Hello again, my dearies! First of all, thank you for all your love and support. It means a lot to me, it really do! It makes me want to write more just for you 3 And now, about this chapter. I really like this one. I struggled to write a proper end to it but I hope it's good enough for you guys. Let me know if you don't like it too, oh well~

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Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.

Summary: Pitch decides to investigate an old tale about a winter spirit.
(RoTG AU; warnings: main character death)

"Embracing life means accepting death."

The Wolf and the Lamb

The stories about a certain winter spirit were far from uninteresting. Oh how he loved those stories of how he only brought death and cold wherever he went, of how his single touch could freeze a fellow spirit to the core if they weren't careful enough. How there was a rumour that Man in Moon himself needed to lock the spirit away to prevent him from spreading more chaos. The fear that emanated of each word was more than enough to feed his weak, wrecked body and he longed for more night after night. Even so, Pitch Black couldn't ignore the mutual feeling of empathy growing within his dark soul. Winter spirits had always been strange creatures, but this one that had showed up out of nowhere seemed to affect the other spirits deeply. The Guardians of Childhood themselves didn't even try to go after the rumours surrounding the mysterious figure, since he hadn't done nothing against the children of Earth.

And his curiosity and empathy only seemed to grow.
Oh, how deep had he fallen...

The Nightmare King couldn't really remember how or when he ended up in there, shivering under the merciless winds of Antarctica.
Maybe it was that weird feeling slamming at his chest with the full strength of a blizzard.

He needed to know he wasn't the only one being casted out by everyone else.
He needed to know someone else felt like him.

Abandoned. Hopeless.
Forgotten.

The ice cave hadn't been difficult to find, even in the endless whites of the tundra, and he was grateful for escape the wind roaring outside. Blue and white mixed in every wall, in each icicle and snowflake that had been detailed in a painfully perfect way. It wasn't a cave created by time and the wild nature. It required magic and an endless amount of patience through years of solitude and loneliness. Oh how he knew those feelings...

"Are you there?"

His velvet, soft voice sounded foreign on his own ears as it echoed on the iced walls, golden eyes moving around slowly as he tried to find something - someone hiding behind layers of snow and frost. He took a step forward, then another and another until his fingers could touch a pillar made of the purest ice he had ever seen. The cold bit on his skin, yet he simply dismissed the pain as a swift movement behind his back caught his attention. Pitch turned slowly, trying to picture what a winter spirit would look like...

But who he faced was nothing, absolutely nothing like he had expected.

The winter spirit the others had been talking and fearing so much wasn't someone as huge and scary as Old Man Winter had been, nor a bloody madman like Jokul Frosti. It was just... a child. That poor thing couldn't be older than fourteen, thin and painfully small. His skin was so pale it looked almost translucent, as if his whole body had been made of pure, fragile snow. His hair was as white as the fresh snowflakes falling over their heads from nowhere at all, and his eyes, dull and empty of emotions, were impossibly blue - as blue as the ice covering the walls of his cave. His old clothing and shepherd-like staff were covered with frost that seemed to follow the boy's barefeet as he moved softly, floating a few inches away from the ground.

Beautiful. There was no other word to describe such a perfect little creature.

"I am here." His voice as no more than a whisper in the wind, cold and small as his entire being, and for a moment Pitch wondered if his mere touch would make that little preciosity melt as it did to a snowflake that fell on the back of his hand. It surely looked so.

"Are you sad, snowflake?"

"I am."

It was just so easy... a wave of excitement and antecipation ran down the Boogeyman's spine and he smiled, daring to take a step closer to the winter child that didn't move. He looked lost, exhausted of his own meaningless existence. Pitch knew those feelings perfectly well. Another step closer and he could almost touch that pale, snowy skin. He desired to, yet he knew it was just too soon. He should be careful. Patient. He was a patient man, after all. All those years in the darkness had taught him wonderful little tricks. The winter spirit stared back at him, blue eyes full of a childish curiosity as he stretched a hand out just too slowly, almost afraid of touching him... And then cold fingers rested against his warm cheek and he felt frost covering his skin in the very moment the child touched him yet he didn't dare to move away, even if every inch of his body screamed against the strange feeling.

"You don't understand anything..."

"I understand."

Pitch felt himself replying just a bit too quickly, but the winter spirit didn't seem to notice it - thankfully. The Nightmare King offered him a soft smile, covering the small hand with his own, ignoring the cold biting at his skin and fingers as the honeyed words escaped his lips with mastered perfection. Oh how careful he needed to be, for he knew he was stepping in thin ice and any harsh, wrong movement would scare that precious snowflake away.

"I know what's like to be cast out. To long for a family. I've spend so many years in the shadows believing no one else could understand how it feels like... and I was wrong. We don't need to be alone anymore, Jack."

Blue eyes widened in disbelief and hope, his hand slipping out of Pitch's grip to hold the frozen staff tightly. A child seeking comfort in a teddy bear.

He wanted it. The Boogeyman could see it in every trace of his eternal young expressions. He wanted it so badly, he wanted to take that chance because he knew that was the only chance anyone would ever offer him, but... Pitch noticed the very moment that empty, pointless hope shattered and crumbled to dust, when Jack's eyes finally focused on the trail of frost still resting on his grey cheek. The winter child landed on the icy ground, his feet finally touching the snow, and he just looked smaller and more fragile than before, eyes filled with unshed, frozen tears hidden under his white locks. If the Nightmare King still had a heart, it'd be breaking now under that gaze full of hopelessness and pain.

"Y-you don't want me... All I do is make a-a mess of everything..."

And Pitch felt his body moving against his will, hands resting gently on the boy's shoulders, golden eyes never leaving the trembling child as if he'd just disappear at any moment. He couldn't understand it. How could the other spirits fear someone so broken, so fragile?

"We can make them believe, Jack. Let me show you."

There was a long moment of pure silence, and then the boy nodded softly, a hint of smile dancing on his pale lips. That was it. He had won. The battle against the Guardians would be almost pointless now.

But in his blind agitation he didn't notice the trail of frost running down his neck, towards his heart.
He didn't notice the smirk that grew on Jack's lips the moment he turned to step on a shadow, too busy keeping the child secure on his arms to travel safely through darkness and away from the cold to pay attention to anything else.

Ah, if he had just believed in the old stories...

The moment they stepped in his lair, a blinding shot of pain crossed his heart.
The cold. It was overwhelming.

"Thank you for bringing me home, Mr. Boogeyman."

He barely registered the child's words as he fell on the ground, the unbearable pain traveling through every inch of his body and soul like little, sharp knifes cutting and stabbing under his skin. He gasped breathless, trying to suck in some air into his lungs that were freezing oh so slowly.

Drowning. He was drowning.
He couldn't breath. He couldn't move. He felt the cold taking away his warmth, his heartbeat.

"Hush now. Don't be afraid."

Gentle fingers touched his hair, a strange kind of warmth slipping among all the cold.
The last thing he saw was a pair of blue eyes shining in compassion and understanding, and then darkness engulfed him forever.

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See ya~