Arc: Hello readers! I'm HeavensLuminousArc. :D -flails arms around-

MP: And me, your friendly neighbourhood Pipefox ;)

Arc: So what am I doing here? I'm here becaaaauusee~!

MP: WE DID A COLAB AAAAAAAAAA *incoherent screaming*

Arc: -Sets a party popper on fire- ... I think I did this wrong. -part popper explodes and confettii is scattered- Oh, never mind :3

MP: Enjoy~

Arc: HeavensLuminousArc and MugetsuPipefox do not claim ownership over "Rise of the Guardians" in any way. It is the property of Dreamworks. Please support the official release~! Enjoy the show~!

...

Of Blue Ink and Eyebrows

...

Pitch was sleeping.

Jack blinked and ran the thought through his head again.

Pitch was sleeping.

Pitch was sleeping.

Pitch was sleeping.

Since when did Pitch sleep? He was eternal nightmares and fear, a creature of the night. And here he was, sitting with his head on a funny angle in his armchair in the library, book still open in his lap. Asleep. And was that a little bit of drool dribbling down his chin?

The winter spirit snorted.

It was so absurd that it almost made him Black. The King of Nightmares. The thing that went bump in the night. The monster in the closet. The being that haunted children's dreams. And here he was, sleeping like a normal person.

Jack smiled and tiptoed closer to the sleeping figure.

So the Great Nightmare King has his nap time, too, huh? he felt his lips curl into an involunatry smirk, 'I wonder if he has dreams.'

He looked so peaceful, like the daily frustration that was his life (most of which may or may not have been partially Jack's fault) had never even existed in the first place. Such a lax expression seemed almost out of place on such a creature's face.

Jack poked the shadow's face cautiously and took a step back, covering his mouth to muffle a snicker. Pitch scrunched up his nose and mumbled incoherently before shifting. Jack waited for the sleeping man to settle again before he approached once more.

There was something... off. Jack couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. His white hair bounced as he tilted his head and observed Pitch's face. Eyes? Check. Nose and mouth? Again, check. Then what was...?

Oh.

That's what it was.

Pitch had no eyebrows.

Well, we're just going to have to fix this aren't we? he thought, already conjuring a devious plan.

Now, where could one obtain a permanent marker?

...

...

Pitch blinked blearily as he returned to consciousness. He stretched and felt a satisfying 'pop' while his eyes returned focus. Dazed, he gazed around the room. For a disorientating moment he didn't know where he was. But then he spotted the book, still open to the page he'd left it. Ah, he must have fallen asleep, then.

A soft whinny from the side of the room made him turn. A pair of nightmares neighed at each other, glancing at him occasionally. They nudged each other and flicked their ears.

"Tell me what?" Pitch asked, eyes narrowed, as he interpreted their mutterings. The two Nightmares seemed to be arguing over who would inform him of... something. They bickered over whether they should even tell him at all.

He found it all highly suspicious.

"Either you tell me right now or I'll turn the pair of you into hourglasses," he threatened.

The horses made a high pitched noise, telling him it was nothing, before running down the hall. Pitch didn't buy it for a second. Something was up and he was going to find out what if it was the last thing he ever did.

He stood from his chair with a sweep of his robes, stalking towards the doorway with his book tucked under his arm. The floor crunched beneath his feet.

Wait. Crunched?

He glanced down and glared hard at the melting patch of frost covering the floor in front of his door. The doorknob was coated with more ice. He sighed. That could only mean one thing.

Jack Frost had been there.

He had known the boy for hardly a year or two - longer if you counted the yearly party on Halloween - but he'd learned that where there was frost, Jack Frost would be nearby. And where there was Frost, there was trouble.

And then he realised something else. Something worse.

Jack Frost had been there while he'd been sleeping.

Biting back a curse, Pitch pinched the bridge of his nose. He marched down the hall, careful to avoid the patches of melting ice coating the floor and wall.

Forcefully shoving open the door of a room he knew Nightmares to be loitering in, he shouted, "Somebody get me a mirror!"

The nightmares stood frozen (luckily not literally) as they took in the sight of their master. There was a mixture of nickers and snorts, avoided glances, and blatant confusion.

"Get me a mirror!" he repeated and the horses took off in a frenzy. Pitch sighed through his nose and waited. A few of his minions returned empty handed (hooved?) and choose to wait for their sisters, knowing they wouldn't find one.

After five minutes of pacing and cursing the Guardian of Fun, a quarter of a dozen horses returned, led by his trusted favourite, Onyx, who held a good sized mirror shard in her maw.

Hesitantly, she trotted over to him while her companions backed off and hid in the crowd of waiting Nightmares.

"It's about time," Pitch snapped, snatching it from her. She whinnied and back-tracked.

Catching the minimal light in a way that would allow him to see his reflection, Pitch held the shard in front of his face. He immediately knew what was wrong. And, really, all he wanted to do was kill something.

Preferably a certain winter spirit.

...

...

Jack sneezed loudly, derailing North's fascinating explanation about the perfect degree of curling for Christmas ribbons.

"Bless you."

Tooth fluttered over, concerned, "Are you alright, Jack?" She inched closer and forced his mouth open, looking at his teeth, "Are you sick? Do you have a cavity?"

"Calm down, shiela," Bunny rolled his eyes. "He's a winter spirit. I doubt he can even catch a cold."

"Tell that to his pneumonia that one time," she countered, rounding on him.

"I'm fine, guys," Jack laughed. How did that saying go? 'You sneeze when someone's talking about you behind your back'? He gripped the blue permanent marker in his pocket. Yeah, something like that. "It was just a one-off sneeze. I'm not sick."

Jack couldn't wait for their next battle with the Nightmare King. That is, if the marker hadn't faded by then.

Just a heads up, guys: Arc and I'll be doing a bunch of other colabs, but not just for RotG (although we're planning a RotG/SU one ;)) - there's a bunch of Miraculous: Ladybug ones, too, if you're interested :3 For more info, see my or Arc's profile page! (bulletins will be posted when new fics are done)

Arc: Bye readers :D

Guest Review Responses:

NorthernMage: Laziness is a good quality don't let anyone tell you otherwise :P That's what I hear. Poor thing :(