Author's Note:

OMG, I just realized! Only a couple more chapters and it's the end! :'( I'm legitimately sad, but it has to end sometime right? Plus, there's always the one-shots, so that's always something to look forward to. :)

As promised, from this chapter on things start to look up for our characters. Next chapter's first draft is already done, so it'll be posted either later this week or early next week depending on how my schedule turns out. I have to say...I laughed quite a bit while writing it. Let's just say for now that somebody goes a bit crazy when they learn about the *ahem* news. XD

booklover1798- Happy you enjoyed it. Always am! :)

beccadarlingmusic- Once again I'm both pleased and embarrassed by your amazing review. And don't worry about me, I'm not stressing to pump this out, it's just that I'm a bit OCD when it comes to dates and deadlines, so when I promised myself (and you guys) one chapter per week I took that seriously. Did fairly well until recently, so I only lost my mind a little bit. ;) Also, glad you liked Jorge's character. I didn't want to get crazy with the OCs, so I'm always glad to hear people are enjoying my creations.

TheInsaneM-Happy to hear you're sticking around!

Momochan77-Me too! Writing and editing that chapter was so depressing! :( But as you said, there are kids out there who deal with this and worse, and I honestly drew a lot of inspiration from reading about court cases in the news. And you're not the only one wondering how she'd react...I truly considered writing a one-shot about Jorge's family coming, but I just don't know how that will work because every ending I can come up with based on her character is "And then they were all burned into crisps" lol.

Anyway, please enjoy! Oh! And welcome to the new readers, followers and/or favorites! (Can't forget about you). :D

They picked up the interrupted conversation again the very next day. As it was a Saturday, and the weather was so nice, Jorge was chased out of the house by Mrs. Rollins. He sat under the oak tree in his front yard with a book held up to his face, that way nobody passing by would suspect that he was talking to someone.

"How was it last night?" Lilliana asked, though she already knew the answer.

"All right," he replied easily. "She's not that bad."

"Good."

"Do you think—?" He hesitated for just a moment as he put his thoughts in order. "Do you think they ever…you know, think I'm a burden?"

She snorted. "Please. If you were a burden to them, do you honestly think they'd be doing this in the first place?"

"Huh?"

"You do know that they've been taking in kids for a long time, right?"

He had to know that. Even she knew that.

He nodded. "Yeah, of course I do. But most of the time they make arrangements beforehand, you know. Like they get to pick which kids they want and stuff. With me it was all so sudden… I just feel like I was, I don't know, thrown at them or something."

"You were, in a way, but that wasn't something you or they or anyone else could help. The police back in California needed to get you away from your family. I may not know a lot about your human legal and foster systems, but I'm fairly certain they purposefully picked this home because it serves a dual purpose. It's far from any of your kin, so it's incredibly unlikely that they'll find you again, but even if they do somehow locate you they'll have to contend with that Rollins man and his, shall we say, connections."

Standing there beside him, the flora spirit glanced down at the boy. "Trust me, it may have happened suddenly but a great deal of thought was put into this. And after what happened with your first foster family, do you honestly think pity alone would've been enough to convince these people to take you?"

He thought about that. "I guess not," he decided after a while.

"Then don't consider yourself a burden. They haven't made you feel unwelcome, have they?"

He shook his head.

"There you have it," she said with a wave of her hand. "You carry so much anxiety—you're twisting everything in your head until you can only see negativity every time you open your eyes. That's what I was talking about yesterday when I said that your fear is ultimately more harmful than helpful."

"But I can't help it," he said quietly. "I've tried to stop being scared…like with Mr. Rollins and stuff. But it's hard."

"You suffered under Fernando for a long time, boy," she pointed out gently. "The effects of that aren't going to disappear instantaneously. As I said: it may take a long time, possibly even years. It all depends."

"On what?"

She shrugged. "It's different for everyone. It took me centuries, but that was partly my own fault. I have a bad habit of disappearing into the wilds somewhere whenever I get upset. Distancing myself from others like that did provide temporary relief, but it also kept me apart from the one spirit could've possibly helped me."

