Whaaaaat? Another chapter in less than a week? Consider this my making up for being late on uploading chapters as well as an apology that I probably won't get to do another one for a while (sorry! DX). But anyway, I kept going back and forth on whether to split this chapter into 2 smaller chapters or keep it one long chapter, and the long chapter won out! Hope you guys enjoy and, as always, I do not own ROTG, just my OCs

Amberlynn must admit steering the Nightmare was much easier than she expected it to be. Who knew merely threatening to turn it to glass if she didn't take both her and Pitch to Death Valley would result in her getting what she wanted? Ensuring a smooth landing, though, was a different matter.

Amberlynn lost her balance, taking a dive toward the sand, until Pitch instinctively reached his arm out to wrap around the redhead's waist. He quickly pulled her back onto the mare's back to steady her, but received an unintentional elbow to the waist as his reward.

"Oh sweet, celestial heavens, Pitch!" Amberlynn gasped when she realized what she had done. Without further ado she hopped off the mare and helped him off, though with a little less grace. He muttered, "Why on Earth did Onyx-"

"Treatment now, questions later!" Amberlynn ordered while she lit a small fire on the ground between them. "I need the tunic off so I can see the damage we-er, I-put ye through." As she helped him shrug off his tunic, she immediately saw the cause of his immense pain. The entire right side of his abdomen had a slightly pink hue that grew redder and redder right to the source where she originally stitched up the boogeyman.

Mother Nature must have initially popped out Pitch's stitches when she led her full-on attack against him, and the summer spirit was confident all the beatings he had taken since did not help the matter. Not only did every single one of his stitches come undone, revealing the new layer of skin which had begun to heal, but the wound opened up lengthwise, giving Amberlynn all the more for her to stitch this second time around.

Pitch looked upon his injury with disgust, but not for the reason Amberlynn initially thought. He grumbled, "At least we now know what exactly led to the Guardians seeing me at my weakest." Before Amberlynn replied to that remark, she turned to face the Nightmare who still dutifully stood nearby and commanded, "You and yer friends who brought all of the supplies I needed last time? I'll be needin' those again tonight."

As she whipped her head around to face her patient, the summer spirit remarked, "Yer real weakness is yer pride that'll do ye in. In regards to the injury, though, I'm honestly surprised ye held up as well as ye did. I've heard of many men biting the bullet, but more out of necessity rather than pride. Besides the obvious gash, how do ye feel?"

Now that he was out of sight of any other spirits, he lowered his head and slouched (as low as he could without agonizing pain) before he answered, "Honestly, I'm rather irritated Onyx didn't take us straight to my lair. I don't know how or why she came here first, although I suspect you might have something to do with that, my dear. Whether you call it pride or not, I'm infuriated the Guardians saw me in such a weakened state. And I can't quite put a name to this last emotion but if I am to be honest with you, Amberlynn Sommers, it has everything to do with Moth-"

Before Pitch finished that sentence, a small team of Nightmares quickly approached the two, bringing with them all of the supplies that Amberlynn had requested from them the last time she gave him stitches. Amberlynn rolled her eyes at the mares' refusal to step any closer to the fire than they already were, so she stood up and gathered all the supplies from Pitch's cowardly bunch.

"I swear," she muttered. "Ye threaten one time to turn these bunch o'fillies into glass or banish them from existence, and they steer clear of the small fire. Why, this little bugger can barely burn a twig let alone an entire team of Nightmares!"

Pitch lightly chuckled. "Now I know you are the reason Onyx brought us here." As she knelt down next to him, a devious smile played across her face.

"Who would've thought it'd be as easy as it is to bring fear to living embodiments of fear?" she snickered. "Don't worry, yer secret's safe with me that yer team's a bunch of llwfrgi. Besides, fresh air will be good for ye so you're not stuck there with only their pretty little faces to stare at while ye rest." The remaining Nightmares huffed in indignation, but Amberlynn merely laughed at their malcontent.

