-As there is currently a massive storm bearing down upon my town, this chapter was typed in the dark with a terrified author rapidly hitting the 'save' button, but if this comes out a bit later than usual I do apologize. Remember to review and enjoy!-
~Astrid~
I couldn't quite reach the petal, but I knew that if I just pulled myself up onto the lowest branch then I'd be able to pluck it quickly before losing my balance. So, with a smile and a note of how much easier it was to do this now than it had been when I was younger, I hefted myself up onto the branch, feet balancing steadily before reaching up and, with one hand bracing myself against the trunk, I pulled down the biggest blue flower I could find.
When I was sure I wasn't about to fall, I grinned at it,twirlingit once before, probably a bit too confidently, jumping backwards and landing on the ground in a bit of a crouch. I turned, walking a few steps and picking up a boomerang, holding it in my free hand and laughing a bit, almost bouncing on my bare feet just looking at it. It wasn't at how well-made it was, honestly there were more mistakes in it than I'd care to admit. It was that it was going to be his twenty-first boomerang, the one that he would be required to carry with him everywhere, the one he was required to have for the rest of his life because it was given to him during the birthday that would initiate him as one of the true men of the entire village.
And I'd made it. It had blue markings and brown engravings, sharp and only slightly nicked, but it still worked, I'd made sure. I slid the flower into the band around the pointed center of the boomerang, the twenty-first flower that took me awhile to pick out. But now it was done, it was ready, and all that was left was a hope that he'd like it. Hope that this would show him how proud I was, not just for becoming this strong and becoming one of the more important members of the village.
But proud that he'd been able to do all of that and still manage to put up with me all on his own. This was the least I could do for him, and the thought of doing it was still making me jumpy.
"Astrid." My head snapped up and I looked around, something thrumming through me with a suddenness that made me step backwards, looking around for whatever voice had said my name. No one wasnear bye, the small, grassy cliff I stood on bare spare me and the two trees behind me. And yet the voice hadn't been yelling, so it couldn't be far off.
"...Brother?" I called, though the voice wasn't his, was deeper, had a slight rasp to it, almost echoed.
"Astrid, it is me." The voice hummed again, and that thrumming within me intensified, feeling like my bones were vibrating, something tight coiling in my stomach, almost like energy. A panic filled me and I turned around, seeing only the trees and the rising moon, afternoon growing late. I gripped the boomerang in my hands and jumped when I heard footfalls behind me, spinning around.
He stood there, indigo markings against tanned skin on his arms and forehead, light blue hair pulled into a ponytail but some still fell into his face, arms crossed over a bare chest. Leaves and dirt clung to dark brown pants, and I knew I'd been gone a bit longer than I should have, him probably coming to look for me. I threw aside the odd feelings and grinned broadly, exclaiming,
"Brother! You were supposed ta wait with the others!" But there was no scolding in my tone other than a playful one, not caring that he was seeing his gift early. He offered a lopsided grin back and bright green eyes glittered a bit, saying in an accent a bit thicker and coarser than mine,
"Oi, how could Ithinkin' you'd gone an' gottenyerselfintasome trouble again?" I rolled my eyes and saw his fall onto what was in my hands. I watched as his expression turned from playful to confusion to amusement, and I spoke before he could, giddy and stepping quickly forward to meet him, holding it out.
"Look! I know you're supposed to get it later, but do you like it? I mean, I guess I nicked the wood in a few places, but other than that-"
"Astrid." The voice cut me off, and I blinked, disoriented as a dizzying thrumming pounded in my head.
"Astrid, it's a 'beaut." His voice brought me back a bit, and I didn't think it was physically possible to smile wider, seeing him take the boomerang and turn it in his hands, seeing that it was just the right side, the color not too dark like I'd been afraid it might be. And I saw his smile, the glistening line of what might be tears on his lower lid.
I punched his chest and said, though the happiness inside of me swelled tighter than anything and maybe I was about to cry, too.
"Oi, watch it anklebita'!" He laughed, and I laughed, because this was the day that we'd both been so excited for, the day we wished our parents could have seen. And he opened his mouth to say more, say something else, but he stopped. His mouth was still open, forming around some word, but he stopped, eyebrows drawing and eyes looking above my head, confusion suddenly swimming in his eyes.
"Astrid, it is time to home." The voice again, and Iwhirledaround, expecting something to be standing there, only to have just the two trees swaying in a slight breeze. I furrowed my brow and turned to my brother, but he was still looking past me, blinking confused.
"Brother, are you okay? You don't look so- wait!" I called as he suddenly looked down to his hands and shook his head, turning around.
"Astrid, do not." The voice warned, but I shoved it away, whatever it was. I ran forward, rounding to face him as he continued walking forward, looking from his hands to behind me.