"Your husband?" the boy reasoned.

"Yes. We coexisted in this world for many, many years before we ever met. Perhaps if I'd met him sooner I would've been spared some of the pain and loneliness I endured, perhaps not, but after becoming acquainted with him I finally understood that nothing will ever change if you're unwilling to take calculated risks."

"'Calculated risks?'" he repeated, confused.

She thought for a moment, trying to put it into words his young mind could understand. "Because I had been hurt so often and by so many, from my mother and her servants to the numerous spirits of this world, I'd decided that being alone was less painful than being rejected. In my mind, the hope of finally meeting someone who accepted me for who and what I am simply wasn't worth the risk of being hurt again. Because of that, I didn't meet my husband until long after I'd spent so much time alone that I was desperate for some sort of company…any sort of company."

Lilliana's piercing green eyes caught and held the boy's dark ones. This was something he needed to hear, no matter how painful it might be for him.

"Be it a human or a spirit, there's no way for you to know with complete certainty whether or not someone will hurt you. That has nothing to do with you, but with the fact that everyone possesses the capacity to make their own decisions. You knew your mother for literally your entire life—"

He winced.

"—she gave birth to you and raised you and, for the first seven or eight years of your life, she loved you unconditionally. I cannot say why she did it—nobody can explain why except for her—but when the time came for her to make a choice, she chose to side with Fernando. That was her decision and hers alone. The fact of the matter is you couldn't have stopped her from making that choice any more than you could've possibly stopped Fernando from doing the things he did to you. "

"So then…how do I know? How am I supposed to trust anyone if I don't know if they're gonna hurt me or not?"

"That's what I meant by calculated risk. Just because everyone around you is capable of doing terrible things doesn't necessarily mean that they will. The people you loved most betrayed and hurt you, yet the cousin you detested, Ramón, turned out to be the only one willing to help you. That goes to show that just as each and every relationship you form in your life carries the potential of bringing you pain or sorrow or anger, they also have the capacity to bring you joy and comfort and love. Some may even do both. You first have to learn to decide for yourself which people are worthy of your attention and trust, and which ones are not. Then you have to understand and accept the fact that while many will treasure that trust and treat it with honor, others will abuse or abandon it. But doesn't the lasting happiness you gain from those positive relationships far outweigh the temporary hurt from those that eventually break?"

Jorge stared up at her. "Does it?"

"In my mind, it does. All the hurt and confusion and anger and loneliness I endured as a young spirit were terrible, yes, and they very nearly broke me. But had I not decided to take one final chance I would've never met my husband, who has given me all the happiness I could ever possibly want."

She bent down so that they were literally nose-to-nose. His eyes widened but he didn't dare look away as she informed him in a firm voice, "Those are the choices you have, boy: either take the chance that you might be hurt in exchange for the possibility of gaining life-long relationships, or stay miserable and lonely forever." Then she grinned. "Actually…you've already made the choice once."

He drew back a little, startled and confused by that statement. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you decide to trust me in spite of the fact that you knew literally nothing about me except that I am a spirit?"

"Yes," he admitted slowly. "But…but that's different."

"How so?"

"Umm…" He thought hard about it, but just couldn't think of a reasonable explanation.

"See?" she said, straightening up again. "It will be hard for you at first, but with time and practice you'll become more acquainted with trusting humans again."

Her attention suddenly drawn by a familiar—if still far-off—presence, Lilliana turned her head to stare off into the distance.

If he's here, that can only mean…

Reaching out with her power, she touched the roots of the earth to obtain confirmation. Upon receiving it, she told Jorge, "Come on."

"Where are we going?" he asked eagerly, setting the book aside at once and clambering to his feet.

"I'm going to show you."

"Show me what?" he inquired, huffing a bit as he struggled to catch up with her.

"That risks are sometimes worth taking."

He frowned, his expressive face reflecting a mixture of confusion and worry, but he dutifully followed without further question. The expression only became more pronounced as they headed into the forest, for he had no idea why they would be going there so suddenly.