After she finished stitching up Pitch, Amberlynn's face sombered for a moment and, after hesitating, decided to speak what was on her mind. She looked at Pitch and suggested, "Ye might want to remain lying down. I-I think I can take a guess at that last feeling of yers that ye mentioned earlier. Ye talk in yer sleep a lot and, I never really connected anything until today."

Pitch couldn't figure her out. He couldn't sense any fear coming from the young summer spirit regarding what she was about to bring up, but he also didn't understand why she was so hesitant to say whatever it was she was trying to say.

He raised a curious brow, but before he could ask any questions, Amberlynn asked, "Have you, have you ever wondered where I learned all the things I know? From anatomy to the constellations, to just about anything that's not common spirit knowledge?"

Understanding the direction this was going, but not entirely sure why the change in topic, he nodded. "Yes, Amberlynn, the thought has crossed my mind on multiple occasions."

"G-Gwyn," she coughed out. "Wow, I haven't spoken that name in years. But anyway, that was my mortal name, when I learned all of this. Gwyneth Rhys, to be exact. And I...and I became a spirit in the late summer of 1836."

"Gwyn, where are ye hiding?" A young, spritely woman in her early twenties with sandy brown hair peaked her head into her family's rickety old barn. As she walked inside, passing each stall with an eagle-eye for the missing redhead, she finally encountered her target.

Gwyneth Rhys remained perched on the small loft overhead, sitting in a pile of hay next to a pale, freckly boy with dirty blonde hair and striking green eyes. As she turned her head at the sound of her name, she smiled and called, "Oh hush yer worrying, Caitrin! I'm 19, nearly to be married, and ye still can't stop fussing over my whereabouts. Ye see that, Aeron? Yer mam is always fer the dramatic. If she can't find me right away, I must be hiding from her!" She leaned in and whispered to her nephew, "Although, could ye blame me much if I did?"

Aeron giggled, but Caitrin huffed and objected, "I am not always dramatic! What sort of trouble are ye children causing up there anyway? Ye're not hiding a well up there from us now, are ye?"

"Now give yer chwaer bach a little bit of credit," Gwyn teased as she climbed down the ladder. "If I found a well in this miserable drought, I very well wouldn't hide it up in this smelly old barn of ours. I'd hide it someplace much more friendly to the nose-like the outhouse!"

Caitrin laughed and shook her head at her sister in disbelief. After Gwyneth helped Aeron down, she continued, "In all honesty, I was helping patch him up a bit. That old floorboard got loose again and a nail nearly came clean through his foot! Brave little soldier, though. Nary a tear came out of his eyes. Mam-gu, on the other hand, would have dropped dead from shock if she heard what I heard come out of this young man's mouth when I walked past."

Caitrin looked down at her son, debating whether or not to lash him after finding out this news. Sensing her sister's internal argument, Gwyneth said, "Ah don't ye worry 'bout it. After having a nail this long-" she spread her finger and thumb out almost as far as they could go to emphasize the length of it- "I reckon the boy has earned his free pass to merely repeat words his tad and ewythr use on the daily while out plowing the fields."

After a short staring contest between the sisters, Caitrin sighed and knelt down to examine her son. Still not taking her eyes off him, she replied, "Very well, but when Michael comes over fer supper, have him take a thorough look at Aeron. Heaven knows we can't afford to lose any abled bodies, especially with this unforgiving heat."

"Cait, ye know Michael has taught me everything he knows about medicine," Gwyneth argued. "One of the many reasons I love that man so. Even if it originally was out of necessity more than anything else that he train his nurse more. But I promise everything I did, Michael wouldn't have done any other way."

"That may be, but yer name does not have 'doctor' behind it," Caitrin countered. "Please, just let yer fiance take a look at it before he comes fer supper. Which also reminds me why I went looking fer ye in the first place: Aren't ye supposed to be working right now? Grab a horse and go into town!"

