OH MY GOD, I FINALLY DID IT. I UPDATED, AREN'T YOU GUYS PROUD.

So this took WAY longer than I had intended, and it was really depressing to open the word document for this and have nothing for it, but I just wasn't in a writerly place. But I am now, and winter is on its way, which was my favorite time of year even before RotG, and I'm generally just happier in general when it's cold enough to freeze spit before it hits the ground, and I can go lay in the middle of my two acre backyard in a pile of rock hard ice.

So I have no wifi at home, so I can't reply to reviews, and by the time I post this at school, I'll have forgotten, but it's been so long I doubt I'd have anything to say. But I appreciate every one of them regardless, and thank you so much for those who did!

I'll quit rambling now and let y'all read the chapter now(at long last, right?), and I'm sorry it was so late, but I'm really proud of it and I hope you guys like it!

Willow spun on her heels sharply at every turn, her pacing having been without falter for fifteen minutes solid. Her hands were equally as restless as her feet, fidgeting with her bracelet, her necklace, the ends of several long strands of hair, only to do it all again.

Finally, she said, "So, what, am I supposed to run with my tail between my legs for the rest of my life… existence- whatever?"

Jack, whom surprisingly had not moved or spoken, did not answer, not right away. His thumb absentmindedly ran against the staggered texture of his staff as he considered her question.

Were they to hide in the shadows for the rest of eternity and abandon the other Guardians? Would they be on the run from the rest of the elusive Creatures forever? Was there any other choice, any other way?

There had to be, Jack refused to condemn Willow or anyone else to that kind of life, or lack thereof. Even if they did turn to such an option, he doubted she would run for long, if she did at all. She was entirely too stubborn to ever resort to such a thing, and after what she had been through with her mother, she had become very self-sufficient and defensive of herself and would not be forced into any form of submission.

Her soft footfalls still tapped the floor with a rhythm as steady as a metronome. He ran a pale hand through his ruffled white hair, a soft sigh escaping his insipid lips.

"I don't know." Was ultimately his response. Not much to show for his lengthy consideration, but it was the most honest answer he had to give. "I don't want you to have to run to keep your freedom, because you still really don't have it. But I can't lose you, not again. I don't have an answer, and I can't make the decision for you. What do you want to do?"

Willow also did not answer him right away, taking a moment to think over his question as well, her rhythmic pacing gradually slowing to a stop.

"Realistically, we have three options. Running like frightened children, which I would choose a no powers cage match with a hungry tiger over that. Two, I go with 'Mother Nature' " she said, sarcasm dripping from her tongue like bitter honey as her fingers flicked air quotes, "who, frankly, I honestly have very little, if any, respect for right now, even if she hadn't told me I'm expected to pack up and abandon the people who are basically my family." She was slipping into something of a rant mode as all her negative emotions for the woman bubbled to the surface. "She really is a pompous bitch, and I get the feeling she'll handle this whole situation like a spoiled child and throw a tantrum if things don't happen how she wants them to."

Jack suppressed a chuckle over Willow's tirade towards Mother Nature. Seraphina was one of the oldest and most respected Spirits around, with plenty of power and authority to warrant that respect. Willow's blatant lack of it was actually quite amusing to the Winter Spirit, because it made absolute perfect sense with Willow's feisty, no nonsense personality.

"You said there were three options. What's the third?" he asked when she did not continue, merely resumed her pacing. Yet another pause transpired before her final verdict.

"We fight."

(*)

Tooth and Bunny had remained at the Pole, the little Tooth Fairies moving steadily in and out of the window no one had yet bothered closing.

Bunny was restless, unable to sit still as his mind constantly reminded him of the scant month left before Easter. He knew that the eggs could paint themselves, but all the same he knew his place was at the Warren.

And yet, he stayed. As far as he was concerned, the sheila was as much his family as any of the other Guardians, and it was also his job to protect his family.

Tooth was equally as restless, her words jumbling together in their hurried execution and she frequently had to repeat herself because the little Tooth Fairies could not understand her.