"Oi, Brother, what'swron-" I choked off on the word, all the air being pushed out of my lungs as I stared forward in horror. He kept walking. Through me. Right through me, as if I weren't even standing there. He didn't even look at me. Something in my chest was breaking, and I couldn't tell if it were my heart or just everything. I spun around, seeing him walking still, and in a few steps he'd be in the forest line and he'ddisappear.
"Big Brother?...Big Brother!" I shouted, but he didn't turn. He'd walked through me. Why did he walk through me? Why wasn't he turning around? What happened? Why was he...why...
"Big-"
"He can't hear you." The voice said quietly, and I fought through it, not caring who or what it was. Not now, voice hitching as panic snapped something inside of me, feeling a prickling behind my eyes as my voice cracked.
"Wh...what?" I asked, shaking my head. That was impossible. Of course he could hear me! "Why?...Big Brother!" I shouted, but he was already half-into the treeline, and by the time I'd managed to take another broken breath he was gone.
"No!" I screamed, feeling like a lunatic for shouting at something that wasn't there, but not caring because...because why didn't he see me? Why didn't he hear me?! "Where's my big brother? Why can't he hear me?!" I demanded, fear ripping suddenly through me, wheezing now and clutching at my chest, feeling both empty and broken at the same time. What was going on? What was happening?!
"Astrid-"
"Ast-"
"Astrid, wake up!"
~Pitch Black~
I flung open her door, shoving aside Jack as her fear spiked in my mind, my eye twitching as I fought through it and had the mind to turn to the others, their faces a mix of worry and concern.
"Stay out!" I snapped, and then slammed the door in their faces, leaving the room empty spare me and her. I spun around and took no time crossing the small room and stopping at the bed pushed again the far wall, the side pushed onto the wall and Astrid laying on her back, having fallen asleep above the covers that were now either thrown across the foot of the bed or bunched in her fists so hard that the corners were peeling off the mattress.
Up close, the fear was mind-numbing, and I had to force my eyes open to look at her, to see how far into the nightmare she'd fallen. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her jaw clenched and breathing shallow and rapid, a small, almost imperceptible noise ghosting from her throat as she tensed, caught in the worst-end of the nightmare.
"Astrid."I whispered, reaching forward and forgetting everything else, all complications and logical thought falling away with a practiced skill. Astrid did not need harshness, did not need shallowness, did not need walls. She was strong enough as it was, and when something like this struck she was allowed a bit of comfort. And I was the only one who could give it.
I sat on the side of the bed and leaned forward, pulling my knee up onto the bed to get better leverage and hovered a hand above her head, my other hand moving to gently clasp the tight fist that seemed able to rip the sheets themselves, the knuckles protruding. I felt something tight in my own chest, looking down at her as I waited for the moment to rip her from the nightmare, waited to break it, waited to make sure it wouldn't hurt her more to end it than let it play out. Sometimes it was like that, sometimes she needed to fight through it or else she might be too traumatized to wake up.
Her face scrunched a bit, and that tightness in my chest intensified. That's a look I knew well, but it never got easier. I'd known Astrid longer than most spirits had been alive, and she was by far the most unshakably stubborn and strong person I'd ever met, taking things that would undo most and pushing on just because she was too damn proud to let it kill her. Which was why I could never, not after countless nightmares, ever get used to seeing her like this. Which was why I'd locked the others out, because she wouldn't want them to see her like this, either. It was something she trusted only me with.
She took in a deep breath, and I felt a spike of fear so strong that I could not allow this to go on, not when it was getting this bad, not when the noise was so strong I could barely hear anything on the outside, so strong that it was no longer something I could listen to and hear words. Raw fear. Just raw fear.
"Astrid, wake up!" I snapped urgently, and pressed a hand hard on her forehead. I felt the darkness of the nightmare snap in two, then whither. Her eyes snapped open just as I removed my hand and she sat bolt-upright, wheezing loudly and hunching over onto herself, arm wrapped around her chest like they did every time it was this bad, as if she were trying to keep herself together, her fear still loudly playing in my mind.
Without missing a beat, I slid further onto the bed and quickly sat in front of her, her sitting criss-cross to pull herself even further inwards, and if she did that I knew it took far too long to get her to come out. She was trying to do what she'd been doing for centuries. Trying to protect herself. And I would not allow that.
I reached forward and ripped her arms from around her, hearing her give a strangled cry that was muffled only because her jaw was still so tightly clenched, and pulled them forcefully forward. I then wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me in a way that would never happen normally, but this was not normal and frankly whatever image it was that I had to keep up could go to hell. This was not the time for pride.
At first she was stiff, like always, but also 'like always' she broke quickly, and suddenly there were two hands gripping so tightly at my back that it hurt a bit, but I didn't say anything, just let her push through it as I eased the most of her pain with something she'd never been given: Comfort.
