It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.

- Friedrich Nietzsche


Jack liked the shadows that sometimes merged with his ice. He especially liked the ones that decorated Pitch's skin when his frost spread over the other's chest, the part exposed by the dipping "v" of his shirt. The other's breathing made the ice have to move constantly, melting and reforming to take over the expanse of flesh there. The shadows, then, were swimming over the Nightmare King, pantomiming touches over Jack's lover.

Lover... Friend.

"Pitch?"

The older spirit hummed, not bothered by the patterns on his chest. Where he and Jack sat against the same log in the Burgess forest where they began to meet platonically, then kissed for the first time, the leaves were finally gone and the trees reached up to the sky with spindle-like arms.

"Yes, Jack?" he questioned, his arm on Jack's lower back drawing circles through the hooded sweater.

"We're... We're lovers then?"

Pitch moved and looked down at Jack, gold eyes looking for blue and finding them. Jack saw Pitch looking for something, as though his eyes would say everything. He wished that they could - he wasn't comfortable talking with anyone still. He talked with Jamie and his friends when he could, but the children had their own lives. They were young, but were maturing... What was their childhood of hope and wonder and innocent things, would one day give in to cynicism and things that Jack had witnessed.

Once, he flew over an institution. There was smoke rising from vast chimneys and textiles were shipped out constantly as workers lived there.

He saw a little girl turn into a girl that stole others' food and got them in trouble, so she could take more rations for good behaviour.

The light of Childhood left her eyes, as the light of Life left her eyes one winter.

The General of Winter shook his head, patting Jack's shoulder as the young snow spirit cried. There was nothing to be done.

All lives weighed the same. They can be thrown away.

What made Jack different? What made him any different for Pitch?

Pitch's lips met the top of Jack's head. He delivered another kiss to the boy's temple, seeing him shiver.

"I'm pretty sure 'friends' or 'acquaintances' don't cover the depth of our relationship." He left another kiss on Jack's neck, smirking against his skin as Jack bit his lip, quieting a moan that emerged from deep in his throat.

"But... What makes me different?" Jack hummed in pleasure as lips found the corner of his jaw and suckled gently on the pale skin, leaving a mark that he'd have to hide one way or another. Frost would help- "Don't distract me."

Pitch chuckled and pulled away. "All right. I'd hoped to have a less stressful conversation than this."

Jack sighed. "Sorry, we can do something else."

"No, it's fine. It's a reasonable thing to question," he assured, pulling Jack closer. "Why I want you more than the others, then?"

The frost spirit nodded.

"When I first came out of the shadows, I had heard of you. A frost spirit that loved to wander and to be with others, something not heard of in winter spirits. I paid no mind really. Surely you had been influenced by the Moon, the Mountains, or the Other World. Even the Old Ones had told tales of you when they accepted me to partake in their circles.

"The Old One who talked about you most often, Skadi, mentioned how humans, no matter their age or innocence, could not see you. I empathized, almost reluctantly. I had been alone for so long that you could say I buried my heart. I cut it out of myself because I no longer wanted to hurt. I focused then on my revenge against the Guardians, wandering and causing fear in villages, towns, and the growing cities. There was no-one to believe in me, however - just parents who used the idea, the saying, of how the Bogeyman would eat them or send them to the Devil should they not fall asleep at the chosen time. I was never truly seen..."

Jack saw Pitch close his eyes, eyes moving underneath his eyelids. Was he seeing the parents tell children ridiculous things? Pitch did make children disappear, but he hadn't done that in...

"Go on," he asked, wanting to hear more. He'd ask another time.

"When you came with the Guardians to the Palace, I had assumed that you'd be with them already. When you confirmed otherwise, I saw that I had no reason to fight with you - I'm not as terribly cruel as that rabbit makes out to be. In Antarctica... I bared my heart, the one I had buried centuries before, to you."

"And I threw it away." Jack pressed further in Pitch's side. "I... I've seen what fear, terror does to people. It's made mothers abandon their children, nations go to war, people take their own life..."

"And a world without fear?" he was asked.

"No desire for safety, people doing stupid things, hurting others..." Jack brought his knees to his chest, his arms wrapping around them. He let his forehead rest on the tops of his knees. "Because it pleases them. It's fun to them."

Pitch's hand left his lower back and made its way to his shoulder. "Terror can be blinding, intoxicating, for me, but I myself have a fear of it. I felt it from someone very dear to me, close to my Creation as the Nightmare King."

Jack stiffened. "Were you... someone else before?"

"Yes," the Bogeyman answered, looking up to the sky. The Moon was barely beginning to rise, Jack noted when he raised his head. "I was a Vion, a warrior against Fearlings and Nightmare Men for the world of Månen, the world where your Man in the Moon was born. I... devoted my existence to those Royals, but I never had a chance to meet the young prince. Who I did get to see, was my daughter. It was her terror I felt, soon after the Nightmare King arose. I fought with my might and my love for her and Månen... I did not wake up, my heart buried away and the shadows having taken my memories..."

Jack felt Pitch's hand stay on his shoulder for a moment longer before coming low about his waist. "And you woke me up, Jack."

The frost spirit looked at Pitch and felt his heart catch in his throat. Gold eyes were filled with serenity and a trust that overwhelmed Jack, prompting him to press his forehead against Pitch's, wanting to be closer to the older spirit.

"Could it have been someone besides me?" His voice was hardly above a whisper.

"I've never felt so much empathy, even for other spirits that wander in loneliness," Pitch whispered. "You kept yourself so strong, a strength that I wish to emulate. You don't run from your fear - you fight it head on." He continued his hushed reply after pressing another kiss upon Jack's lips. "I believe you stole my heart after I showed it to you, Jack."

Jack smiled and pressed forward, giving a kiss to the other.

"You know, you're the first one to ever listen to me."

Pitch smiled, pulling away to allow some room for the other to feel more at peace.

"'Listen'?"

"It was around 1968, on Eastre Sunday... I had tried to contact the Guardians. General Winter had told me that they could be seen by humans and I was so lonely, I had been just trying to contact people for so long, I was giving up hope that I was even supposed to exist. The Yetis at North's workshop never let me in, beating me up every time I tried to go in. Tooth's place is way too warm, and Sandy was always busy. He gave me dreams once in a while, but I couldn't be content with that. That left Bunny. He-" Jack sighed, collecting himself.

"He said that he had no time to waste with me, that he was busy. I was so sick of not being heard, that I wasn't worth anyone's time, and with the weather tied to my emotions, a blizzard hit."

"And I was the first to listen to your loneliness."

Jack let out a laugh in spite of himself.

"You were mean about it, but you were right. I wanted to be seen, like you wanted to be seen." He turned to settle against Pitch, placing his ear where his heart would be. "Thank you for listening to me, for seeing me."

Pitch wrapped his arms around Jack and hummed contentedly.

"No... I should thank you."

Jack would ask about that later, when he wasn't so busy being wrapped up in Pitch's embrace and when the pleasant, throbbing feeling in his chest stopped making him feel like he just got the most valuable thing in the world as a gift.


The Triangular Theory of Love is as such:

1) Intimacy - emotional closeness and want (Not needing to be with someone, but not wanting to be without them)

2) Commitment - trust and loyalty

3) Passion - lust, wanting, and physical desire

Devany: Hi, guys. I just wanted to thank those who are reading the series "Lark and Nightingale" and I would just like to ask for reviews. I really would appreciate any feedback and criticism (positive and negative). It would really help me grow as a writer and it could help with the 7th part of the series onward.

Thank you again!