaresand!"

"Is it the sand that bothers you?" His strides were slow and smooth, reminding her of a panther waiting for the moment to pounce. "Don't pretend to uphold the ideals of those imbeciles. Your motives are much more selfish." As she drew back in astonishment, he pressed his advantage, "You've assisted me with frightening the children of earth—don't bother to deny your involvement. Yet, you falter when these things involve your kin. Is that truly fair, child?" Drawing closer, he quoted snidely, " "Hoist with one's own petard?" "

Draca's heart leapt into her throat, but she postponed her self-castigation to argue with this dark being. Perhaps she could reason with him—she still cherished the discoveries she had made in his presence, and she had thought he had appreciated having someone to bounce ideas off of. "Pitch, you—you can't just—"

But it appeared the Boogeyman had listened to all that he would; he made a cutting motion with his arm, hissing, "Enough." The darkness began to writhe, and she realized with an unfamiliar stab of fear that it was all alive: The floor, the ceiling, the walls—even the stalagmites and stalactites were coated with his shadows and sand. "When the Man in the Moon saw fit to banish me into obscurity, he underestimated my ability to hold a grudge." Crooked teeth flashed into a menacing smile. "I do believe I will return the favor."

Appalled by this side of him she had never seen, her voice cracked as she asked incredulously, "Starting with my family?"

"Hm." He paused, as if actually giving this much contemplation. "I suppose there is a protocol in this situation. I can't simply sweep your usefulness under a rug." Lifting his chin with a smirk, he proffered almost sincere praise. "I do enjoy some of your more creative ideas. There were some monsters that even ol' North would hesitate to combat. Would it be too much to assume you could continue supplying such beasts?"

She drew back, not too afraid to ask, "Supplying beasts for what?"

"Don't play the fool, it's quite unbecoming." He scoffed at her dark look. "Must I translate everything for you? I want your cooperation, child; it is preferable to having you against me." One thin eyebrow arched as he spoke her very thoughts: "You have learned much under my tutelage, haven't you? Wouldn't you like to continue mastering these powers gifted to you?"

Draca swallowed, a whisper of memory bringing back her old friend's advice—the friend that had given her these powers and this existence in the first place. He had told her not to be enslaved by the fears of society, to fly free of them and let magic take her where it will. But, was the reward worth sacrificing the peace of mind of her great-niece and great-nephew, and their father Erryn who had been the first to truly believe in her after all of these years? And what of the other children she had encountered across the globe? Were they merely a means to an end, being humans in a society that was teaching them to reject magic?

A soft sigh interrupted her thoughts as the Boogeyman rolled one wrist nonchalantly. "I must depart, I'm afraid. I'll give you time to consider my offer. It matters little to me, but I'm ever the gentleman." The sand that clung to his waist tightened and yanked him backwards, propelling him through the cave and towards an opening in the ceiling she hadn't noticed before.

She moved with a shout of his name to follow, but something jerked her tail as sand trickled around her neck. Attempting to wriggle out of its grip, she cried out when she felt it untie her cloak and slip it off of her shoulders. Reaching blindly for it, she heard the dark man chuckle—it was once again echoing about the cave in a disorienting manner.

"Can't have you running after me with the Guardians at your heels," he drawled. "You'll make an excellent diversion for now. I'll return your cloak once you've made your decision."

She scraped along the jagged floor as the sand dragged her back out the way she came, kicking and screaming the entire way. The only thoughts going through her mind were chasing after Pitch and claiming the only physical representation of her faded friend, and trying to stop him from whatever dark things he planned to do with her family. But she was drained after the mad dash to the cavern and the disturbing conversation with someone she had once looked up to, and it wasn't long before all of the fight in her had fled.

By the time the nightmaresand dumped her on the ground outside and the Sandman spotted her from his island in the sky, she was unconscious.

Words: Nouns: paragon, compass, sand, blanket, wilderness, reward, diversion, ceiling, island, north / Verbs: uphold, translate, sizzle, dramatize, cherish, untie, banish, falter, scrape, postpone