I softly tightened my grip on her as she shook so hard that I was surprised her teeth weren't chattering, hearing muffled and broken-off sobs. Dammit, the girl had just come off of what felt like a nightmare from hell and she was still trying to smother something. And despite myself, I almost chuckled. She was too strong for her own good. I focused on tracing one hand down her spine and up again, the trembling still violent through her black hoodie, fingertips ghosting over her spine. My other hand kept her rooted to me, gave her something to hold onto and push into when a violent tremor rocked through her, crook of my elbow pushing into the back of her head and hand on her shoulder, thumb tracing back and forth.
That was what she responded better to. Soft touches, rather than tight holds like I'd seen some parents give their children. She did not like force, after all. In fact, she downright rebelled against it. So reassuring, light, delicate touches were all that could possibly comfort her. Her breathing was hitched and her fists clenched harder or lighter depending on how high her fear got, rising in waves but, eventually, beginning to ebb even more with every downturn.
I looked down at her, my arm moving from her shoulder, hand lacing through her hair and brushing down her neck, feeling the heat on her skin that came with crying, something she would never allow me to see, something she had, by the dryness of my robe, managed to keep at bay. All the same, I pressed my palm to the back of her neck and continued to softly trace my fingertips down her spine.
"Shh...shh...I know."I whispered as she gulped and shook a bit, more of an aftershock movement. Her breathing was still difficult, body rising higher than normal with every breath, but it was quieter. The tightness in my chest gave way, but there was still something left, which was most definitely not normal. Usually just comforting her left me a bit drained and curious, wondering what the dream had been if I couldn't read the fears clearly or wanting to get back to whatever it was I had been doing after I'd lulled her back to sleep or she'd flown off.
Now, though, I frowned, brow furrowing as something pulled within me, something toward Astrid that was quite insistent and strong, something not tight like worry but like something I hadn't felt before...and for a being practically as old as time, that was something quite impressive. I tried to dispel it as fatigue, but I was not tired. Or curiosity, but I didn't feel the need to know something that horrible that it had reduced Astrid to this. Or anger, but that was just a long-shot.
Instead, terrifyingly and confoundedly, it felt more like want. Want to stay here, want to continue comforting her, want of something I couldn't quite place. I shook that away, telling myself it was nothing, that I'd been put under too much stress and anger lately and that possibly it was just some lingering fear from one of the Guardians...and part of me knew that was all a lie, but I could not place this feeling, this sudden emotion, and currently I did not want to deal with it. It would fade, but for now Astrid was making progress, and I should focus on that.
Her shaking stopped slowly, her breathing evened out, and her face momentarily buried further into my collarbone, hands limp on my back from exertion. I felt the muscles beneath my hand on her back relax, and then her neck, continuing slower strokes, hand on the back of her neck reaching back and brushing her hair from her face, resting on her shoulder as she took a moment to collect herself. With that feeling inside, I might have held her longer, but luckily she broke it.
She moved her hands to her face and laced them through her hair on either side, pressing her palms to her cheeks to cool them. My hand on her back traced slowly up and then rested on her other shoulder.
"Get some sleep." I said softly, and she quickly shook her head. I tutted, and mused, "I'd rather sit here all night than deal with a sleep-deprived teenager in the morning."
"...Pitch, I don't want to." Her voice was raw and a bit uncontrolled, hearing her take a breath in at the sound of it. But I'd heard worse from weaker.
"They never happen twice in one night, you know that. And if it does happen, if worst comes to absolute world-shattering worst...I'll have that tiny little man give you a decently good dream." The words could not have come out more reproachful towards that man, just the thought of having him giving out good dreams making me coil, much less to Astrid. But I didn't think, with all that was going on, that she could take another nightmare, or that I could take another bout of that fear that was back to the pleasant thrum that I could easily ignore.
She paused, and I heard her let out a breath. I waited patiently for a few minutes until I thought she may have fallen asleep like that, but finally she nodded.
"Ok." She said simply, and sat back. Her face may have been red before, but now it only showed a faint hint on her cheekbones. Other than that, she looked exhausted, and a bit more broken than normal. I could guess what she'd seen, and took a resigned breath to not cause any more trouble with that rabbit.
"Lay back." I instructed, and where she would normally argue she just did it, tiredly and almost clumsily, rolling onto her side and facing the wall, gripping the pillow as a fear of falling asleep thrummed into my mind. I slid to the edge of the bed and shifted so that my other leg was on the bed and my back to the headboard, moving behind her and pressing a hand between her shoulder blades.
I absentmindedly and lightly thrummed my fingers against her back, one after the other as her breathing began to deepen. I watched her, hair slightly damp with sweat, body hunched and giving every sign of absolute exhaustion. In the morning, she'd be a bit less chipper than usual, and maybe that was a good thing. Her smart-assed remarks may be lessened, if I were lucky.