Then he heard laughter.

"Where are we going?" he asked again, only this time his voice was little more than a squeak.

"Relax, boy. Do you honestly think I'd introduce you to a bunch of hoodlums?"

"Well, no," he admitted reluctantly. "But…but I thought you didn't know anyone here except me."

"I don't know them," she corrected. "I honestly don't even like them."

"Then why are you making me—?!" His outburst ended abruptly when he spotted the kids through the trees and recognized them. "Oh."

Yes, Lilliana didn't like those kids. In fact, she very nearly detested them. But they knew of the Guardians, and they knew of her, both of which would make befriending them easier for Jorge.

Besides, as angry as she was with them for defying her Pitch, the events of this past Easter made it clear to her that they were precisely the sort of stubborn, devoted human beings Jorge needed to be associating with.

Detestable as they are, anyone who's willing to challenge the Nightmare King for the sake of five idiot spirits isn't going to turn on their comrades anytime soon, she thought, eyeing the scene before her with more than a little distaste.

The six brats in question were gathered near the pond, having what appeared to be a water-balloon fight. They looked ridiculous, soaking wet as they were, but a quick glance at Jorge revealed that she'd done well in bringing him here. He was wide-eyed with envy as he observed the fun and excitement they appeared to be creating together. Frost was there, too, unbeknownst to Jorge, laughing exuberantly as he soared about on his wind. The winter spirit was too busy pelting earth-bound humans with balloons to notice the arrival of an audience, and amidst the chaos in the clearing Lilliana's ward didn't realize that a number of projectiles were seemingly dropping from the sky of their own accord.

"Those guys?" Jorge asked, still uncertain in spite of his obvious desire to join in.

"They told you about me, didn't they?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"So I think it's safe to assume that they don't hold any malice towards you. Besides," she gestured towards the group, "looks like fun, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," he said wistfully.

"So why not take a chance and go talk to them?"

In the end, the choice was made for him, for as Jorge continued to hesitate on the edge of the tree line one of the brats spotted him.

"Hey, look!" he exclaimed, pointing. In his moment of distraction, one of the two participating girls caught him in the back of the head with a balloon. It burst spectacularly, dousing him with water.

"Haha, Jamie, got you!" she sang.

"No, look!" the brat insisted, wiping soaked bangs out of his eyes with one hand and pointing with the other. There was a broad smile plastered on his face. "It's Jorge!"

The other kids and Frost all stopped to look while the boy waved enthusiastically. "Hey, Jorge!" he called. "Whatcha doing?!"

Jorge took a step back, his gaze darting wildly to Lilliana. The flora spirit had chosen to remain hidden amongst the trees, for she not only desired to associate with Frost and those brats as little as possible but also recognized the need for Jorge to start handling his own affairs. Still, upon catching sight of the boy's rising panic, she offered an encouraging nod.

"Go on."

"I…I dunno if I can…" he whispered.

"It worked out well enough with the Rollins woman last night, didn't it?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Hi!"

Jorge jumped as the brat who'd called out to him suddenly appeared at his elbow.

"I'm Jamie," he said, panting a little. "We've met before."

"I know," Jorge mumbled, staring down at his sneakers.

"Wanna play with us?"

"Umm…"

"Woah!"

That exclamation came from a pair of dark-skinned twins who'd come up behind the Jamie brat.

"Are you Starfire?" one of them asked, staring directly at the half-hidden flora spirit.

"Duh, it's Starfire," the other said, whacking his brother on the arm. "We wouldn't see her if it wasn't, idiot."

"Oh yeah."

They turned in unison to fix Lilliana with stupid wide-eyed looks, and even that Jamie brat had shifted his attention onto her.

"Hi," he said, but with a little less enthusiasm than he had with Jorge. "I'm Jamie."

"I heard," she replied in a clipped voice. She was trying really hard to remain impartial for Jorge's sake, but facing this brat who'd singlehandedly foiled her Pitch left a drop of bitter anger in her stomach.

