A/N: You guys, I'm so glad you guys liked what I did with North's backstory! I was a little nervous about posting that chapter because I'm giving so much of my own interpretations to a canon character, so I'm really pleased it went over well. seldomselcouth, I was wondering where you went! It's nice to have you reviewing again. Also, "and then Rowan can die in a mega tragic way and they'll live happily ever after," made me laugh, so thanks for that. Bigby the Big Bad Wolf, first of all, I love your username. I am like so far behind on the Fables comics but I was just like "BIGBY" when I saw your username, haha. As far as Mel goes, well, stirring up drama is what she does, though I do know she'll find herself in a less-than-ideal situation later on. Sky65, Wow, thank you! I think the last chapter is one of my favorites, too, though, like I said, I was sort of nervous about posting it! soaringphoenix86, Haha, I bet after dealing with the elves, the infants were no big deal for the yetis, but yes, I'm sure there are tons more stories that North didn't tell. I also just loved the father/son thing he and Jack had going on in the movie, I had to try to incorporate it in this fic as much as I could. Tanairy Cornelio, sayingirl, and Guest, thanks for your reviews!

I kind of struggled with this chapter. The last few chapters before this I had finished before the semester started and so with this one I was juggling my Muse designs for class (I now have Calliope, Polyhymnia, Melpomene, Thalia and Urania all done, check out my profile links) and other assignments at the same time. Hopefully it all makes sense and works out okay! Get a little more of the Muses in this one. Also, I'm finally bumping the rating of this fic up from T to M! I know it's going to be a little more necessary later but I'll be sure to warn you guys in the author notes of those chapters. This one just has some vague implications about sex.

Lastly! Trigger Warning, more discussion of suicide in this chapter. Though there aren't any descriptions of the act itself.

It was something that used to comfort her, the world of magic and pixie dust that existed in her beat up books and her mind. Because anything could happen, and if she didn't like it, she could change it, she could put the book away.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Democracy

Rowan carefully placed a glass ornament onto the tree. The ornament wasn't anything special: a shining pink orb. But it looked pretty among its siblings that had come with the set. There was little rhyme or reason to many of the other ornaments, varying from favorite characters to terrible hand-made ones that Rowan had created back in elementary school. Her mother still kept each and every one, despite the groans Rowan made every year when that glitter-covered pine cone on a string was retrieved from the box of decorations.

Atop the tree was an angel, with dark locks and an exquisite gown. She was secured to the tree with great care, as she was made of porcelain and very fragile (not to mention, expensive). Taking another ornament from the box, Rowan stopped to carefully examine the small figure of Tinker Bell. It was not any depiction of the fairy that had been present in any film, but rather, the artist's own interpretation of the character. Rowan had found the ornament at an art festival a few years prior and hadn't given a second thought to handing over the bills for the hand-crafted piece.

Now, examining the meticulously painted wings, Rowan couldn't help but think back to the lovely wings possessed by the Tooth Fairy and her assistants. The way they had pulled at her hair and fluttered about, their voices squeaky and speaking a language Rowan didn't understand. Tiny Tinker Bells, ever critical of their "Peter's" new companion.

She remembered flying with Jack, clinging to his shoulders in fright and excitement. All his cocky comments, the complete and utter attention he paid to the stories she told of the character that shared his name, the way he spoke of his own adventures.

When had she become Wendy Darling?

She remembered her childhood, watching the films and begging her mother to take her to the play so that she could see Peter Pan performed in its original format. Her eyes traveled down from the ornament and to the stars tattooed on her wrist.

Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning.

Peter Pan was her first crush. All she had wanted was to find him at her windowsill and fly off with him to Neverland where they could have adventures and tell stories forever, never having to deal with responsibilities or troubles ever again. She'd spent countless math classes daydreaming about it. She'd spent countless nights waiting for him. Real boys never compared, she'd longed for the crowing boy who never grew up.

It was a fantasy she'd tucked away for years, something she'd come to accept was never actually going to happen. And now a flying boy who would be forever eighteen was tapping at her windowpane each night.