But that little feeling inside of me rose again, and I shook my head. I could have sworn that it almost felt like...no. Astrid and I were two of the most broken beings in this universe and any other, but 'attachment'? That was just ridiculous, and I knew it. Astrid and I needed the other's company, her for comfort and me for reassurance that I was not, in fact, in this alone. Possibly that was for both of us, a little comfort and a little reassurance. And yes, we tended to look after the other. But we were not attached. That was ridiculous.
It took a few minutes to lull her into sleep, and I waited just a tad bit longer before gently sliding my hand off her back and standing, knowing I had to return before she woke up, but needing to retrieve that damned nightmare and butterfly combo, Astrid always sleeping better with those two near. I walked across the floor and expected the Guardians to still be standing there, seeing them jump as I opened the door inward and walked out, their group parting as I cracked the door.
"...How is she?" Toothiana asked, and I marveled at her level of actual concern. As if she'd have done that before.
"Fine." I said mutely, taking another step forward and wanting to return as soon as possible.
"...How did you know how to calm her down?" I heard from Jack, and I rolled my eyes, scoffing at them.
"I've known Astrid for longer than all of you have been MiM's playtoys. You think this is the first nightmare she's had?" My tone was icy and belittling, just like I liked it, and I was about to break from the group, having gotten past North and hearing the nightmare up ahead, down the hall, when North asked a question that made me stop.
"You...protect her?" He asked, as if shocked. I looked over my shoulder, frowning and seeing them all, their surprised and worried faces, looking after me confused, North's expression more in revelation than anything. I paused, looking at them and thinking. Finally, I gave a slight shrug and asked,
"Who else would?"
I turned as their faces fell to realization, not needing their guilt at the moment. I walked down the hall, feeling eyes on me as I followed the sound and feel of the nightmare ahead. Astrid would wake soon, and I needed to get back. That was all that mattered. All else could be held until tomorrow.
But still, I couldn't help but think of North's expression, and just think...
"Pitch, don't begin thinking like Astrid. That's a dangerous place." I whispered to myself as I shook my head and continued searching for the nightmare.
~Astrid~
It was one of those moments when I woke myself up by rolling over, even the slightest movement jolting me from a fragile sleep. I frowned, eyes slowly parting open with the bad taste of a nightmare still in my mouth, but the actual memory far away, somewhere beyond a warmth and gentle voice. Once I'd managed to pry open my dry eyes, blinking away the blurriness, I looked at what was before me and almost smiled.
Whatever time it was, it was late. Pitch didn't usually fall asleep until early morning, around two or three a.m., which meant I'd actually made some decent headway on rest. It also meant I was now wide-awake, with a sleeping Boogeyman in front of me and the perfect opportunity for black mail, also seeing the nightmare having fallen asleep with his head in Pitch's lap, Pitch's hand resting over it's nose.
The butterfly was sleeping lazily behind him, on the nightstand, making for the perfect picture, and surely this place had a camera somewhere. I paused a moment, shifting slightly so I could rest my head on my arm, folded above my pillow and giving me better leverage as I felt a sudden compulsion to study Pitch, to see what the Nightmare King looked like asleep.
Normally I would just brush it off and leave, or wake him up if it was late enough. Now, though...I felt like something was different. Nothing different had happened, those nightmares had happened before, as I remembered last night with embarrassment, but something seemed almost more open about the situation, more relaxed, as if we weren't running from the moon and trying to fix ourselves. I thought about last night, how in the haze of pain and hysteria that still lingered somewhere inside of me, I almost felt as if it had been more than gentle touches that had managed to get me to calm down. That maybe it was this place. Maybe I was beginning to think I was safe. Maybe...maybe I was. Maybe.
And so I looked half-sleepily at Pitch, pushing myself up into a sitting position and leaning on an elbow, wishing I had that camera. He sat in a chair he'd pulled over from the desk next to the door, the back against the nightstand and him angled a bit towards me. His head was leaning towards his shoulder, pointed slightly down and giving me a shadow of his face, a face that honestly surprised me. I'd seen Pitch with a lot of different emotions. Anger, annoyance, sarcasm, suspicion, pain. But I'd never seen him...well, tranquil.
All the lines that were usually on his face disappeared, even lines that I didn't know could disappear, like the ones on his forehead and around the corners of his eyes, or between his eyebrows. He was just constantly frowning or glaring or tense, but now I could see smooth skin, eyes closed in an almost innocent look about him, if you could call the Boogeyman innocent at all. He was slightly hunched forward, shoulders rising and falling in sleep, one hand on the nightmare's nose and the other on the bed.
