A/N: I feel like I'm always apologizing for the delay in posts. Things have been crazy, crazy, crazy recently. I didn't get a chance to respond to everyone's signed reviews yet, but here is the promised chapter!

And here's something fun to look forward to: The next chapter coming up will debut one of our favorite Guardians! :D

Thank you so much for all the reviews I got on the last chapter! Part of me is still surprised that everyone still follows and enjoys this story, even though I started it so long ago and there's a massive amount of chapters. :) So thank you very much! *bows*

This chapter will clear up some of the mystery from the previous one.

Standard disclaimers apply.

*A Beautiful Blindness*

Elsa's mouth popped open into a perfect O. "Of course they can," she said.

Pitch's smile turned to an amused grin. "No, they can't."

She thought back to the last little girl and the way her eyes hadn't stopped as they looked across Pitch, and – and me, she realized, standing behind him. She didn't see me.

No. It can't be true. Elsa made herself think about the other children they'd seen – there had been so many – across the days and weeks. But she couldn't recall a single child actually glancing her way. Even those children on that first night when she went with Pitch – they never saw her.

And the father, she thought, stiffening. When he came in, he didn't look at me. He didn't see me.

"That isn't possible," Elsa said, though her voice betrayed her false confidence by trembling on the last word. "I'm a human. I'm not like you."

Pitch shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I was once a human, as well."

"But that's not the same – "

"Do you know how long it is that you've been with me, Elsa?" Pitch spoke over her.

She hesitated. "A few weeks, I suppose. But that doesn't – "

"Try a few years."

"Years?" Elsa repeated, dumbfounded. "That can't be true. It hasn't felt like I've been gone for that long."

"That's because you're with me."

"But how?"

"There are lots of stories about the eldritch beings of your world, a category that would surely include the Guardians and myself. Many of your conjectures are hilariously wrong, but a few of them are close to the mark." He spread out his hands. "Time passes differently for us, because we are outside the sphere of its control. As creatures of legend, our existence seems timeless, and this effect carries over to those that we take."

Elsa stared at him. "Take?"

"Yes. Into our presence." Pitch smiled, but Elsa knew he was enjoying her reaction to his wordplay.

She shook her head. "But I still don't – "

"Think about it: you vanish from your kingdom without a trace. What becomes of you? To the people of Arendelle, your fate takes the form of a mystery. You turn into conjecture, then a fable, and finally a mere rumor – the same sorts of tales that my reality is built upon."

"Because I'm with you?" she asked slowly.

"Yes, but you've already changed. You now need belief to be seen." He smiled. "Just like me."

She nodded. He was right; her decision to travel with Pitch, no matter her motive, had turned her into someone like him. Now even if she went back to Arendelle, her own sister wouldn't be able to see her. Elsa waited for the pangs of regret or sadness, but they were weaker than she expected.

And yet Elsa had to admit that her new-found obscurity was useful. It was another excuse to stay with Pitch and work with him, to learn his methods and his secrets. Since she was now dependent on children, just like Pitch, it would be wise of her to learn as much as she could before she enacted her plan. She could help the children slowly come to believe in her. It will be slow going, she told herself. It will take time for the children to believe in me, and it will take my hopes for revenge a little further beyond my reach. But I can wait. When I get strong enough, when I get enough belief to make a difference, then I'll betray him.

She refused to acknowledge the piece inside her heart that relaxed at the decision, that was relieved she would be forced to remain with Pitch for a little longer.

The part of her that wanted to stay was bigger than she wanted to admit.

A/N: Dun dun duuun.

There will be more.