But this wasn't what she wanted, was it? It used to be that her fantasies, her imagination, were a place she had entire control over. If something she imagined with Peter Pan went wrong, she would simply re-write the scene. A story could always be edited, scenes could always be removed, conflict always had a resolution. It was something that used to comfort her, the world of magic and pixie dust that existed in her beat up books and her mind. Because anything could happen, and if she didn't like it, she could change it, she could put the book away.

But now magic was a very real thing, and something she could not control. It was no longer a place she could escape to, but a place with creatures she had to elude for her own safety. In a way, she felt betrayed. All she'd ever wanted was for magic and the creatures and beings from legend to be real. And now that it was, it wasn't as wonderful as she had hoped it would be.

One thing remained consistent, however. Just as Peter and Wendy never did end up together, she felt the same was meant to happen with her and Jack. Wendy grew up, she lost Peter's interest and he moved straight along to another young girl, Jane. Peter never remembered anyone for very long, either due to his easily bored nature or the fact that he had been alive for so long and interacted with so many. Immortality and never growing up did not mix well with mortality and aging.

Besides, Rowan was still in constant debate with herself over how exactly she felt about Jack. Part of her was convinced that had the situation been different, had they not been forced to be around each other so much, that none of this would be happening. The adrenaline and terrifying excitement from having her life threatened had to be contributing to her perceived attraction to him, right? He was her protector, and as anti-feminist as it was, she had enjoyed that he was the one around to keep an eye on her and fend off the bad guys, that he had gotten to act the part of her hero.

Another part of her wondered if she would like him at all if he were a human boy. The novelty of him being a real immortal being, a winter spirit, had to have something to do with it, right? He was so much more interesting than the other boys she knew by default. What if she was just going for the most intriguing option? What if she was just rebounding after the ordeal with Danny a few months ago and was drawn to Jack because he and Danny were different in just about every way they could be? Was she mistaking excitement and intrigue for chemistry and actual feelings?

And yet she could not ignore the fact that she missed him when he was gone. Not because he wasn't around to protect her and she was scared, but simply because he wasn't there and she wanted him to be. She wanted to talk to him, to ask him more about his adventures the past few centuries and to tell him more of her own stories. She loved that he actually cared about her stories, that she could babble about them without feeling silly or like she was boring him.

When he smiled, she smiled. She spoke with him so easily, whether it was a serious conversation or an exchange of friendly jabs at one another. When they fought, there was always an underlying level of amusement, it always ended with a smile. When they touched, she somehow knew that the goosebumps she got were not simply from the cold.

Whether it was due to the situation or not, it was hard to deny that the attraction was there. She'd sketched studies of his face, having drawn his blue-tinted lips several times, tracing her fingers over her own and considering what it would be like to kiss him.

Even Peter and Wendy had gotten a kiss.

Just one kiss, to get it out of her system, part of her mind pleaded with her. It wasn't that easy, though. She was determined not to taunt herself with a taste of something she could not have.

It would be easier this way. She didn't need the inevitable heartache on top of everything else.

"Roo?" her mother's voice cut through her thoughts, bringing them immediately to a halt. Rowan glanced up from the ornament in her hand.

"Hm?" Rowan said.

"Are you okay?" Dot asked, pinning a rather creepy looking bird to the tree. "You've seemed sort of distant lately and you've just spent a few minutes staring at that ornament."

"I'm fine," Rowan said quickly, hanging Tinker Bell on one of the synthetic branches at last.

"Are you sure? You've just seemed down lately, is all. Your dad's noticed too, you're just very quiet and you seem distracted. Is something on your mind? Is something going on at school? Are you and Shirley fighting or anything?" Dot was such a mother, it was frustrating. It was times like this that Rowan wished she had siblings. Perhaps if there were other children for Dot to fuss over, she wouldn't notice so much about Rowan. Dot always knew when something was going on. It was as though once one became a mother, one developed some kind of psychic sixth sense.

Usually, when Dot pried, Rowan could talk to her about it. They had a decent relationship, a good one, even, but she wasn't about to relay that Shadow People were trying to kill her and she was developing feelings for a boy who just so happened to be Jack Frost. It wasn't like when she was little and told her mother about imaginary friends; she was twenty years old now. Any discussion of magic and invisible people as though they were real would land her in therapy now.