"Thank ye again fer promising to ease Cait's mind about Aeron," Gwyneth told Michael During their afternoon stroll. Most of the patients scheduled for the day had been seen and the two were out for their "supervised" stroll that day. As Gwyn reminded Caitrin of the numerous nights she was in charge of "chaperoning" her and her now-husband while they were courting, she figured Cait owed her one-or several-free passes. True to her word, while Cait technically kept Gwyn and Michael within her sight, the duo were so far ahead that to their chaperone they were barely but a pair of silhouettes in the summer sky.

Michael gently squeezed Gwyn's hand as he replied, "It makes things so much easier when the woman who treats my patient is as good as any doctor I've ever met. Heh, I truly had my foot in my mouth when I refused to believe Dr. Guttenberg about relying on you for help, didn't I?"

"Michael Cook with his foot in his mouth?" Gwyn teased with mock surprise. "Ye mean when ye first barged through his door, fresh out of medical school, ready to take on such an 'uncivilized' town all on yer own? And that the only thing ye'd need a nurse fer is to dust, mop, and stoke the fire?"

Michael blushed a deep shade of scarlet, but he laughed. "And let us not forget the first day immediately after Dr. Guttenberg retired when the men from the saloon crashed their wagon. There was so much blood, pieces of wagon were sticking every which way in our patients, and all except maybe two of them needed to be treated right away!"

"Oh, I remember when you had to swallow yer pride and ask for extra hands, all right!" Gwyneth howled. "I was at the clinic cleaning up when ye lot came bursting in, carting our drunken friends onto as many tables as ye could find. And when I came in the back ye asked, 'How well can ye handle blood and other unsightly things?' Do ye remember what I said to ye?"

By now, Michael doubled over, wrapping his arms around his waist from laughing so hard. "Oh, my love, how could I forget? You told me, 'As far as blood is concerned, I'm looking at this lot right now and am not bothered by it. And as far as 'unsightly things,' I see you on a regular basis, do I not?' Though my stupid brain didn't know it at the time, I am pretty sure that was the moment I fell in love with you, Gwyneth Rhys."

Gwyn blushed, but eagerly wrapped her arms around Michael's neck as he leaned forward to kiss her, placing his hands around her waist. Separating from her face by mere centimeters, he said, "You actually could do it, you know. You have more than enough skills for it."

"I'm not sure to what ye're referring, but I do enjoy where this is going," Gwyn replied with a devious smile. Despite Michael fighting to hide his smile and his dark crimson blush growing across his face, he physically separated himself from her and sat her down on the grass.

"As much as I rather prefer where your mind went over mine," he replied, "I was talking about medical school. You're a brilliant student, you already know more material than many students near matriculation, and you even have the enviable quick, steady hands of any surgeon or barber I ever knew!"

Gwyneth nervously laughed, unsure of what to make of this recommendation. She asked, "Is this in jest? The thought of a woman doctor! Oh, Michael, ye certainly know how to make me laugh, that's fer sure!"

When her fiance didn't reciprocate in her humor, Gwyneth laid back in the grass in silence for a moment, thinking over what he had said.

"Huh, a female doctor," she wondered. "I mean, I have learned more than I ever thought I would learn, between you and Dr. Guttenberg. And this town being as prone to nearly-fatal incidents as we seem to be certainly helps all of us learn rather quickly. But I don't know, Michael. I think that barbaric governor riding on his holier-than-thou horse would sooner prohibit slavery in Missouri than accept a woman doctor to practice here. I think Orion up in the night sky would literally drop his belt from the celestial heavens before a woman doctor is accepted."

Michael raised his arms in surrender. As he stood up he replied, "If you truly feel that way, I won't push you, love. Who knows? The world is changing remarkably fast. Anything is possible here, right?"

Accepting the hand Michael held out, Gwyn stood next to him and replied, "Ye're right. Anything is possible. And man will one day learn to fly, as well. I'll tell ye what. The day any of those things happen, whichever comes first, I will even start wearing breeches."

"I'm not entirely sure the world could handle two major incidents happening at once," Michael teased. "A woman wearing breeches? Now look who's using her imagination."