"Right canine in New Orleans, on the coast, molar in San Francisco, east side, two bicuspids in west Sanna-Santanna- Santa Anna!" The little fairies all stopped, looking at their mother as her shrill shout rang in all their ears. Her magenta eyes widened, and her arms fell to her sides. "Oh, I'm sorry girls, I didn't mean to shout. My mind's just so frazzled right now."

Baby Tooth flew up to her and landed on her narrow shoulder, walking up to her ear and squeaking quietly.

"Oh, you'd do that? Thank you, sweetie." Tooth cupped her hand and Baby Tooth hopped into it, giving her an earnest smile. She saluted her and flew out of her palm, turning to the confused remaining Tooth Fairies and began directing them, her instructions far more clear.

Baby Tooth having taken over directing the fairies, Tooth drifted down next to Bunny, who had been simple pacing back and forth for the past half hour.

"How could this happen?" she finally asked, unable to stand the silence any longer.

"I don't know." Bunny answered, running his furry paws absently over his holstered boomerangs. "More than anythin' this ain't fair to her. She fought so hard for what she's got, and this is how it ends? No. I don't care what she is, she's one of us."

Tooth nodded in agreement, a thoughtful look on her face. "She helps me so much, and sometimes I don't think we even realize it. For the past few months, I've been finding teeth outside my room. She never said anything or left a note, but I knew it was her because who else would put them in a stone bowl?" The feathered Guardian smiled fondly at the memory. "The fairies told me they had found little stone charms under the pillows of the children, instead of coins."

Bunny chuckled, recalling a few similar instances. "Some days, after training, she sticks around in the Warren for a while. She always told me it was because she liked how warm and pretty it was, since it's pretty cold around Jack. Once, I followed her after I noticed a few paintbrushes in her pockets, and found her by the dye river painting these little patterns on the eggs."

"Jack said they also fly with Sandy at night sometimes, just to keep him company sometimes, and she helps North, too." Tooth fidgeted with the gold cuffs around her wrists, gifts from Lady Luck and the Leprechaun over five centuries ago. "It's amazing how much she helps us, and we don't even know it. She doesn't ask for thanks, or even recognition. It makes it easy to take it for granted."

"So we won't." Bunny said, deftly sliding one of his boomerangs out of its holster, waving it about. "We return the favor by fighting to make sure she stays here."

"Where she belongs."

(*)

"Willow, this is crazy, you can't seriously think this will work. It's-"

"Insane?" she asked curtly, silencing the Winter Guardian's vehement protests.

"I-I wasn't going to say that." he said quickly, for the first time discovering how incredibly interesting the cracked, off-white tiles were beneath his feet.

"Then what were you going to say?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I, well, I was going to say that it's a really bad idea." he stuttered out, a poorly concealed attempt to cover his words, but he continued anyways. "Going up against Mother Nature is a death wish, Willow, she's too powerful, and you'll only end up hurt. There's no telling if it's even going to do any good, because these other Creatures might play by completely different rules, so anything could happen. Are you listening?" His salt and pepper brows furrowed at her distant gaze.

"Yeah, sort of." she answered absently, her mind suddenly full of confused thoughts.

The Creatures and Spirits were two entirely different races, so logically they would answer to two different deities. Two separate deities could mean to very different sets of rules, just as Jack said.

But she also had no way of knowing how closely tied they may be, how much influence they had over one another, or anything, really, should she be right about the separate deities to begin with. However, it had been implied that Manny did not have much control over the Creatures, since she was told to hide that she was one from the rest of the Spirits. There was no reason why she would need to if they were also lead by the Man in the Moon, and she had her doubts that they were, as that fact couldn't have gone unnoticed by the Guardians for so long.

It was all a circle of unending, unanswered questions, and the only way to get those answers was to go to the exact place she was trying to get away from. There were answers she needed to have a chance at all to find a way around this, but no way to get them without diving right in.

"Willow?" Jack's urgent tone startled her, yanking here away from the torrent of questions.

"Yeah, sorry?" she acknowledged, realizing that he had actually been trying to get her attention for a while.