"No, no, I'm just tired," Rowan said, hanging another ornament. "I mean, finals were kind of rough this semester, you know? And then I drove all the way back here, I just need to catch up on sleep."

"Okay," Dot said skeptically. "But if something is going on, Roo, you know you can talk to me about anything."

If only that were true. "Thanks, Mom, but really, it's nothing," Rowan insisted, glancing back at Tinker Bell, the small flecks of glitter on her dress glistening in the lights adorned on the tree. The two continued decorating, Rowan's father appearing toward the end to hang his ornaments, all made in the image of various science fiction characters (and a few pirates). Once the last ornament was hung, Rowan took a seat on the couch, glancing out the window at the gentle snowfall as her mother snapped a few pictures of their work.

The snow only reminded her of Jack.

"I'm going to take a walk," Rowan announced after a moment, walking toward the door and pulling on her boots.

"It's going to be dark soon," Bill said.

"I'll be back before that," Rowan said. She had to be.

"Be careful, don't slip," Dot said, fiddling with her cell phone. She was no doubt sharing photos of the tree with everyone on social networking. Dot had more virtual friends than Rowan could dream of having.

"I'll be fine," Rowan said, pulling on her coat.

"Take your taser," Bill said.

"Dad, they're not legal in this state," Rowan pointed out.

"Take it anyway, we live with a lawyer," Bill said, waving her concern away. Dot cocked a brow at him. "Or not."

"I'll be fine, I'll be back before the sun's down," Rowan stressed, slipping out the door before her father could insist on the stun gun yet again. She exhaled deeply, watching her breath fog before her before walking off. She walked a few blocks before squeezing through a chained gate toward a park. As it was getting close to nightfall and had begun to snow again, there were few people present in the park, which was fine with Rowan.

The girl climbed a steep hill, plopping herself down on the top and pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she watched the lights in the not so far off homes illuminate. She watched the cars in the distance pass, the dancing Christmas lights flash.

Something is trying to kill you, she remembered yet again, pulling her scarf over her nose and mouth for warmth. On top of all the conflict she had over Jack and her feelings for him, that was always a fact that had to come slithering back to the forefront of her mind. Maybe none of this mattered, because maybe she'd end up dead soon enough anyway.

She was thinking about death far too much lately; she frowned as the grim thoughts flooded her mind again. What would happen if none of the attempts to keep her alive worked?

The snow picked up, and she could feel a few of the snowflakes brush up against her cheeks as they fell.

"Hi Jack," she said, pulling the scarf from in front of her mouth so she might speak clearly.

"How'd you know I was here?" the winter spirit said with a smile, taking a seat next to her.

"Kinda gave yourself away," she said, returning his smile as she held out her hand to catch some of the falling flakes.

"Ha, yeah I guess I'll have to work on my stealth, huh?"

"I can't imagine you being stealth at all, you're so loud and proud about what you do," she responded.

"True," he replied. The two fell into silence for a moment and Jack turned to watch Rowan as she kept her eyes fixed on the distant neighborhoods. While she had smiled when he arrived and into their brief conversation, the smile was gone now and her expression was that of someone in thought.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I just... I keep thinking about everything going down you know?"

"It's a lot to take in."

"I keep coming back to the whole 'death' aspect."

Jack was quiet for a moment before weakly offering, "Yeah, that's... understandable."

"About a week before I graduated high school, a girl I was supposed to graduate with committed suicide," Rowan said in a matter-of-fact tone, turning back to face him. Jack's brow furrowed and he looked as though he were about to offer his condolences when Rowan cut him off. "I didn't know her very well, we weren't friends or anything. She was on a sports team, so, you know, the news was all over it; everyone was talking about it. Everyone was suddenly her best friend whenever a reporter would ask. Everyone had a class with her, everyone was going to miss her so badly. It kind of became a competition to see who could be the saddest about it."

"I'm kind of glad I never had to go to high school," Jack commented.

"You should be very glad, honestly," Rowan said. "I remember when my parents found out and they showed her picture on the news. The first thing out of their mouths was, 'It's such a shame. She was such a pretty girl.' Like being pretty meant anything to her or made her life any better. Or it made the loss worse than if she'd been plain looking."

