Disclaimer: I don't own How to Train your Dragon, Rise of the Guardians, or the Arstidir song I usedXD

Warning: Hlín does use some graphic language cause...that's this edge-boi's demeanor.

Chapter One: Attractive Force

Hlín tilted his head back, breathing in the frigid air that dusted his nose and the lashes of his eyes. The cold whispers of frozen atmosphere that sunk through his heavy coat made him wish that he were back on Berk, safe and warm within his hut. Instead, he had to perform his duties as a spirit all the way in Michigan. Michigan of all places. He knew that his own home was a icy deserted place, but somehow he felt as though the place he was in now was far, far colder.

Perhaps that had to do with the fact that he was sitting on a metal dumpster, watching an apartment window.

The touch of burning cold metal bit through the bottom of his cargo pants, and it took every ounce of his control to ignore the sensation. Instead, he tucked his tail tighter around his thighs, using the great ink-colored appendage as a blanket to cover his lap. With a frustrated little huff, he wrapped his arms around himself, the wings attached draping down his torso like a cloak. He buried his nose against the fur collar of his burgundy coat, his chin tucking against his chest. If he really truly wanted to, he could have found a warmer spot closer to the building to wait for his cue. However, the Spirit of Love had no intention of getting closer to the apartment building or apartment room than his current position. Inside of the building were two beings he most definitely did not want to see: the Sandman and Pitch Black. Just remembering that the two were working in near proximity to him made him anxious.

It had been at least a month since he had his last confrontation with the Guardians and the Nightmare King. The encounter had not been pleasant. He remembered his voice yelling at Pitch, the tall Spirit slapping him across the face for being childish, and the end of the argument followed by the promise for an attempt at understanding.

There had been no understanding though. He didn't try to. Not after Mother Nature had spoken to him. It wasn't that he took the lady spirit's words to heart. Not at all, he knew her conniving ways and her overall unpleasant demeanor—she had an eye for power without making herself a Dark One. And that made her dangerous. So Hlín knew to never listen to anything that she said. She disgusted him; her conspiratory personality bother him, because while she played the part of a sweet and caring mom, her interior desire for her own personal schemes were far too obvious. And he had enough of people using him for themselves. He was the Spirit of Love, specifically the bonding and loyal type that was extremely strong but shattered horribly if broking by trusted ones. Through the centuries, his love as such had been broken far too many times to give in to Hiccup the Dragonheart's wish to confide in either Mother Nature or Pitch Black. Never again.

"I hate all of them, those who betray all the poor bastards like me" he growled under his breath, eyes trained on the window where he was to go once the others had finished their jobs. "I hate them all."

The sound of talking abruptly drew his attention and he took a deep inhale as he watched a Guardian of Dreams and a Nightmare King conversing as they phased out of a window. Summoning a golden cloud to float upon, Sandy waited for his companion, who likewise summoned a bridled and saddled Nightmare. The two laughed and talked as they began to leave.

Hlín snarled and sunk into the shadows of the alleyway watching them go. The small feelers along his neck flattened against his skin as Pitch Black turned around, his eyes wide. The golden-emerald orbs searched the vicinity as he tugged at the reins of his horse, cooing at it to steady. There was a hint of desperation in his gaze that made the Spirit of Love simmer. How dare the thrice damned spirit dare to look upset or concerned. He had just sensed the presence ad he thought it was owed to actually see him. At least that's what Hlín thought that Pitch felt—entitlement. But, despite his anger at the older spirit, he couldn't help the sensation in his chest; it was a sort of undeniable attractive force that drew him toward the Nightmare King. It was the bond established by the human part of him all those years ago. And it disgusted him.

He didn't want these emotions that still clung to him because of Hiccup. He wanted them gone.

Grunting as the two spirits finally left, Hlín hopped off the garbage dumpster and leapt up to the fire escape on the side of the building. He jumped from that to windowsill to windowsill, claw-like fingers hooking into the brick of the apartment complex and hauling him up. He made his way to where the duo had left and entered the room without another word.

A small child sat up on her bed, wailing as she wiped at the tears that furiously dripped down her cheeks. She looked maybe no more than three, and he figured she must have had an unpleasant awakening from a nap. As he reached out his fingers toward her, the familiarity of lingering nightmare effects brushed up against his senses. He could see bits and fragments of the child's nightmare, and he himself shivered. Pitch had not gone easy on the toddler by any means.

"This poor kid," sighed Hlín, as he trudged over to her.

He climbed up onto her bed, before wrapping his arms around her and drawing her into a hug.

She sobbed.

Slowly, he ran his fingers through her hair, gently stroking it as he murmured a song that reverberated from his chest. "The strength of your voice ain't always the strongest of all, effect from the silence can bring down your troubles once and once…"

Her tiny body's trembling stopped and she began to become more and more comprehensive of her surroundings. It was as if the stupor that comes with a nightmare disappeared. Fluttering, her thin lashes flicked away the droplets of tears resting within the dark threads, dispelling like falling stars. Hlín watched them disappear from existence, the small pearls of water completely gone from sight. He held her protectively, inhaling and exhaling steadily to set a pace for her. Her own little chest caught his movements, slowing her haphazard and scared breathing.

He placed a kiss upon the crown of her head and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Your parents love you dearly, mín krútt. Call out to them, and they will comfort you."

The child mewled with a half-cut off bawl that she repeated a few times. "Mommy, daddy!"

With the sounds of dizzy footsteps walking down the hall from the room they were in, Hlín gave a satisfied nod. He pulled away and slid off the bed, his tail slinking after him as he opened the window a bit to let himself out. With a giant leap, he hefted himself into the air, his arms flaring out to catch the wind in the large, leathery black membranes.

The wind billowed around him, drowning the sounds of parents comforting their scared child—the loud noise thankfully helped him ignore the tugging at his heart.

a/n: sorry if this was a little underwhelming friends, i'm still trying to get the groove back for this particular story set^^""" But i hope you enjoyed!

Special thanks to my reviewers: my beautiful dawn2halen, Authora97, Marsetta, Prite, the lovely general zargon, and

Thank you all for reading! Look forward the next chapter!

Chapter Two: Stray Boy