"You zoned out on me there. Penny for your thoughts?" he asked.

She gave a short laugh, doubting he would hold much interest in the politics of two races. "I was just thinking, if the Creatures have a different leader, I assume Manny isn't in charge of them, too, or I don't think I would've had to hide as much at the party. I mean, if he was trying to hide a whole race, it'd be hard to lead the other, and based off what…Hysterium," she faltered at the name, anger flashing briefly in her eyes. "said, the Creatures are aware of the Guardians' existence. We also shouldn't be surprised if they know about the rest of the Spirits in general, because I don't think any of you have ever been told to hide what you are."

There was a clear note of bitterness in her voice at her last words. She should not have to hide what she was, and the fact she was given no explanation for it whatsoever, irritated her.

"Well, no…" Jack said, gesturing for her to continue.

"Well, you made a comment earlier about how they might play by 'different rules', so to speak… but I think you might be right. If Manny doesn't lead them, someone else does, and-"

"They might play by different rules." Jack cut in, catching on.

"Exactly. But there's one problem with that. I have no way of finding any of that out." she finished, skimming a hand over the top of her tangled hair before tugging free three strands and twirling them into a loose little braid.

Jack's brows furrowed once more. "Willow, you don't have to, but we can. This isn't something you have to do alone."

Willow fidgeted a moment, quickly yanking the tiny braid apart. "It is something I have to do by myself, because I'm not going to drag you down with me if something goes wrong. I don't even know if you can, because of this stupid Creature and Spirit thing."

"You're not dragging anybody down, and if something could, or does, happen, there isn't a single one of us who wouldn't back you in a heartbeat." Jack told her, but she only sighed, lightly shaking her head.

"I know that, so would I, but I don't know what could happen to any of you, simply because of this whole "different race" thing. "she said, rolling her eyes in accompaniment with the air quotes. In her opinion, the entire ordeal was completely ridiculous. Mother Nature was trying to quarantine her, simply because she was supposed to "stay a secret", which was also pretty idiotic, because if it was that big of an issue, she would have been approached months ago when she actually transitioned. The whole thing was built off of a delayed reaction, and she wondered if there was some other reason they were trying so hard to take her away after so long.

She let out another sigh through her nose, something she had been doing almost more than breathing normally, and ran her palms up and down the sides of her legs, lip trapped firmly between her teeth.

"Willow?" Jack asked, acknowledging her so-called "thinking face".

"It's just… why is this such a big deal…but only now? I mean, it's been almost four months since I changed, and I'm sure whoever is calling the shots knew what I was a long time ago, so why wait?" She started up pacing again, determined to wear a furrow in the floor where she walked.

"I really don't know. As far as I know, no one has ever heard of Creatures until you and Psycho came along, and North's been through the books. There's nothing even hinting at their-your- existence. There's not a whole lot of Spirits older than North except Seraphina, Sandy, Cupid and Manny… that we know of." he tacked on. If an entire race would remain hidden for so long, who knows what else was out there.

"Yeah, that's a problem too, we don't know anything and have no way of finding out." A thought crossed her thoughts the moment the last word escaped her lips, a thought that turned her stomach and sent the bitter flavor of bile filling her mouth. There was a way to find out everything, all, or nearly all, questions could be answered.

But it would also destroy everything they were working for.

She bit her lip once more, ultimately deciding not to bring it up. It would be a last resort, and one the others, even Jack, didn't need to know about or she would be stopped, without question.

"Do you think Mother Nature would actually answer any of these questions if we run into her again?" she asked, trying to conceal her long pause with a thought that had passed her mind quite some time ago, but she dismissed it.

Jack considered her question for a moment, letting his air out his nose before answering, "No, I don't think so. I doubt she'll be any kind of cooperative if she thinks it's something to keep you here. Despite how powerful she is, I think that she's intimidated by us, because to have all the Guardians together at full strength… that's a lot of man power. Pitch got the jump on them nine years ago, because he tipped the scales of belief. He made them weak."