Rowan bit her lip and eyes darting back to the neighborhoods and streets ahead. "I don't know, I guess... I guess I wonder what they'd say about me, you know? Would my classmates pretend we were best friends? Would my professors exaggerate my performance in class and claim they always looked forward to having me there? Would people see my picture with the obituary and say, 'It's such a shame, she was so pretty?' Or maybe, 'It's such a shame, she had the potential to be pretty?' or 'It's such a shame, she was so young?' Who would come to my funeral?

"They have a plaque for her at the high school now. A young, tragic death does seem to be the surest way to immortality," Rowan said, finally glancing back at Jack.

"I can't really argue with that last point," Jack said sheepishly. What else did one really say to such a speech?

"I'm sorry I'm just... dumping all this on you, I just can't really go up to my mother or anything and be all, 'so these Shadow People are trying to kill me and it's making me think of my mortality a lot' without someone trying to get me committed. Not that I'd blame them," Rowan sighed.

"Hey, if there's anyone you can talk to about this, it's me," Jack said, offering her a smile and a friendly nudge with his elbow. "And I'm going to do everything possible to make sure that you don't have to worry about the whole 'death' thing any time soon."

"Thanks. Speaking of which, how did your meeting with Santa- I mean, North, go?" Rowan asked suddenly, remembering that it was where Jack had disappeared to today. He'd been vague about what it was about, but had implied that it had something to do with her and helping with the Shadow People.

"Differently than I expected… he told me about his wife," Jack said.

"He's got a wife?" Rowan asked, raising a brow.

"Well. Had. She died a few centuries ago; she was mortal," Jack explained.

"That's… really sad," Rowan said, focused on the horizon once more. "Sun's starting to set, let's start heading back to the house?"

"Sounds good," Jack said, pulling himself to his feet and offering her a hand to help her up. She took it, shivering slightly at his touch before they headed for the gates that Rowan had slipped through to get to the park. Jack began to relay what had happened during the meeting with North to her as they walked. He spoke of Yelena in the briefest of terms, though Rowan's curiosity was peaked when it was revealed the woman had been a Mortal Muse. Their story seemed romantic, touching, but all and all, very sad.

Added to the list of reasons why she should not be thinking of Jack Frost in the ways she had been.

By the time they reached the house and Rowan set her snow-covered boots by the door, Jack began to tell her about the other matter he'd discussed with North: the vote. She briefly greeted her parents, who were glued to some crime drama on television, in order to let them know she had returned home, before walking with Jack to her room as he continued speaking.

"So, the sparknotes version is that this Pitch Black guy knows how to keep the Shadow People from making a meal of my or anyone else's soul," Rowan said a short wile later, lying atop her bed, her head dangling over the edge as she watched Jack upside down. He was seated cross-legged in her desk chair, tilting his head slightly as though to make eye contact better.

"Yes," Jack said with a nod.

"And that there's going to be a vote to decide if you guys are going to negotiate with this guy for the information. The guy that tried to kill my little cousin," Rowan said, her distaste for the idea clear in her voice. She had never met this Boogie Man, but Jack and Jamie's stories were enough to leave her with a grudge of her own.

"I don't like it either, but it really is our best option right now," Jack frowned. "And, actually, you're technically part of the alliance so you get a vote."

"What, me?" Rowan said, sitting upright suddenly and turning so that she could properly face Jack. "I don't know enough about any of this to vote, Jack! All I know is that he tried to kill my cousin so I don't trust him, and you're my friend and I trust you so that already has me conflicted between the two options here."

"You trust me now, hm?" Jack smirked.

"You're ignoring the problem here," Rowan said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Right, well, according to the Big Book of the Guardians-"

"Is that what it's officially called?"

"I don't think so. Anyway, according to that, you either show up to vote, or you can decline your right to vote in writing. So, I figure you just write something out and I'll take it with me to the meeting," Jack said.

"Sounds like the best option, I guess," Rowan said, reaching for her notebook and a pen. "Is there like a certain format I'm supposed to write it in?"

"I'm not sure," Jack said as she tore a blank page carefully from the notebook.