I faintly remembered grabbing onto that hand last night, an act so normal during sleep that it was subconscious. Now it just lay there, relaxed and slightly curled, palm facing down and smooth grey skin darkened by the minimal light allowed into the room. I thought about taking that hand again, knowing it would either wake him or push back those fears and pains inside of me even further, or possibly both, but shook my head, remembering last night.
Pitch deserved sleep as much as I did, just knowing that the mere fact he had fallen asleep a sign that he must be exhausted, knowing him to stay up weeks at a time without issue. And maybe we were both a little exhausted with the wars we were fighting. But, unlike Pitch, I seemed unable to find sleep, knowing I was completely awake and didn't think sitting here for hours would do anything for me. I needed to walk, needed to get lost in these halls...needed to forget that nightmare.
I managed to get around the sleeping nightmare easily, gently opening the door and silently thankful that it didn't creak, stepping out and taking one last look into Pitch, into the completely black room spare his and the nightmare's silhouette, and a few wisps of grey-white smoke. He was still sleeping, and something about seeing him like that...it almost made me want to stay. I mean, he'd never looked more...no. I shook my head, knowing 'vulnerable' wasn't the right word and that I seriously needed to take a half-asleep walk if I thought Pitch of all people needed protecting.
Still, I lingered a bit longer in the doorway, just watching, before finally shaking myself and stepping back, closing the door as softly as possible. The rest of the workshop was silent, spare the sound of soft winds making their way through the mountains, giving the place an almost empty feeling while still maintaining that bit of charm and nostalgia that seemed to seep from the walls and workbenches. I made it to the overlook before I realized that I was completely exhausted and wide-awake at the same time, and if I even attempted stairs or halls I might find a way to actually kill myself.
So, I simply walked to the railing and leaned on it, looking out. And surprisingly enough, an instant calm washed over me, almost as if all this joy and tinsel and what-not was what really made children love the Christmas season, made them happy and relaxed and excited and trusting. It was...I couldn't place it, but it was there, that thing that made me almost like this place, the thing that made that first night so calming. And it sounded ridiculous, but part of me felt like the atmosphere here was trying to comfort me after my nightmare, smoothing out a few nerves and pushing back my fear.
Usually I didn't rebound this quick from a nightmare like that. Usually I'd still be laying down, or twisting the nightmare around in my head to the point where I actually woke Pitch up and he had to consol me back into sleep. It was those nights that became the most confusing. Those nights where, if I ever did question why Pitch stayed near me, I felt something tight in my chest. Maybe it was the thought of him leaving, of actually being all alone. As much as I hated to admit it, Pitch had made himself somewhat of a necessary constant in my life.
I watched as the globe slowly turned, the lights flickering and ancient languages dimmed in the darkness, thinking now that I actually had time to, now that I felt relaxed and able to. No stress, no pain, no inner war, no nightmares. Just calm and the faded scent of peppermint and chocolate. I breathed in and out slowly, resting my chin down on my arms and crossing my ankles behind me.
The first time I'd met Pitch I damn-near killed the guy out of fear and anger that he was trying to convert me anyway. The only thing that stopped me was when I said 'no' and he allowed that. That was the moment I realized how little of a choice I'd been given in my current situation, the moment the wheels began to turn. So I owed him more than one on that day, but he never brought it up and I wanted to keep my debt short.
But truly, I owed him more than I could count. I recalled the first time I had a nightmare, rather quickly after I'd met him. I smiled at the memory, actually, thinking of it not as my first nightmare but the first night Pitch and I began our endless war of banter. If Pitch knew what he was getting himself into then... But hadn't he? Wasn't that why he was here now, still here? He knew exactly what he was doing, otherwise why would he have been there in the first place? Why would he have kept coming back?
I'd asked this question more than once, and every time I just concluded that he saw my prediciment and we settled on the fact that we were both broken, and the only way to keep ourselves somewhat together was to wallow in mutual angst and existence. That was why he'd kept coming back, and that was why I'd eventually let him. But just then, and even last night, it felt a bit different. I couldn't tell if it were this place's energy anymore, couldn't tell if it was just me or...
I heard footsteps behind me, and despite the interruption I smiled a bit, something warming up inside of me.
"You're getting better." I complemented, straightening a bit and lifting my chin from my arms, hearing a light chuckle behind me, followed by a whisper,
"I thought would be good to not be sneaky-sneaky. You have rough night already." The way he said it asked for no details, asked for nothing more than a nod. It wasn't sympathy, it wasn't a cold fact, it was a soft recognition without want of a long discussion. As if he understood. Which almost made it less embarrassing that he'd known of the nightmare in the first place. Almost.
I frowned and moved my hands on the railing, fingers digging in as I shrugged, something like self-consciousness twisting in my chest as I muttered,
"Yeah, well...thanks. For not scaring the shit out of me."
