This part will be a bit spoiler-ridden, so don't read unless you've seen the movie.
Oh, and the OCs in this chapter and any related non-canon elements are mine. Anything that is canon, including the original Guardians, is property of Dreamworks Animation and William Joyce.
'And here I thought they couldn't get more pathetic.'
And by pathetic, did he mean pathetic! Pitch could almost laugh his soul away at the pitiful sight before him. In fact, he so very much wished right now to simply throw his head back and gloat over and over again how he managed to reduce the mighty "Guardians of Childhood" into nothing more than a group of washed up has-beens.
But first, there still remained the issue of one pesky little believer.
Business before pleasure, after all...
Right before the Nightmare King was the sight of all seven Guardians—yes, that's right, seven guardians—and their pitiful attempts to protect the young boy standing behind Jack Frost, the three newest faces (or better yet, not-so-new yet still unexpected) at the forefront of the group.
The Nightmare King honestly thought he had rid himself of Cupid, Roy, and Hally two centuries ago, but especially Hally. How they had all managed to escape the Lost Lands and its queen, he had virtually no idea. Escape should have been impossible. They shouldn't have even survived long enough to have been able to escape in the first place. Sometimes these Guardians never ceased to stupefy him.
But then the urge to laugh returned. 'And yet sometimes they never cease to amuse me either.'
Those three fools had come all this way to help their friends...only to realize too late that due to their long-seated absence, the children of the world had lost faith in the virtues each of the estranged guardians stood for...
Hally's virtue of bravery...
Roy's virtue of imagination...
Cupid's virtue of heart...
They were all gone, just like the wonder, hope, memories, and dreams before them. And here their defenders now stand— both their powers and statures reduced to forms that a stranger would not have believed were those of who were once warriors of insurmountable skill and magic.
Roy G. Biv, once the feared Guardian of Light, now, like North, had barely the strength to keep himself up, his dagger serving as nothing more than a makeshift cane. The faint, purple bags under his increasingly neutral green eyes only emphasized the overall lack of color of both his clothes and skin. His curly wild hair, once a fierce shade of fire-red, now dull brown, hung limply as shades of greyish-white shot through it here and there.
Cupid, the Guardian of Heart, once the size and height of Jack, hardly stood any taller than the shrunk Bunnymund. She had long ago lost her wings and bow and arrows and now, thanks to her pudgy, toddler form, had about as much quickness as a puppy with its paws tied together. Forget fighting Pitch—she'd be fortunate enough just to win the battle to stand without the aid of her miniaturized stepfather.
And finally, in between Cupid and Roy, just in front of North, stood the spirit of Halloween, the orb of her tiny wand a dim grey instead of its usual sparkling violet. With the loss of children's belief in the other Guardians, Hally had found her own powers fading as well. As a result, she reverted only minutes ago into the accursed doll form she had formerly been forced to live with for 3 millennia prior to her rescue by Katherine. In natural but unwilling accordance with all Guardian logic, she had lost both her ability to talk and her arcane powers. Already her staff lost opacity repeatedly, fading in and out, more and more to the point of nonexistence each time. However, being a Guardian whose holiday depended partly on fear, the weakened sorceress, to her brief relief, could still walk thanks to the abundance of scare in the world.
But Halloween shared one important similarity with Christmas, Easter, and all the other holidays: it thrived on positive emotions. Even if fear is normally connotated as negative, the children who celebrate the day of haunts and other such dark-themed celebrations of fun (or used to celebrate them, in more precise terms) actually wanted to be scared. They wanted to be frightened out of their wits.
The children had a choice.
Not like here...not like how Pitch did fear...No positivity lay anywhere left in the world...save for that one little boy under Jack Frost's care. For that reason, the painted expression on the witch-doll's smoothly carved face grimaced even more darkly than the visages of her fellow Guardians, if such an action were even possible.
"Oh my dear sister," Pitch placed his hands over his heart (or at least where his heart should be) and clicked his tongue in disappointment, his gaunt face reflecting likewise, but delighted deep down at the respondent looks of outrage on North and Hally's faces. He knew and remembered very well how much offense the two spirits took to the Nightmare King comparing himself to the spirit of Halloween herself. Though not related by blood or marriage, Hally and Pitch were both involved with fear in one way or another...and that similarity, ever since the two beings' first encounter with each other, became more than enough of a reason for the latter to taunt and dispirit the benign mage. "It's no wonder North fell in love with you. You're just as foolishly idealistic as he and the rest of these pitiful Guardians are."
Then to the sorceress's inexpressible disgust (and by "inexpressible," we mean "unable to be voiced"), a sly grin crawled across the dark being's face—apparently his attempt at looking merciful and sympathetic. "But there is still a chance for you, Hally. In fact, if you join me, I can make certain you get all your powers back! You can be rid of that horrid form for all eternity! Best of all, Halloween will remain intact and all your dear monsters unharmed!" And with his false words of comfort spoken, Pitch extended a hand to the wooden doll...
...only to watch as she tugged gently yet intently on North's pants, the Christmas Guardian, in spite of his weakness, at least able to pick her up and deposit her on his right shoulder so the two elders could be at eye level with each other. Oh, if looks could kill, Hally's would have burnt Pitch to a charring crisp in nanoseconds! That fact did not lose itself upon Nicholas St. North's notice; in fact, the stocky present-bringer smirked at his significant other's potent silence. He returned the icy attention of his glacier-blue eyes to Pitch.
"You are very lucky she no longer have voice. Otherwise, she'd have very sharp words to say to you."
Was Pitch intimidated? No. Was he amused? Not anymore. Was he bored of these people? Heck yes. The prince of horror merely rolled his eyes and emitted a light sigh. "Very well, since you all wish to perish together then be it far from me to—"
THAWCK!
One snowball from out of nowhere struck Pitch right in the face, muffling his speech through slushy mush and earning a few inevitable chuckles from Jamie, as well as a few surprised snorts from a few of the Guardians. The distempered Nightmare King didn't need a hint to know who had thrown that accursed sphere of cold...just as that action would be the only signal the other Guardians needed to know that this fight wasn't over.
Not just yet.
I loved that part of the movie! X)