"I'll just… wing it, I guess," Rowan said, placing pen to paper and beginning to write as neatly as she could manage. "This meeting's tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, it is," Jack said. The girl signed her name on the page, with a large loops and twirls.

"Here," Rowan said, handing him the piece of paper before capping her pen. Jack glanced down at the page, reading what she'd written before carefully folding it and placing it within his jacket's front pocket.

"Looks good to me," he said.

"So this is just going to be the Guardians and Muses voting, then?"

"And the sun, and Manny," Jack said.

"Do you think you guys will win?" she asked.

"I don't know. Maybe. I'm not sure how the Muses will vote."

Rowan frowned. "Well. Good luck."

"Thanks," Jack said. The pair fell into silence, which seemed to be becoming commonplace after discussing such serious matters.

Rowan glanced at the floor, unsure what to say now, eyes fixed on the area beside her bed that Jack had slept upon the night before. He had reminded her of an Egyptian sarcophagus with his staff crossed over his chest as he settled himself into what he had insisted was a comfortable position.

"Jack," she said after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"You're not sleeping on the floor again," she said, glancing back up at him.

"It's no big deal, really," the boy said quickly. "I mean, the floor's nice, I don't mind."

"Jack, it's a, um, double bed," she said, feeling her cheeks turn pink as she stated as much, avoiding his eyes. Suggesting that they start sharing a bed was entirely counter-productive to her plan to avoid temptation and falling any harder for him.

"That it is," Jack said hesitantly.

"Look, I mean, the bed's plenty big enough and it's not like we haven't shared one before. We're both adults here, it doesn't have to be weird, right?" Rowan said hesitantly, finally meeting his eyes again. He looked about as nervous as she felt, and she wasn't sure if she should take that as comforting or not. "I have a lamp here too, so you could read, I'll just sleep on that side."

"You sure?"

Was she sure? She kept telling herself that this was a completely platonic thing. She just didn't want him sleeping on the floor and being uncomfortable when he was there protecting her. Offering up some of the extra room on her mattress was the least she could do, right?

Yeah, it had nothing to do with the fact that she liked the way he smelled and when he'd wrap his arms around her after a nightmare. She certainly hadn't considered the notion of Jack being in her bed with her and doing-

Rowan shook the thought from her mind. "Yeah, it'll be fine," she said hastily. This would all be so much easier, she decided, if she hadn't seen him shirtless. He just had to be in shape, didn't he? All she wanted to do was touch him and-

"I mean, I just don't want to make you cold or anything," Jack said nervously, pulling her from her thoughts again.

"I've got a quilt, you'll be fine," she said.

"Well, if you want me in your bed that badly, Sawyer," Jack said suggestively, laughing slightly.

Rowan's mind was immediately wandering back to a place it shouldn't. Again. Icy, pale skin. Soft, messy hair. Big, blue eyes. The twirling frost designs he left behind whenever he touched her. Goosebumps, hearts racing.

Forget just wanting one kiss, her goddamn hormones were now begging her for one night.

"Don't flatter yourself, Frost," she said. It took everything within her to keep the nonchalant expression on her face.

Jack hadn't visited the pole with such frequency since the entire affair with Pitch months earlier. Standing nervously near Tooth, who was speaking with Erato in hushed tones about something he was sure he couldn't care less about, he took a moment to at least be glad that North hadn't sent the Yetis for him this time. He'd followed the signal sent out, just like the others had.

When Bunny emerged from his tunnel nearby, it left only Clio that the rest of them were waiting on. Bunny barely greeted the others before going to talk to North. They spoke quietly enough so that Jack could not hear, though he was certain it had something to do with whether or not North had told Jack about Yelena yet.

North's story and subsequent encouragement to pursue something with Rowan somehow just managed to make Jack even more unsure of what he should do. At least if he and Bunny were both on the "don't start anything with Rowan" page, he could just be an ass and do the opposite.

He'd woken up that morning after falling asleep atop her covers to find that in his sleep he'd somehow wandered over to her and hooked an arm around her waist. His face had been buried in her soft hair.