"Es nothing!" He whispered in exclamation, now probably to not wake everyone up with his booming voice. "Now come, I make hot coco and talk small, no? Yes!" He insisted, answering his own question again as I turned around and raised an eyebrow at him. He seemed genuine, holding his arm out to lead the way to the kitchen I'd been in just this morning...or yesterday morning, I still wasn't sure what time it was.
I hesitated, holding one arm awkwardly and knowing I should be a bit apprehensive... But I'd done nothing but be wary of them, and they hadn't proven to me that I should be. So far, they hadn't tried to kill me, else they would have just then when I was sleeping and weak. And I was almost positively convinced that none of this was a joke anymore, not with the risk North went through to place that tube into the smoke-sand-ice cage the creature was trapped in.
In fact, when I thought about it...they'd been nothing but nice to me. I'd just never experienced 'nice' before... I thought of Toothiana's quick but well-meaning meeting with me before, Sandy's offering of good dreams, Jack and the friendship I felt developing between us, North and his overwhelming kindness that was going to take a lot of getting-used-to... The only one who had proven to be exactly what I thought he'd be was Bunny. And I'd even had a good moment with him.
"This may just be the exhaustion talking...but sure. Thank you." I said, running a hand through my hair as North's face lit up, as if I couldn't have done anything kinder than accept his offer. He quickly turned and led me back to the kitchen, allowing me in first before cracking the door and pulling out a chair for me at the island. I smiled awkwardly, not knowing how these things worked still, but he didn't seem to care. He merely smiled back as I sat up on the tall chair and went to the stove on the other side of the kitchen, water already boiling.
"Were you up, too?" I asked, pulling my feet onto the middle bar on the legs of the chair, arms resting in my lap as I leaned forward. North moved his massive frame around as he searched for mugs as he nodded.
"Oh yes, was finishing planning for big party tomorrow!" North exclaimed excitedly, and I sat back in surprise, raising an eyebrow.
"Party? Here? Why?" I asked, and was already feeling knots of anxiety in my stomach. Parties meant people. And we all know how good poor little Astrid is with people. North pulled out two cups, both the size of my head, and said while muttering some Russian tune under his breath,
"Es for New Year! All spirits gather for celebration of success and what es to come, a time for all to gather when normally we would be too busy. Es very important to all, and I host every year! This year will be even grander than last, with twice the eggnog and a larger invitation list! Thanks to Jack, we learned of other spirits we had not previously known well enough to send invitation."
"Great, when will it be? I need to know when to lock myself in my room and go into Ann Frank mode." I muttered, shivering at the thought of an entire workshop filled with spirits, 95% of which I'd probably chewed up and spit out verbally. I'd never gotten into a physical confrontation, having the athletic attributes of a twig, and the other option was too cruel for even the worst of them. But words hurt longer than bruises, and most of those guys had probably heard of me by now.
"Oh, you must go! Tooth es so excited to play dress-up with another girl! Has been just her for so long, she jumps out of seat in excitement!" North exclaimed quietly, mixing the chocolate and peppermint as I breathed it in, nerves easing as I rolled my eyes and smirked.
"I'm sure she is, but I'm not exactly a welcome guest amongst the other spirits." I mused, leaning back and yawning as North turned, still smiling something warm and comforting, placing the mug in front of me as he said,
"But you are welcome guest amongst us, and that is all that matters, no?" I paused a moment, looking up at him. Had he really meant that? Something a bit warmer filled up my chest, and I coughed to try and stifled it down, but that did nothing, that tingling sensation in my chest still pleasant and overwhelming at the same time. A welcome guest among the Guardians. There was a time when I wouldn't want that at all. That was two days ago.
"...Yes?" I asked, uncertain as I reached for the cup, the warm ceramic on my palms as I watched the innocent steam dance upwards.
"Hit hammer on head." North said quietly, in a soft and kind voice that only he had. I looked up at him, seeing his smile as he sat across from me, the chair squeaking in strain. I bit my lip, looking down into the brown liquid and breathing in coco, peppermint, and sugar, containing myself from drinking it for the moment.
"Why?" I found myself asking before I could stop myself, not looking up at North but instead into my own reflection. I looked tired. Worn. Closed-off. Troubled. But when did I not? I looked just about as much of a mess on the outside that I was on the inside. There was a time when I loved looking at my reflection, to admire ceremony paint or to try and keep my hair from my eyes...but that was too long ago. I wasn't that person anymore where the worst thing about a reflection was shaggy hair.
"Why? Astrid, you have been great help! You make Tooth happy, you Jack friend that he can actually relate to! I have yet to see him so excited about seeing someone since I truly began to know him. He is usually very shy, very distracted, but around you he has brightened, opened up. Even Sandy has taken liking to you. You are our friend, Astrid, and we treat friends like family!" North explained as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and I looked up at him with mild surprise.