"Them?" Willow hadn't…well, ever heard Jack speak of the Guardians as a unit that did not include himself.

"At the time, I wasn't technically a full Guardian, so I didn't operate off the belief thing like they did. But even though I was still as strong, it wasn't enough. Anyways, if all five of us are together, I really don't think we would go down all that easily, if at all. Separate, maybe, but together? And you would most likely stand with us, you're just too stubborn not to. And because of that, she doesn't want to give us anything that would give us more of an advantage."

"If she's so intimidated, why would she have made a spectacle in front of all of them to say anything? It would have been so much simpler to have just taken me when I was alone, which I am every day after training with Bunny, and then wipe all your memories." she pointed out. "What?"

"I don't know, I just find it a little weird that you'd just come out and say pretty much the perfect kidnapping scenario. It still can be kind of freaky just how blunt you can be."

"Oh. Um, sorry? Just being realistic. I mean, this whole situation seems ridiculously far-fetched. I mean, why would she just come right out and say there's actually a whole hidden race of Creatures, that no one is supposed to know about, make a big to do about me having to up and leave and never come back, and just accept that I'm never going to see anyone I care about again. That sounds like an awful lot of trouble to be had that could have been avoided entirely."

"So what do we do about it? There's not a whole lot we can do until we have some kind if information." Jack asked, a question that was, quite frankly, getting rather repetitive, but it had to be answered for any progress to be made.

"I think we need to talk to Cupid. You said he's one of the oldest Spirits around, he might know something." Willow suggested.

"You really think so? If he knew anything, I think he'd have said something at your birthday." Jack pointed out.

"I don't. If he knew anything, he would also have to know that they're supposed to be a secret. I don't think he would have risked saying anything." she answered. "Besides, where we stand right now, it's pretty much the only lead we have."

(*)

"Come now, just for a few minutes."

"I said no, and I rather meant it." was the calm reply, burgundy lips set in a firm line.

"It won't do you any harm, I merely would like to see if you still have your talent from so long ago." Pitch pressed.

Hysterium look down at the tall man below her, one foot swinging about ten feet above his head. Her figure was barely discernible amongst the thick shadows of the alcove she was perched in. A few scraps of fabric were stacked neatly around her, a needle in her hand as she sent it in and out of the coarse burlap. A strange hobby yes, but making the little poppets had been a pastime of hers for centuries.

"I will leave you to yourself, just humor me this once." Pitch asked again, equally as stubborn.

She bit the brown thread by the doll, severing it easily. She remained silent as she pulled a much thicker thread from the collection of materials, fiddling with the end of it as she wrapped it into a simple knot.

Attaching the knotted end to the doll, she reached out and tied the other end to a stalactite in front of her, next to one she had made previously. Then, she slid from the balcony, landing gracefully on the floor with hardly a sound.

"I take it you're familiar with Rossi, no?" she asked the taller man. "Erminia sul Giordano has always been a favorite of mine. Un classico, era così compromessa…" she sighed, the foreign tongue slipping out of its own accord.

Pitch gave her a surprised look, then spoke again. "È ancora parla la lingua di casa? Sono sorpreso, avrei pensato che si fosse bruciato dalla vostra memoria, ormai."

Hysterium gave him a strange look, a sense of sadness almost discernible in her cold eyes. Almost. "Non è qualcosa che deve essere semplicemente dimenticato. E 'ingenuo pensare che posso biasimare una lingua per i dubbi del suo popolo."

Pitch stepped closer, hands twined behind his back. "No, ma porta ancora il peso della memoria."

Hysterium merely stared into his glimmering golden eyes for a moment, then turned around once again. "Yes, it does. It is not without reason I don't use it often."

"Indeed." Pitch agreed simply, following the petite woman to a small cavern that contained two things. A mahogany and leather bench, unadorned and unblemished, and a glistening onyx grand piano, seeming almost intimidating. Crystals dotting the top of the cave cast a soft yellowed glow about the room, providing just enough light to make the row of ivory keys visible.