He had quickly inched away before she could wake up and notice. Arguably the simplest solution to his problems (well, his "I have a crush on a mortal" problems, anyway) would be to just admit to it and get it over-with. But he still wasn't sure if the night she'd kissed him on the cheek had been a dream or not. He found himself possibly more nervous about the thought of her rejecting him than this meeting about Pitch. They had such a nice friendship going on already, and the fact that he had to stay with her every night until they got this sorted out would make any rejection just that much more awkward.

The story with Yelena had him torn between seizing the moment before it was gone forever and holding back to avoid the seemingly inevitable heartache. It seemed that North and Bunny each had made the points they wanted to through the story and left Jack completely confused about what to do in the process.

All he knew was that one way or another, she was going to die. He just had to make sure it wasn't because of the Shadow People. That he protected her like he had promised Jamie that he would. That he enjoyed his time with her while he could.

He wasn't sure if there was room for romance there.

"How does a time traveler run late? Honestly, though," Calliope mumbled, drawing Jack from his thoughts.

"The winds were a bit rough, she might just be having a hard time getting here," Polyhymnia pointed out gently. She was one of the taller Muses, perhaps the same height as Melpomene, but somehow managed not to be so intimidating. Her voice was soothing.

"I really hope this meeting presents some new information," Urania said, lightly stroking her moonbeam. With the new moon less than a week away, all of the moonbeams were noticeably smaller, dimmer, than they had been at the last meeting. Urania seemed tired; Jack wondered when the last time she slept might have been.

Clio flew, less than gracefully, in from the opening in the ceiling. The mechanical wings attached to her back were coated in ice and her hair was disheveled from the wind. She landed sloppily and quickly retracted her wings, leaving a pile of ice as she pulled off her goggles and tried to straighten her curls.

"You couldn't ease up on the blizzards, could you, Frost?" Clio groaned.

"Sorry," Jack said absentmindedly. The Muses? Giving him a hard time about doing his job? How original.

"See," Polyhymnia said to Calliope before walking over to Clio and beginning to brush snow off the shorter Muse's shoulders.

"Go ahead, Jack," North said. "Everyone is here."

Suddenly every eye was on him. He fidgeted slightly, clearing his throat nervously. He hadn't expected to have to be the one to speak right away, to explain what the meeting was about.

The fact that quite a few of the Muses simply expected him to say something stupid, to screw up somehow, was not easing his nerves at all.

"I asked North to call this meeting because, as far as I'm concerned, it's becoming pretty obvious that we need another plan of attack," Jack said, hoping to convey more confidence than he currently possessed. "The Shadow People know that Rowan's the Mortal Muse and it's only a matter of time before they find her again. The new moon is coming and Manny won't be able to help us. We need to find out what we can do about the Shadow People now, before it's too late. We can't wait for Christmas… I asked North to call this meeting so that we can vote on whether or not to make a deal with Pitch for the information we need."

"What!?" Bunny was the first to say anything, clearly appalled. The Muses began to whisper among themselves, Melpomene's lips twisting into a smile.

There was always something unsettling about Melpomene smiling.

"You all know how the vote works. We will present both sides and then obtain a 'yay' or 'nay' from everyone individually," North said, his huge voice calling everyone's attention back to the meeting.

"We can't vote," Calliope said at once. "The protocol is that every member of the alliance must vote and as it is, they are not all present."

"Oh, right, the Mortal Muse," Terpsichore said thoughtfully.

Jack reached into his pocket, pulling out Rowan's note before approaching Calliope and handing it to her without a word. The eldest Muse eyed the paper quizzically before plucking it from his grasp and unfolding it.

"I, Rowan Sawyer, as the acknowledged Mortal Muse, do hereby decline my right to vote at the meeting of the Guardians and Muses dated December Tenth," Calliope read aloud, a scowl immediately coming to her face before she folded the note once more.

"So, we proceed," North said, though he was frowning as well. Jack could only guess that the pair had hoped to void the results or postpone this vote on a technicality.

"And what about Apollo and Tsar Lunar's votes?" Calliope said.

"They must have known," Urania said, pulling two folded pieces of parchment from within her vest. "They sent me with these."

"You know the procedure," Calliope sighed. Urania approached North, standing before him and holding out the papers before her.

"Urania," North said, "Do you swear that to the best of your knowledge, these votes have not been seen or tampered with while in your possession?"

