A/N: What's up, friends, happy Friday! This one is a little shorter than they've been, but we're going to be getting into some long ones pretty soon. Hope you enjoy it, let me know! Also the last of my chunk of chapters named after The Chain lyrics, I have to actually come up with chapter names again next week.

His mouth wouldn't make the words.

Chapter Twenty-One: Damn the Dark, Damn the Light

Jack woke with a start when a sudden, urgent knocking came at his door. His heart slammed at his ribcage and he looked around wildly, trying to establish where exactly he was and what was happening.

It was dark, but the clock on the mantel (shaped like the full moon and illuminated as such) indicated that it was early morning. He was still in his cabin. He had been so weary, so exhausted after yesterday, that he had passed out early and heavily.

The knocking came again. Either the new doorknob was working or whoever was visiting hadn't even bothered to try it.

"Jack?" came a voice from the other side.

Euterpe. He hadn't spoken to her properly since the wedding. How was it only two days ago?

Usually, she only came by for casual visits. But she was knocking so forcefully, at such an odd hour, that he doubted this was another coffee outing. He stumbled out of bed, still trying to find his bearings.

"One second," he rasped before realizing that there was no way she would have heard that. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Hold on!"

He found his staff and prompted it to cast a faint blue light so that he could properly walk about the cabin without crashing into anything. When he reached the door, he hit a nearby light switch.

He wasn't sure how, but North had rigged one of his magical fireplaces to the switch, along with a few magically-modified oil lamps. The lighting wasn't particularly bright, but it was cozy, and it worked well enough for Jack's purposes.

The magic at least meant he didn't need to fumble with matches, replace firewood or oil, or worry about burning his base to the ground.

He pulled the door open, finding that the new hinges didn't squeak as he had come to expect from the old ones.

He also found that Euterpe did have coffee.

The youngest muse held out one of the iced coffees in her hands to him. "I'm sorry, I thought I might wake you, but we have to talk before the sun comes up."

Jack took the plastic cup, the condensation on the outside frosting over immediately. Though his brow was furrowed, he stepped aside to let her in.

He had barely closed the door behind her before she was tugging closed the drapes.

"What happened?" he asked before curiously taking a sip of the coffee. Rowan had always made hot coffee, which was only cold when he drank it because he was, well, him.

It turned out that coffee that was brewed with the intention of being cold tasted better. Hot coffee, cooled by his touch and from a ceramic mug, though, would probably always be a strange favorite of his.

"A lot," Euterpe said, settling down at a small table that Tooth had insisted he should have. He didn't see the point, actively resisting most additional pieces of furniture in his cabin, but it seemed to be useful now. He took a seat as well, quickly taking the discarded paper airplane there and tucking it into his pocket.

Euterpe carried on, "We're tracking down each of you at night so we can fill you in without Apollo knowing that we're talking. We don't want to seem like we're scheming so soon after he met with you. And the moon is still waning so we should be flying under Tsar Lunar and Artemis' radar now, too. If any of them ask, this conversation never happened."

"Off to a great start," Jack said. Somehow things were about to get more complicated and he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"I know," Euterpe sighed. "We all discussed it, we voted and, well, we don't want to be associated with Apollo or Artemis. We're breaking away from both of them."

Jack raised a brow. "Can you, uh, do that?"

Euterpe shrugged. "We're going to give it our best shot. But this is where it gets… complicated. Or, more complicated, I guess. We can't just tell both of them to take a hike. For one thing, if we piss off Apollo and Rowan gets revived, he won't let any of us, Muse or Guardian, anywhere near her."

Jack hadn't considered that. Apollo was so focused on using the possibility of Rowan's return against Jack that the idea that she could return only to be snatched away immediately hadn't even been entertained. His gaze darkened at the thought.

"And with Artemis, she's already leaked information to the Shadow People before and she's already turned potential allies against us. She's got to be mad about the wedding, the whole thing happened because she wanted us to break away from the Guardians," Euterpe continued. "Neither of them are exactly gracious losers. So, our best option is to convince them both that they've won, at least for now."

Jack took a long drink of his coffee, for it was much too early for all of this. "And you do that by…?"

"We tell Apollo that we've chosen him, we declare our loyalty to him and make sure he's happy with us and has his guard down at least long enough for Rowan's anniversary to pass, just in case. And that should make him happy with you, too," Euterpe said. "But we also tell Artemis that it's all a front to make sure we get Rowan away safely, and that we plan to join her as soon that day passes. In reality, once we get there, we'll be denouncing both of them."