Look at him, she thought, eyeing the scrawny boy up and down. It's absurd that someone like that can thwart a spirit.

"So, wanna play?" the Jamie brat asked Jorge, either oblivious to the dark look he was receiving from Lilliana or choosing to act as though he was. She strongly suspected the latter to be the case, for his human friends were all regarding her with a mixture of awed excitement and worry.

"If…if you want me to," Jorge said shyly. Then he lifted his head. "Sorry I tried to hit you," he said in a rush, pushing the words out of his mouth before he lost the nerve to say them.

Jamie waved his apology off. "Don't worry about it, I know we startled you."

"Just don't try that with Cupcake, or she'll pummel you," one of the twins said. His brother's laughter at that statement turned into a cackle when the girl in question clenched her fist and punched the boy on the arm. Not too hard, of course, but hard enough to hurt. "Ow!"

Glaring, the stocky girl stomped up to Jorge. "Good thing you listened to me," she said gruffly, her face twisted into a scowl.

"Uh, yeah," Jorge replied, taking a half-step back.

The girl's face then underwent a remarkable transformation. Every tense muscle relaxed as she suddenly beamed at him. "You're on our team!"

"Hey, no fair!" the twins cried in unison. "It's already four-to-three!"

"You guys have Jack," the girl retorted. "And we've got Monty."

"Hey!" a blonde brat with glasses—who'd been hanging back quietly until that point—exclaimed indignantly while the twins sniggered.

"So we get Jorge," the stocky girl told them as if that finalized the matter.

"Are we playing or what?" the other girl called as she patted the pouting blonde on the shoulder. "And Jack, no cheating!"

"I'm not cheating," the frost spirit said, lifting his hands in a gesture of innocence.

"We said you could fly, but you can't deflect balloons with the wind! That's not fair!"

"Who are you talking to?" Jorge asked, prompting all six kids to look at him.

"Jack Frost," the Jamie brat said with a huge grin. Apparently the prospect of enlightening a non-believer as to the existence of the idiot Guardian excited him. He pointed to where the frost spirit was standing. "He's over there!"

Jorge looked but couldn't see him.

"He's a spirit too," the brat explained happily. "So you have to believe to see him. He's also a Guardian!"

The knowledge that this unseen spirit had some sort of connection with Lilliana immediately grabbed Jorge's interest. "Really?"

"Yeah! The Guardian of Fun! Pretty cool, huh?"

Frost grinned at the praise while Lilliana rolled her eyes. Jorge didn't see either, though, as Frost was still invisible to him and his back was to the flora spirit.

"You've gotta meet the other Guardians, too," the brat went on excitedly. "Santa Clause and Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy and—"

"They're all real?" Jorge exclaimed, his eyes growing wide at the implications of what that meant.

"Yeah, they're the other Guardians! And Sandman, too! They're all awesome! You'll get to meet them if you believe!"

"Really?!"

"Of course! Starfire's gonna be a Guardian soon, too, right? So you'll probably get to meet them when she takes the oath!"

"You brats aren't going!" Lilliana interrupted, but it was already too late.

"Aw, come on," the Jamie brat whined. "We got to see Jack's oath-taking, so why not yours? Besides, the more the merrier, right?"

"You're not going!"

"Why not?" Jorge asked curiously, and at that moment Frost smirked and Lilliana groaned because they both knew she'd just lost the argument.

But that didn't stop her from trying to salvage the situation.

"Because I don't want them there," she told Jorge. "They only cause trouble."

"If you mean that bit with your husband, he started it," that annoying brunette called, hands going to her hips.

"Can't I go?" Jorge pleaded, thankfully missing the girl's declaration. Lilliana raked a hand through her curls in frustration.

"Yes, you can go, but not them!"

"Hey, now, that's not really fair, is it?" Frost asked with a conspiratorial grin.

"Butt out, Frost!"

"He is real?!" Instantly distracted, Jorge looked back out into the clearing and gasped, one hand shooting up to point at the frost spirit. "You're…you're really…?! ¡Dios!"

"Nice to meet you, too," Frost said with a laugh.