"I do," said Urania. North nodded, taking the papers from Urania's hands and lightly setting them atop the thick Guardians' handbook, resting on its alter.

"Now we present both sides," North said.

"Fine, Pitch is the physical embodiment of fear," Bunny said, stepping toward the center of the group in order to command everyone's attention. "For years we've fought against him, and it's not in his nature for him to be forgiving or cooperative. The argument is that he knows the darkness better than the rest of us, he'll know how to defeat the Shadow People. The fact that he knows the darkness so well is exactly why we shouldn't trust him. Inviting him in to our circle and expecting him to be benevolent is foolishness."

The Muses began to mumble among themselves again. Calliope stepped forward, standing beside Bunny. "Pitch has acted against this alliance numerous times in the past. The most recent and terrible example was his, thankfully temporary, elimination of the Sandman. We can negotiate with him all we want, but his best interests will always be with his own well-being, not ours. We cannot cozy up to a lesser threat in response to a larger one."

More mumbling. The Guardians mostly remained silent. Tooth's brow was furrowed, she seemed conflicted.

"Would anyone else like to speak against making a deal with Pitch?" North asked. The group was silent. Calliope and Bunny returned to their respective places in the group. "Fine. Those in favor of making a deal may now present their case."

Melpomene did not need to be asked twice, stepping gracefully into the center of the group and turning to address the others. "You all know exactly what I'm going to say: the light cannot exist without the dark. You like to think that you've got it all figured out but the darkness still baffles you. That is why we need Pitch, because his information is the flip side of the coin. We cannot hope to win this with only half the information. We need balance. We need the comedy to our tragedy, the dark to our light. It would do you all well to remember your own darkness, to remember that you are not so far above Pitch as you believe yourselves to be. We are not all black and white, but various shades of grey. He's not so different as you think he is.

"He is also weak. There is little he could do to harm any of us at this point. The Shadow People are doing him more harm than good. He will negotiate, he will bargain, and he will cooperate because he needs them out of the picture as much as we do."

More mumbling among the Muses.

"Anyone else?" North asked. Jack swallowed before stepping beside Melpomene, careful to look anywhere but at the Muse beside him. Even standing so close made him uncomfortable.

"Like I said before, the new moon is only a few days away. The moonbeams won't be any help. If the Shadow People attack with bigger numbers, I don't know that I'll be able to defeat them. A great deal of you have an astonishingly low opinion of my abilities in the first place," he cast Calliope an annoyed glance, "This would seem a strange instance to decide to have confidence in them. If I thought there was another way to do this, I'd vote against it. I don't want to ask Pitch for help. We have to."

Before another word could be uttered from anyone else, Jack returned to his spot with the Guardians, beside Tooth.

"Is that all?" North asked. When he received no response, Melpomene strolled back to her place between Polyhymnia and Thalia. "Then we vote."

"For those who may have forgotten, we vote Guardians first, then Muses, oldest to youngest. I will address the Guardians; Nicholas will address the Muses. If you are in favor of making a deal with Pitch, you vote 'yay.' If you are opposed, 'nay,'" Calliope said. She approached Sandy first, kneeling down to the floor in order to be on the small Guardian's level.

"Sanderson Mansnoozie, Guardian of Dreams, how do you vote?"

Sandy smiled nervously at the Muse before giving her the thumbs up. Calliope's brow furrowed and she was very clearly taken aback. She opened her mouth to speak before immediately closing it. Finally, she pulled herself to her feet, no longer looking in the small man's direction.

"That's one yay," she mumbled, lips pursed, before approaching North, looking up at him. "Nicholas St. North, Guardian of Wonder, how do you vote?"

"Nay," North said without hesitation. Calliope nodded and walked to Bunny.

"E. Aster Bunnymund, Guardian of Hope, how do you vote?"

"Nay," Bunny said with the same confidence that North had voted.

Calliope moved down the line. "Toothiana, Guardian of Memories, how do you vote?"

Tooth hesitated. Her eyes darted among the other Guardians and the Muses, particularly Erato, whom she had been speaking to earlier. The conflict was clear in her face, and Jack was ready to suggest that perhaps she just decline to vote all together.