"And you guys aren't concerned about them figuring it out?" Jack asked. It seemed that the more he learned about Artemis, the more she seemed to be secretly involved with, only revealing what she knew when it served her best. And Apollo, well, he already knew more than Jack would like him to.

They each had a lot of allies, they each seemed to keep careful (if distant) tabs on the Muses.

He wasn't so sure about a plan that involved tricking them both.

Things had started getting complicated like this when they were trying to sort out how to eliminate as many of the Shadow People as they could. While that had mostly worked out as planned, well…

There were casualties.

"We're very concerned," Euterpe assured him, wincing slightly. "And we're concerned that if Pitch makes a move before that day, that it might be too risky to actually break away from Apollo and his allies. We might end up stuck anyway."

Jack nodded and for a moment they were silent, each taking a moment to drink from their respective coffees.

Part of him wanted to ask why they would bother, if it might be for nothing anyway. But Jack wasn't exactly a fan of Apollo, and he supposed he would take a chance like this if it meant he wouldn't have to answer to him.

Maybe it wasn't actually so bad that Manny rarely spoke to the Guardians. Or to Jack, at least.

"Honestly," Euterpe said, as though reading his mind, "I don't know if we'll ever collectively have the nerve to leave again. I think this is our only shot and we have to try. I kind of want to know how things would be without him, even if we end up crawling right back. It's risky, though, he can't find out."

"Then why are you telling me?" Jack asked, genuinely curious. Surely the Guardians would have far more authentic reactions to the whole thing if they weren't in on it. The more people knew, the better the chances of something slipping through the cracks.

"We had to let you all know so that you wouldn't question our loyalties or the alliance when we leave Apollo."

"I mean that was the whole point of the wedding, right? That the Guardians and the Muses are allies regardless," Jack said.

"Yes, and while Calliope loves symbolism, she still wanted to touch base and be sure everyone was on the same page. Thus, me knocking on your door at the witching hour."

"Well, thanks for at least bringing coffee." He raised the cup to her as though for cheers.

"De nada," Euterpe shrugged. "Gave me an excuse to grab an extra portal and try another place on my list."

"You have a list of coffee places?" Jack asked, wiping frost away from the cup so that he could properly examine it to see if there was a logo. Instead, there was only scribbled permanent marker with shorthand he didn't understand.

"Sometimes Cori and I will find a library so we can… what do the mortals call it again? Surf the internet? I don't feel like I've heard that in a little while."

"I'm not sure. Slang goes out of style so quickly. Every time I find one I like, it's old news," Jack sighed. "Why did they ever stop saying that they've 'got the morbs?'"

"Sometimes I remember that no one calls anyone a 'hell-born babe' anymore and I get a little disappointed every time," Euterpe said.

"That would be a good—" Jack started.

Euterpe's eyes lit up, "Band name?"

Jack couldn't help his slight laugh. "Exactly."

"I already called dibs," she said.

"Ah, there go my rock star dreams," he said in mock disappointment. He didn't even play an instrument. "But you would surf the internet and…?"

"Right! I found a blog a few years ago where this guy documented his travels around the country trying coffee," Euterpe explained. "And I thought, 'I have time, I like coffee.' So, I have a list of places to try. I don't usually get around to them that quickly, though, so sometimes I get to a place on my list and they're not open anymore. I guess there's some way you can get the internet to tell you if a business is still open, but I don't know how."

"Rowan would know, she always—" Jack stopped short. He frowned, eying the coffee again.

Euterpe smiled at him gently. "It's weird when they come up and you didn't expect it, huh?"

He nodded, willing to admit at least that much. "I don't know how it keeps taking me by surprise."

"Everything lately has at least a little bit to do with her," Euterpe said. "Even if we weren't having issues with Pitch and Apollo that directly involved her, she'd come up."

"It's everything, though, even things that had nothing to do with her," Jack said, frustrated. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Well, sure it does," Euterpe said. "You're not just mourning her, you're mourning everything you couldn't have."

It felt obvious now that Euterpe had said it so plainly.

Jack didn't know what to say, simply nodding again.

They each filled the following silence with sips of coffee. Euterpe shook her cup slightly, sending the ice in circles around the bottom to mix the flavoring that had settled there.

"I suppose I'll head out," she said after a short moment.

"Thanks again for the coffee," Jack said. "Sorry I wasn't better company."

Euterpe stood to let herself out and smiled. "You're fine. After all, we all get the morbs every now and again."

The days were still long at the north pole, and rather than wait for nightfall, Erato asked North to help her with a crooked picture frame in her bedroom, where her thick curtains would block out the light and any prying eyes.

North knew this was an excuse immediately. This was fair, as it wasn't a particularly good excuse.