"See?" the Jamie brat told Lilliana brightly. "It's lots more fun when everybody's included!"

Before the flora spirit could cut him with a retort, he grabbed Jorge's hand and dragged the taller boy out into the clearing. "Come on! It's Claude, Caleb and Jack against the rest of us!"

"And remember, Jack, no cheating!" the brunette reminded the spirit, who groaned good-naturedly.

"Fine, Pippa, fine."

But Lilliana wasn't through. The matter of the oath-taking wasn't settled, in her opinion, not one little bit.

"You brats are not going!" she insisted, but none of them were listening. They'd already started pelting each other with those ridiculous rubber projectiles, and she just couldn't bring herself to ruin that over something so petty when Jorge was clearly enjoying himself.

You damn brats…

"Annoying, ain't it?"

Lilliana wasn't at all surprised when the rabbit hopped forward, for she'd felt his presence the moment he'd opened up a tunnel in the nearby trees. Reaching her side, he rose up on two legs and gazed out into the clearing, flat nose twitching as he watched the kids and Frost play.

"You get used to the ankle-biters after a while," he assured her in a far calmer tone than she was used to hearing from the Pooka.

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?" she questioned, causing him to chuckle dryly.

"Depends on how you look at it, I suppose."

They stood in silence for a long while. Lilliana watched Jorge pelt one of the twins in the back of the head with a balloon. The silly red thing exploded in a shower of cold water, and the flora spirit smirked as she watched the kid shout and leap about like a half-drowned feline.

Even more impressive than that spectacular shot, though, was the sound of Jorge's genuine laughter. It echoed around the clearing and out through the trees, filling Lilliana's chest with a pleasant warmth.

The rabbit seemed to be listening too, for when he spoke again it didn't take much effort to deduce who he was talking about. "Takes a lot of talent to get something like that outta them without Frost's help," he said, meaning the frost spirit's magical snowflakes. "Especially after what he went through."

Emerald eyes flicked to the flora spirit. "Well done, sheila."

The corner of her mouth lifted into a wicked smile. "How do those words taste, rabbit?"

"Like dung," he replied curtly, but as there was no malice in those words Lilliana didn't take offence. "Really, Starfire, I think you'll do fine with this," he continued. "I admit that I was wrong to worry."

"Hmmm," she hummed, not trusting herself to say anything else as it would undoubtedly be taken the wrong way. She didn't need an argument when she was in a pretty good mood right now.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem as if the rabbit was quite through with her just yet.

"About before," he said, shuffling his large feet. "When I went after you at the Pole…I shouldn't have done that."

She heaved a long sigh. "I was partly to blame," she admitted with a great deal of reluctance. "I shouldn't have goaded you."

"Still, I should've held my temper, especially since Manny had chosen you. Ain't exactly a pleasant welcome to the group, ya know?"

"Well, you all got what you wanted in the end regardless."

The rabbit shifted again, only this time he stepped right in front of the flora spirit so that he was facing her-head on. Emerald eyes stared directly into leaf-green ones as the Pooka informed her, "You need to understand something, Starfire. None of this was part of some conspiracy to hurt or enslave you. You or Pitch," he added when Lilliana opened her mouth. "Manny may have his own way of doing things, but that certainly doesn't mean he does them for purely selfish reasons. He would never use Guardianship for personal gain, 'cause that would demean what we do and dehumanize the kids we help." He shook his head slightly. "You may not believe me, but that's something you'll have to deal with on your own. Just remember that Manny looks out for children, all children, and that you, Starfire, were once a child."

What's that supposed to mean?

"Maybe the reason he looks out for you ain't 'cause he feels guilty over how you were born," the Pooka went on, heedless of the flora spirit's dumbfounded look. "Maybe it's 'cause he feels guilty over the fact that he couldn't help you when you were a kid 'cause Sun Woman wouldn't let him interfere."

What is he saying? she wondered, a strange numbness taking over her body. Is he suggesting that Moon-man obsesses over me because he feels bad for me, and not because he feels bad for my mother?