I hadn't done any of what he'd said...had I? I mean yes, Jack and I talked and hung out a lot, and from the words I'd managed to make out from Sandy and Tooth they both certainly didn't hate me, but...a friend?...Family?
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, suspicious, North raising his eyebrows. I sat back a bit and hunched, the drink between my hands as I looked down into it, brow furrowed and tight as my hands tightened on the cup that I'd yet to drink from. North remained silent, waiting for me to elaborate, something inside of me teetering, but what it was and what it was teetering towards I wasn't sure. So I just spoke, because I felt a sudden need to, because something had to be pushed out after what had happened.
I needed room for everything.
"Why did you accept my help in the first place? I mean, before you guys didn't exactly hate me, but you didn't trust me. I was hanging around Pitch and so everyone automatically assumes I'm some giant evil thing trying to take over the world, or the few that know my back story assume what happened was just me being some rebellious brat who's this massive danger to society! I'm the Spirit of Tragedy, and you used to believe that this meant I was evil. You used to treat me just like everyone else. So why be this nice to me now?" I stopped myself before I could say more, but more wanted to come out, more needed to. I needed room.
"...You are right. We were wrong to assume about you, Astrid, just because we thought...with Pitch and everything, we did not think that something else might have happened. But that is because you never told anyone what happened between you and Manny, why you are not evil, because I know for a fact you are not. Evil is something I know very well. You are not evil. Stale fruit cake? That es evil. But Astrid, you forget one thing: We are Guardians, and we protect all children, no matter what age. That includes you." North said, and as hard as I tried to keep the words down, as hard as I clenched my jaw, as loud as my mind screamed to not say them, it came out anyway.
"I do it because people need help." My hands twitched on the mug, and I didn't know how it hadn't broken yet, or how I wasn't dispelling smoke that usually accompanied fear or rage or panic. Probably because I was too exhausted. Or couldn't focus enough. Or that North was actually so kind that I felt kind of warm and belonging and I never felt that and it was terrifying and...and I just wanted to say it. After Jack, after Bunny, after the creatures, after the nightmares, after what MiM did, after what the other spirits did, after everything...I just wanted to say it. And North was listening. I'd only ever had that once, and that person was asleep in my room.
"Sometimes people lose focus of how strong they can be. Their life gets too easy and they kind of want to keep it that way, so they do easy things and strive for easy goals, and if the world ended up that way it would just be one obnoxious pit of contentment and apathy... I just want to help people be everything they can be, do something amazing. Without tragedy, they have no reason to do anything hard because they don't think they're strong enough.
"So I gave it out in small little increments at a time. Nothing people couldn't handle, but just enough so that they could get over it if they tried, just enough to remind them that they were strong and push them in the right direction. And it works, but no one really wants to see that part because they all want tragedy to be bad, and it's fine if mortal people think that way, easier in fact. But spirits...that's just ignorance. It's easier for them to think I'm bad because...because then they don't have to learn what happened." I stopped, and as I did I let out the rest of the breath I had left in me.
Now was when I was terrified. Now was when I was scolding myself for saying all of that. Now was when I told myself he would never understand... But I didn't feel or do any of that. Instead, I felt a strange sense of relief, a sense of letting go and release. I closed my eyes, relishing in it. I didn't even care what North would say next. I'd finally let it out, I'd said it, everything I'd ever wanted and needed to say, balled up and shoved down for longer than almost everything on this planted had been around...and it was out. I felt worn-out.
"...What happened, then? Between you and Manny? And how es Pitch tied into it all?"
I looked up, genuinely surprised as North looked at me with a curious face, as if...as if...
Holy shit. He understood what I'd just said. He'd understood. And not only that, but he understood without acting like it was a bit deal, and he was curious for more, more that I probably couldn't give right now, but he wanted to know. And I was still allowed to sit here. He wasn't kicking me out, he wasn't scolding me, he wasn't hating me.
He still had that comforting warmth about him. The workshop was no less welcoming. And, as I took a sip of the coco, it was still warm. And inside of me, that warm thing was starting to come back, and with it something light and easy. It took me a moment to process all of this before remembering he'd asked a few questions, questions I had to figure out how to answer before I spoke. I cleared my throat, sitting up and fixing my face from astonishment, saying a bit unsteadily,
"Um, well...MiM..." I paused, and then decided on the easiest route, "He didn't give me a choice. I mean, I know he didn't give anyone else a choice either, but...there was more to it...a lot more. He was worried about power struggle, he was just starting to create spirits from traits they resembled in life, and...with me, it was a pretty big deal to him. He didn't want anything to go wrong, and in all the chaos of his own mind I guess he kinda forgot to ask me if I wanted to be some immortal spirit. He didn't even wait for me to die, just kinda...took me away. Bam. No questions asked."
