A.N. Hey all! So, I've been reading Rise of the Guardian fanfiction, and have come across abuse stories. (They seem to appear in all fandoms, don't they?) In some stories, Jack Frost protects the children; in others, it's Pitch. I believe that the abused children deserve their own Guardian. RotG does not belong to me, but Dragomir does. This is most likely a one-shot, but if I get enough reviews, I'll create a series. Important part! Please, if anyone is hurting you, or if you know that someone is being hurt, tell someone. Protect yourselves and your loved ones. It can only get better.
Not all children have hope. Some children don't believe in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy or Easter Bunny. To some children nights are filled with bad dreams and snow brings more suffering. Some children are forced to grow up too fast. Cruel words, sharp blows and hard work can kill a child's ability to believe and to dream faster than any bogey man. The Man in the Moon saw these children. He saw, and he knew that there was no Guardian suitable to help them. So one night, deep in the Romanian forest, the Man in the Moon called forth a new Guardian.
In life, his name had been Dragomir—blessed peace. He had died trying to defend his younger brothers from their abusive uncle; had given them enough time to bring the police—but not enough time to save himself. After life, he had become a nameless entity. A young boy, forever twelve, with scars covering his tiny body. Dragomir was always happy not to be seen. He could sometimes pass for weeks, months, without anyone seeing him. And he was happy. But then it would happen. A brief glance from a child, a hopeful wave, a shy smile, and he knew. He always knew.
Dragomir would stay with one child for weeks or months on end. He tried to provide what the children missed most of all—companionship. He would tend to their injuries, would hold them when they cried, would tell them to dream of better times and brighter futures. Sometimes they did, and Dragomir would have the pleasure of seeing Sandy. Sandy would craft peaceful dreams for the children, and they would sit for a while in silence next to each other. But more often the children's dreams were black and cold. Dragomir knew Pitch better than any other Guardian. After all, abuse and nightmares go hand in hand.
Sometimes Dragomir hates his job. The moment when the little girl dies from her injuries. The day when the young man grabs a knife and kills himself or his abuser. All of these moments weigh heavily on his soul. But what is worse is the first night when he has found a new child. Each night he circles the neighbourhood, the town, the country if he has to. He visits all the places that they go, and speaks to all the people who see them.
"How can you not notice," he cries. "How can you not see them?" Each time he hopes that maybe this time someone will hear him. Maybe this time, the children will be saved. Maybe this time, Dragomir will be able to leave the world a better place. But the others—well, they never see or hear Dragomir. They do not see because they do not want to see; they do not believe because they do not wish to believe. And so Dragomir remains silent and invisible, and retreats to the children, holding on to the futile hope that this time the children will be saved.