Yes, Erato had paintings and photographs hanging in the guest room she had moved into, but they had been hung carefully, and with the help of Steve, one of the yetis. Steve was meticulous about decorations of all kinds, having properly spaced and leveled all of the frames to perfection.

Steve had insisted on this, practically materializing from thin air when Erato had mentioned wanting to put up a few things on the walls if North would allow it.

Quite simply, if anything had gone askew on Erato's wall, Steve would be the first to know about it. The yeti would have arrived with a ruler and level before Erato could even dream of adjusting the frame on her own, much less ask North about it.

Besides all of that, Erato was tall and able-bodied. She could very well reach all of the frames on her own. There was no reason to ask for anyone's help with them.

All of this, right after a long meeting with her sisters? North couldn't hide the skepticism on his face, but agreed nonetheless.

A few of the yetis, who had heard this request, waggled their bushy eyebrows at North as they passed. North, feeling the heat rush to his face, reminded them that they should be working.

No, no, Erato couldn't be inviting him to her room for anything worth eyebrow-waggling, that much he was sure of.

He was correct.

Erato had barely shut her door behind him, her curtains drawn and the fireplace casting everything in a warm glow, before diving into an explanation of the Muses' plan. North settled into an armchair, listening carefully.

Erato paced as she spoke, and made gestures with her hands: still covered in her usual, elbow-length gloves. North was sure she was finally finished when her hands rested on her hips and she watched him expectantly for a response.

"This is risky," North said.

"Everything lately is," Erato agreed. "But honestly, I've had one foot out the door since Apollo attacked Cupid."

North nodded. "And Artemis put him in harm's way the night he saved Jack from the Shadow People."

"Exactly," Erato said.

"What happens when they both learn they have lost?"

Erato forced a smile. "Chaos."

North nodded again.

"I'll move out before Rowan's anniversary," the Muse continued. "So they don't come looking for me here and get you more caught up than you need to be."

"Oh," North said, unable to hide the surprise in his tone. He cleared his throat. "Oh. I did not realize that—I mean—I suppose, if it is what you wish, I will assist."

"Why, Nicky, are you going to miss me?" Erato teased.

"Hmm," North said, managing to smile. There was no point in pretending otherwise, he supposed. "I enjoy your company."

"I love it here," she said, setting a gentle hand to his arm. With him seated, they were just about at eye level. "But anything close to us will be vulnerable."

"I can handle Apollo. Artemis, too."

"I know you can. But you shouldn't have to just because I moved in. You've gone to a lot of trouble to house stray Muses the past year as it is."

"Is no trouble," North insisted.

Her back was to the fire, her form outlined in the warm light, her gaze soft upon him. He wanted to ask her to stay.

No, not ask, he would insist that she stay. He would tell her that she was not a guest, she was a resident at the pole and he would not let her leave under such ridiculous circumstances.

His mouth wouldn't make the words.

Perhaps it was nerves.

Perhaps he knew that Erato had this effect on people.

He had seen many before him, falling at her feet and hoping, praying that she would be theirs. How foolish would he have to be, to do the same?

"I can help you move after Christmas," he said. "Have about one month window between then and Rowan's anniversary."

It wasn't asking her to stay, but it bought him a few more months. He felt foolish for wanting that extra time.

Erato nodded. "That's fair. I want to see how you all do Christmas anyway."

The fact that she had agreed to stay a few more months made North's heart swell. Was this how everyone was around Erato? Desperate to keep her around, heart busting with glee? Her powers were stronger than he realized.

How did anyone get anything done around her?

Jack couldn't sleep after Euterpe left, having set his hand in his pocket only to find the paper airplane that he had put there for safe keeping. It was a bit bent and crumpled now, but there was no reason he shouldn't be able to read what was inside.

He was right back to square one, with no more confessions to the Guardians to use as an excuse not to read the message. He was half ready to just fly out the window and cause a blizzard somewhere with no concern for the season just to buy himself some more time.

But how much time did he need? How long would it take pretending that the message didn't exist before he forgot about it for real? Would he ever forget, or would he agonize over it each time he saw a child that might be able to see him?

How pathetic. Scared to read a letter from a kid! Some Guardian you are!

If the others could see him now, surely this would convince them that he wasn't cut out for this. Maybe he was always supposed to be something like a temp, just an extra hand to help deal with Pitch before sending him on his way.

Pitch. The Boogeyman was probably cackling right this moment over the fact that Jack Frost was left paralyzed in fear by a letter.

The idea that Pitch might be getting stronger over this seemed to be the nudge Jack needed.

He took a deep breath and unfolded the paper.