If that were the case, then just what the hell was she supposed to do with that knowledge?

She honestly didn't know.

With one last hard look, the Pooka stepped away from her, returning to his original position at her side.

"Just keep that in mind," he muttered, dropping down to all-fours so he could scratch at an itch on his shoulder. Clumps of winter coat broke free of his body to float away on the wind. "Dammit, it's getting hot!" he complained as he scratched.

"A little late to be shedding isn't it?" she asked dryly.

"Yeah, well, there was still snow on the ground at Easter, I'll have you know," he reminded her grumpily, scratching harder and with more determination.

Shaking her head at the absurdity of watching a giant rabbit groom himself, Lilliana turned her attention back to Jorge. They'd run out of balloons, it seemed, so now Frost was using gentle gusts of wind and rapidly-melting sheets of ice to push the kids across the surface of the pond. Jorge appeared to be having the time of his life, even with that scrawny Jamie brat jabbering incessantly at him.

I just hope our kid doesn't talk that much.

Speaking of…

"I suppose I must thank you," she said suddenly, addressing the Pooka.

"For what?" he asked, straightening up at last.

"For keeping your mouth shut."

He didn't have to ask what she meant.

"Yeah, well, it ain't really my business, is it?" he said, pulling one last stray clump of hair from his body and discarding it without a second glance. "Believe me, Starfire, if I could've stayed outta that I would've, but I can't help it."

"I know."

And she did. As much as it annoyed her that the rabbit had found out about the baby before she or Pitch did, she couldn't find fault with him for it as he couldn't help what his spiritual powers allowed him to do.

"But I ain't gonna be able to keep it a secret much longer," he said, meaning the child's growing presence. Lilliana knew as well as he did that soon enough the other Guardians would be able to sense it, too, whether she liked it or not. "And neither are you," he added, emerald eyes fixing pointedly upon her growing stomach.

Voice tinged with warning, she inquired of the Pooka, "Are you insinuating something?"

"Oh, no," he said hastily, waving his paws in the air. "No way. I'm not stepping into that."

She smothered a smirk as he spluttered and mumbled to himself, struggling to extricate himself from the conversation without causing her insult or aggravation.

They're so easy to toy with. No wonder Pitch enjoys it so much.

"Anyway," he muttered finally, "just keep in mind what I said. Oh, and do you have any preferences for when you wanna take the oath?"

"None at all."

"All right. We'll let North pick, then, since we always do it up at the Pole."

"Why is that?" she asked, genuinely curious.

He shrugged. "He's just better at keeping all those things in order, I guess, the book and what-have-you. Plus he likes officiating."

"Ah."

"We'll let you know," the Pooka said, rapping his foot against the ground to open up a tunnel. "I'll have Frost leave a message with the kids. Fair?"

"I suppose," she said on a sigh. It was better than having somebody show up in Pitch's realm, at any rate.

With a curt nod, the rabbit dropped down into the tunnel. It sealed up behind him, a little red flower appearing the moment the earth closed over his head.

So ridiculous, she thought, eyeing the flower with distaste. "Why do you do that?" she asked of the flower, which sang a rather abrupt—and quite rude—response before turning away from her.

She sighed again. That was precisely why she didn't bother with plants that remained loyal to other spirits. They were always so disrespectful.

With one final glance towards the pond to ensure that Jorge was in good hands, she summoned her vines to carry her home.

Upon arriving in Pitch's realm, her attention was immediately arrested by two things.

First, when she entered their bedchambers she saw from the smooth bedcovers that Pitch was still awake, which was highly unusual for this time of day.

And second, from the moment she'd first entered their home she just couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.

"Pitch?"

With her senses all-but smothered and no plants available to help her, she couldn't quite pinpoint who or what was there in the dark with her. The predicament didn't scare her, for she knew Pitch would never allow any harm to come to her, but she found that unidentifiable presence—and the fact that her love hadn't come out to greet her—as incredibly suspicious.

"Pitch?" she called again. She checked the former throne room, the library, and even her old room. All empty. She was getting aggravated now. "Pitch!"