Hysterium wasted no time at all taking a seat on the bench, delicately running her fingers over the smooth keys. Her eyes fluttered shut of their own accord, and she lightly hummed one note, then pressed her fingers onto the keys.

A soft, rich melody spilled from the piano, a full, beautiful melody rushing from the woman's fingers and filling the room with a feeling of completeness. The tempo increased a bit, and the slower music entwined with something a bit more lively, melding perfectly in a watertight harmony.

The woman herself swayed and nodded her head in accordance to the notes, a ghost of a smile forming of her dark lips. She seemed to be greatly unaware of her surroundings at this point, completely lost in the intoxicating grandeur of the old composition.

Her fingers moved incredibly fast, moving with a skill that was obviously natural, all it took was some practice to slip it into gear.

Pitch was also transfixed, but more on the woman playing it than the music itself. He wouldn't dare say the music wasn't anything less that exquisite, but there was something about Hysterium when she played the piano that was… different. She was different. There was a spark in her eyes that could be coaxed forth by nothing and no one else than the cool ivory beneath her capable hands. It was the closest thing to joy she felt, and Pitch knew it.

He would be lying if he were to say he didn't miss it.

Many, many years ago, there was a time when she would play it every day for hours, often just creating a song on the spot. She was prodigal in her time of playing, creating works that would take a mortal composer years, all impromptu from the thoughts in her head. Typically, it had a very morbid, almost sinister sound to it, but it was never out of place in the heavily shrouded cavern.

A hint of sadness crept into the Boogeyman's gaze as he heard the final bridge to the end of the song, but the end never came. The final note flowed seamlessly into a continuation of the song, and he suspected she was making it up as she went along. One really would not notice the difference, though, unless they knew the original piece beforehand, the alterations were so smooth.

Her hands jumped wildly across the piano, pushing the very lines of contrast with the bass and soprano notes, and yet, never at any point did it sound tacky or poorly executed.

The tempo began to decrease again, and she ventured back closer to the original piece, the chords becoming softer and softer until she finally stopped, fingers lingering on the last of the notes to allow them to ring out across the room.

She picked up her hands and regarded the keys with a forlorn gaze. She had never loved anything like she had loved the piano, and at one point during her human life, she was nearly suicidal when a mugging left her unable to use her right hand. Four agonizingly torturous weeks of silence. Many attempts were made to play the small harpsichord with one hand, but she had damaged her dominant hand and was left with very weak, uncoordinated sounds.

"I haven't played in nearly a decade." she whispered. "I was too afraid that I had lost the skill, and I didn't want to know if I would play a melody or a mess."

"I am well aware. That is why I pushed you to play." His voice was now right behind her, a slender gray hand lightly brushing her hair to the side as he whispered in her ear. "I knew it was not true, no one could simply lose such talent." She shivered at his breath on her neck, a peculiar sensation when one is not used to feeling any kind of discomfort from temperature. "And I was right."

"Pitchner."

They both froze at the sound, Pitch's full name called out in a commanding, intimidating voice.

"Damn, does she do this often?" Hysterium grunted.

"No, she's visited me more in the past few days then she has in centuries." He sighed, stepping away from the beautiful woman. "You should go, you can't be seen."

Hysterium nodded, not looking at him, and her form seemed to melt away.

She found herself back at the alcove, fabric bits and sewing tools exactly where she left them. She shrunk back into the shadows, invisible to an onlooker. She glared out at the little handmade dolls hanging from the stalactites, one with choppy tufts of white hair and blue button eyes, the other with springy reddish brown waves and translucent wings. Tied with a careful hand, thread nooses were secured around the doll's necks.

"One day." she whispered.

(*)

"Seraphina."

Pitch acknowledged as he stepped out of the shadows, black strands swirling around his feet. His glittering gaze never left the shorter, her returning eyes matching his in color and intensity.

"Pitch." she returned, her voice as cold as her eyes. There was a brief moment of tense silence, each Pitchner staring down the other, neither gaining an edge.

"Why have you come?" Pitch finally asked, shattering the glass wall of silence. "Visitors are rare, so I assume you came more than a cup of tea."