North nodded, fingers laced together over the steaming white mug, looking down for a moment in thought, and then nodding again and looking at me with a raised eyebrow. His eyes gave away nothing other than intrigue.
"There es more, yes?" He asked, and I paused a moment before nodding, not ready quite yet to share that... North held up a hand and said in agreement, "Es all fine, you can tell in time. What about Pitch?" I relaxed, this a slightly easier subject, taking another sip of coco before saying, an arm slung across the back of the chair and a foot on the seat,
"Pitch has kinda been with me since the very beginning. We're a lot like each other, ya know? Neither of us had a choice, we're both labeled as pretty much the absolute scum of the entire planet."
"Pitch-"
"Tried to take over the world, yeah, so I've heard. But I'm talking about fear. The world needs a little bit of fear, so if he ever left we'd have a bunch of idiot running around not knowing why they think it's fine to jump off a roller coaster into a lake or some shit. Granted, he took it a bit far, but I'm looking at the big picture. And before you ask, no, he didn't have a choice either, but that's his story to tell, not mine." I interrupted, taking another sip of the coco now that I'd inwardly given in to the fact that it was delicious.
"I see," North said lightly, nodding and rubbing his beard thoughtfully and then saying, almost a bit mischievously and slyly, "I have never known Pitch to care for anyone but Pitch, and yet he protects you as if you are very important to him." I shrugged and continued sipping, saying after I gulped a bit chug,
"I have nightmares a lot. Nothing he causes, and I guess you can't really call them 'nightmares', because they aren't just bad dreams. I just remember some pretty rotten stuff and it shakes me up a bit. He can hear my fear and he kinda...I don't know, comforts me? It's usually small stuff, nothing like what happened tonight. I don't really know when it started happening either really. It was just one night he was there, and I was already in the midst of an existential crisis, and so I didn't question it a whole lot. It became a routine, ya know? Just because we're the only ones who really understand the other, like a way of letting the other know they aren't alone.
"We aren't exactly friends or anything, just...I don't know. It's weird. But I like it." I shrugged, looking up at him and stopping when I saw a smile on his face and something in his eye. I raised an eyebrow, asking defensively and for some reason with rising embarrassment, "What?" He looked at me with feighed innocence and said, eyes wide and glittery and shit,
"What? I say nothing, I think es wonderful you two have each other." But the way he said it made it sound...odd. As if he meant something else that I couldn't figure out. And probably didn't want to figure out. Besides, the other Guardians had been spying by the door long enough, and I thought it was only polite to go back to bed so they could drink some of this kick-ass hot coco.
"Well, thank's for the coco North..."I stopped as I slid of the chair, placing the mug on the island and then looking up at him, at his gentle smile, at his kind face, at the warmth he seemed to radiate... "..And thank you. For listening. Don't tell Pitch or I'll skewer you with a candy cane. 'Night." He was still smiling as I turned and opened the door, only offering a nod to the stunned and caught-red-handed Guardians, who all instantly jumped to the side from their crouched positions.
"Night guys." I waved, almost chuckling at their faces as I passed. I was almost to the hallway when one of them called back,
"Oi, sheila. Be up in time fer decoratin' tomorra', yer not gonna skip out on that just cuz ye had a bad dream." I paused at the opening of the hallway, looking into the darkness and knowing Pitch was just behind one of those doors, and if he could see this, if he could see this... It was different. How Bunny had said it. Just slightly, a bit more gruffly where as before it would be light and jabbing. But I could still read it, still knew what he meant, what he'd realized and was making up for.
And part of me wondered if all of this wasn't just some dream.
"Don't count on it." I called back.
"Oh! I'm sooo excited for it!" Tooth exclaimed, and I inwardly groaned. After that, I knew it may be a highly dangerous possibility that I may just cave. Maybe I'd just lock myself in an obscure room and risk getting lost forever. It was tempting.
"Yeah, me too..."I said without enthusiasm as I finally entered the hallway and made it to my room, sighing in relief at the sight of Pitch still sleeping, his head now tilted back and the hand on the bed still in place. I walked in and quietly shut the door, walking back over and climbing into the bed as silently as possible while still damn-near collapsing, eyes shutting the second I placed my head on the pillow.
"How was your midnight walk?" Shit.
"Go to bed."
"I could say the same to you."
"I hate you."
"I hate you too, dear. Now go the hell to sleep."
At some point during the night I'd taken Pitch's hand, or possibly the other way around, only waking once when the nightmare with it's head on Pitch's lap snorted, and me doing nothing more than shifting, holding his hand tighter, and using that wave of comfort to fall asleep. That odd feeling from before remained dormant for now, and I forgot all about it in the flurry of half-dreams and peaceful sleep.
For a night where I'd just had one of the worst nightmares of my life, it ended in the best sleep I'd ever gotten. And I'd need that sleep for tomorrow.