"Yay," she said suddenly, eyes fixed on the floor, unable to face Calliope, whose eyes narrowed before she left Tooth where she was and approached Jack.

"Jackson Overland Frost, Guardian of Fun, how do you vote?"

"Yay," Jack said. Calliope turned her heel, walking to rejoin the Muses.

"Thus far, three in favor, two opposed, one vote declined," Calliope said as she took her place.

Jack swallowed nervously as North walked over to start addressing the Muses. So far, he was ahead. He was still a little surprised that Tooth had voted with him, but it would be a lie to say it had not been a relief to hear her vote. There were still nine Muses, however, and this all could change.

"Calliope, Muse of Epic Poetry, how do you vote?" North asked.

"Nay," Calliope said at once, casting Sandy a glance but briefly.

"Clio, Muse of History, how do you vote?" asked North as he moved down the line to the next oldest Muse.

"Nay," Clio said. Jack winced. Perhaps he'd been too confident too early.

"Erato, Muse of Love Poetry, how do you vote?"

"Yay."

"Polyhymnia, Muse of Hymns, how do you vote?"

"Nay."

Jack did the math in his head. Those opposed were now ahead, but Melpomene was next to vote, and he knew she would at least vote with him. It was strange being on her side about something. It was something that hadn't happened in a very, very long time.

"Melpomene, Muse of Tragedy, how do you vote?"

"Yay," Melpomene said, her unsettling smile still fixed on her face.

"Thalia, Muse of Comedy, how do you vote?"

The small blonde nervously glanced in the direction of the Muses that had already voted before saying, "Yay."

"Urania, Muse of Astronomy, how do you vote?"

"Yay."

"Terpsichore, Muse of Dance, how do you vote?"

Terpischore glanced at the others as well, biting her lip before finally saying, "Nay."

"Euterpe, Muse of Song, how do you vote?"

Euterpe hesitated, swallowing and staring at the floor. Jack held his breath. So far they were ahead. But if she voted against them, she could potentially put the vote in a tie for the sun and moon to break.

"Euterpe?" North repeated.

"Yay," the youngest Muse said at last.

"Now we read the votes from the sun and moon," North said, approaching the parchment. "Those in favor of speaking with Pitch only need one of the two votes to win."

"However if both of them vote 'nay,' the vote is a tie, and we vote again at a later time," Calliope added.

"Precisely," North said, approaching the folded sheets of parchment. He took the vote with a crescent moon stamped atop it, while Calliope took the other. This one featured an outline of a circle with a solid circle within it: the astrological symbol for the sun.

Unfolding the page before him, North read the vote and sighed. "The Man in the Moon has voted in favor of negotiating with Pitch."

"You have got to be kidding me!" Bunny said at once, unable to keep quiet. He approached North who let him look at the sheet. The rabbit shook his head, irritation clear on his face.

"Apollo… has also voted in favor," Calliope said, practically throwing the parchment back onto the alter and stomping off toward her place with the Muses, arms crossed before her. Sandy floated over to her on one of his dream clouds, and she simply waved the small man away as though he were a fly of some kind. Sandy simply rolled his eyes before returning to his place with the Guardians.

Jack leaned against the nearby railing in disbelief. They'd gotten the votes, with room to spare! He was torn between being thrilled about this or not. A small part of him was sort of hoping they'd lose so he wouldn't have to deal with Pitch, but keeping Rowan safe was more important. Far more important.

"It is settled, then," North said. "We will offer Pitch protection in exchange for information we can use to stop the Shadow People."

"All the information he has on the Shadow People," Jack said.

"Right, right, all of it," North nodded. "This will, of course, be a temporary arrangement. As soon as the Shadow People are taken care of, all deals are off."

"That part's fine with me," Bunny muttered.

"Fine, Melpomene, go get him," Calliope said. "Thalia, go with her, I don't want anything funny happening."

"So you're sending along the Muse of Comedy. Good call, Calliope, this is why you're our leader," Thalia said as she and Melpomene began to fasten their masks in place. Calliope glared at the younger Muse who visibly winced under her gaze.

"Right, right, we're going," Thalia said, linking arms with Melpomene.

In the next instant, the pair was gone.