It was a moment before she replied, she seemed to be reluctant to speak, almost begrudged. "There is really no use in sugarcoating the situation, so to put it bluntly… I need your help."

Pitch raised a nonexistent brow at her statement, a bemused expression winding into his face. "You need my help? The mighty Mother Nature is seeking the assistance of a Banished? My my, you must be truly desperate."

"Do not mock me, and do not doubt that I would not be here if there was any other option." she said harshly, even a bit defensive as her eyes narrowed.

"I don't, which is exactly why this is all the more amusing for me. Even as a last resort, you need me. Let me guess, you want my help, because I am already banished and do not abide by the same rules. You want me to go meddling in the Guardian's affairs once more, because none of you can, and because I've done it before." He gave a low chuckle. "Did you ever stop and consider if I would even do it? Nearly a decade later, and I am still weak. I barely have the power to leave this place, let alone take on and one of the Guardians, and you ask me to go and anger them all once more? It would be a suicide mission."

"You are turning your nose at a hand trying to feed you without even tasting what it has to offer in return." she said, unfazed by his tirade. "What do you want more than anything in the world?"

This question posed a swarm of conflicting answers for Pitch. The obvious answer would be to see the Guardians and the Man in the Moon to fall, which would be ignored, to which he would say having his Banishment lifted. His powers had been drastically weakened upon his separation, which is what forced him to find it by other means. To have it removed would cause his to regain it in a matter of weeks.

But then, digging far, far deeper, there were the suppressed emotions brought on by Hysterium's return. It wasn't something he was willing to even consider, but there was a part of him that cared for her, and had since he had first met her centuries ago during her human life. He wasn't sure if he was willing to acknowledge it or not, but hidden in the deep recesses of himself there was a small part that wanted her to stay with him and be happy with him. No other woman had ever enchanted him as she had, and still did, even if he didn't like to admit it. He was unsure of why, because he knew of her emotional instability and he knew the chances of her returning any kind of permanent feeling for him was slim, but that part of him that wanted her to stay couldn't seem to care.

However, the much larger, rational part of him knew that the odds were that it would end badly for the both of them, with only pain and heartbreak to ensue.

But could that be changed? Was there a power anywhere on this world or any other that could possibly sway the outcome? A notion he refused to consider, as he could not even come to any sort of term with how he felt towards the small Creature.

"An answer to such a question is something to be desired." he said simply. What I want today may not be the same as what I want tomorrow." His head tipped to look at the slate ground. "Purely hypothetical, let us say I did assist you and that I was successful. Would this reward be a standing offer until I saw fit to decide what it was?"

Mother Nature gave him a curious look. "That largely depends on what it is. The sky is very nearly the limit, but there are still limitations. We will not be extinguishing a race, or even a person for your own personal gain." she said, very pointedly referring to the Guardians.

"I thought as much, or that would have been my first answer." He paced another circle. "Should I accept, my payment will be on hold. What exactly is so important you would come to me for assistance?"

"Simple. I need you to capture Jack Frost."

Pretty simple, right?

So I'm actually starting to peel back the layers of the plot now, and since I've written out the outline for the next five or so chapters, it shouldn't be so long for the next update. I'm getting back in my groove for this story and I'm kind of excited to see it unfold.

Also, here's the English version of Pitch and Hysterium's conversation.(which was in Italian, by the way. I'm working on a one-shot of what happened to Hysterium before she became a Creature.)

-Such a classic, he was always so undermined

-You still speak your home language? I am surprised, I would have thought you had burned it from your memory by now.

-It is not something to simply be forgotten. It is naïve to think I can blame a language for the misgivings of its people.

-No, but it still carries the burden of memory.

So yeah, there's those fun times.

I'm sorry for waiting so long for this, but it rained the other day and I got really inspired to write, and it hasn't really gone away, so here I am with new chapters for three more stories. Woo.

So yeah, please review guys! If I know people are reading and are actually interested in this, I'll update faster!

Thanks so much for putting up with my shit guys!