With a scream, a black shape suddenly sprung from the darkness. Lilliana startled a bit at the noise, but the moment her eyes swung to the source a broad smile broke out onto her face.

"Ebony!" she cried, patting the Nightmare affectionately as it danced around her. A second mare soon emerged, though slower and with a bit more dignity, and her smile only widened. "Onyx!"

"Boo!"

Lilliana lifted her eyes to the vaulted ceiling before fixing her love with a quizzical look. Sharp teeth flashed as he grinned at her, still half-hidden in the shadow from which he'd suddenly appeared.

"Did you really just try to scare me?"

"Did it work?" he asked playfully, stepping out of the gloom and into full view.

"Of course not."

He laughed, amused by her reaction. Ebony nuzzled against her, demanding attention, and the flora spirit gave it gladly, scratching at the mare's mane and ears and rubbing her palm down the black sand of her neck.

"They're beautiful," she exclaimed, thrilled in spite of Pitch's antics. "I didn't know you were able to reshape them already. How did you gather the power so quickly?"

He shrugged casually. "It wasn't that difficult."

Lilliana eyed him with suspicion. "Pitch…"

"What?" he asked innocently. "I kept my word, I didn't do anything unreasonable. In a city that large, a thousand dreams hardly make a dent!"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Okay, a hundred."

One eyebrow went up.

He chuckled at the sight of her. "Please, Lilly, it was only a few," he said reassuringly, wrapping an arm around her to give a gentle squeeze. "I've actually been gathering power for a while. I only kept it a secret so it would be a surprise."

Her expression softened. "That's wonderful, Pitch."

"Mmm." He pulled her into his embrace. "I'm glad you like it," he murmured into her ear.

It was wonderful to have Pitch back to his old self again. Lilliana had truly missed his playfulness these past few weeks, and to see her love finally free of the melancholy that had fettered him was an even better surprise than the Nightmares were.

As they stood in the dark holding each other in affectionate silence, something suddenly interrupted them: a sharp jab in the stomach.

"What was that?" Pitch asked, pulling back instantly to stare down at Lilliana's slightly swollen belly.

She chuckled at the alarm on his face. "That's the baby, Pitch. I told you it was going to start moving soon."

"You did?"

"You must not have been listening," she said with a sigh. She supposed she should've known that, as he hadn't really given her a response at the time, but decided not to comment on the matter. Instead she reached out to him and took his hand, guiding it to her stomach. "Just wait, you'll see."

It took a few minutes, but after a time the child kicked again, right under Pitch's palm. Golden eyes grew very wide at the incredible (and incredibly strange) sensation.

"But it's still so small!" he exclaimed.

"It's a little early," she admitted, struggling to smother the laugh that bubbled up inside of her upon seeing the expression on his face. "To be honest, I cannot tell you if that's because it's a spirit or if our baby's just a freak."

He grinned. "Terror," he corrected, caressing her stomach lovingly. "Definitely a terror."

"I swear if it takes after you I'm going to be so mad."

He threw back his head and laughed. "In that case, I hope it does!"

She rolled her eyes with a groan. "Please, one of you is more than enough."

"You sure about that?" he purred, pulling her close again.

"Yes," she asserted, trying hard to ignore the way his hands had started to smooth up and down her back, sneaking lower and lower with each gentle stroke.

"Positive?"

"Absolutely."

"You sure?" he repeated on a whisper, touching his lips to hers before she could answer.

Their kiss was slow and deep yet incredibly gentle. Lilliana found her free hand snaking around his waist to clutch at his robes and pull him even closer, loving every moment they were together like this.

You're my roots and my sky…I love you so very much…

When the moment finally ended, Pitch lifted his head to stare deep into her eyes. "Come to bed with me?" he murmured, reaching up to stroke his long fingers through her curls.

She sighed contentedly at the incredible care and affection contained within that light touch. With the smallest of nods, she told him, "Of course, Pitch."

His smile was tender as he pulled her back into the shadows with him, returning them to their bedchambers.