Before they embraced again, Gwyneth heard the sound of harsh panting and hooves stomping on the dry, dead grass. Before Caitrin even made her way completely over to them, she gasped, "Fire! At the barn! Come quick! People are inside!"

Gwyn and Michael ran as quickly as they could to their horses to ride back and help. The flames engulfed the entire roof of the barn, sending a horde of smoke to the sky. How she and Michael didn't notice it before, she'll never know. Just in case the unbearable late-summer drought wasn't enough, the heat radiating from the flames made Gwyn miss the much more tolerable hot and humid days before this drought. Amid all the panic of the adults scrambling, trying to free as many barn animals and salvage what they could, she rounded up all the children she could find to begin to count heads with Caitrin.

"I see Delia, Arthfael, Emyr, Tegan, Adara, and...where's Aeron?" Cait squeaked. Caitrin tried screaming for her son's name, but she heard no answer back. At first Gwyn thought she misheard, but after listening again, she knew for certain that she still heard a voice in the barn.

"Aeron!" Gwyn screamed. She began to run, but Caitrin grabbed onto her younger sister's arm. "I know ye are tryin' to help," she shouted against the roar of the fire, "but he is my son! I need to go after him!"

"Not while ye're pregnant, ye don't," Gwyneth shouted back. "I can count, Cait. Ye're nearly four months late! Take care of yer child that's here. I will go get Aeron! Ye need to keep this family together, keep the little ones safe!"

Using the apron of her skirt to prevent the smoke from getting into her eyes, she bolted as quickly as she could into the barn, hearing only a delayed reaction of protest from her fiance once he saw what she was doing. "GWYNETH, NO!" he screamed, but she was already inside.

"Sweet celestial heavens, it's hot in here! Aeron, where are ye?" Gwyn called out. The apron was next to useless in preventing her from breathing the thick smoke, the heat and smoke combination stung her eyes, and she was just about to doubt whether she truly even heard her nephew cry until she definitely heard him crying, "Help me, Aunt Gwyn! I'm scared!"

Whether it was a curse or a miracle, she didn't know, but the ladder hadn't burned up yet, so she climbed to the loft where she heard his voice. He was by the shutters, trying to open it but struggling between the heat and coughing fits he was enduring. After seeing Gwyn, he stopped for a second and ran to her, clinging to her waist.

"Don't let me die, Aunt Gwyn," he cried. "I didn't say goodbye to Mam or Tad." She hugged him fiercely and promised, "You are not going to die, Aeron. You will see yer parents tonight, love." Quickly untying her apron, she gave it to him to try to breathe through as she brought him to the edge of the loft where the ladder was-emphasis on the "was." How one lick of a flame managed to fall exactly where the ladder stood so that it would get engulfed in flames, Gwyneth will never know. Running with Aeron back to the shutters, she quickly laid on her back by them long enough to kick them open.

"We're up here!" Gwyneth screeched loudly enough she knew everyone could hear. Before she heard a reply from anyone, she wrapped Aeron completely around in her skirt as her back faced the open shutter. "I love ye, Aeron Geddings. Take care of yer Mam and siblings fer me," she whispered before she threw both of them out of the barn, with her back going down first.

Amberlynn couldn't remember hearing such a beautiful voice ever in her life before. Wait a minute, has she always called herself Amberlynn?

"My beautiful, selfless child," the voice called from the sky. No, not the sky, but the Sun. "You certainly are a fast one, that will be an important trait for you to keep. Amberlynn Sommers, Daughter of the Sun, you have been given a wonderful gift. A chance to help all humans, just as you selflessly rescued your nephew not too long ago.

"You are now my summer spirit. I grant you the gift of warmth, fire, light, and most importantly, soon your memories." Her memories? What memories could she have possibly lost and why was she getting them back immediately after losing them? That seemed rather counterproductive to Amberlynn.

"Because I am certain your death and coming to as a new spirit are quite a shock and unnerving," the Sun continued (almost like she could read Amberlynn's mind), "you will be under the guidance of Mother Nature. As a seasonal spirit, she is to whom you shall turn, as you are one of her many aides. But be aware: though I shall soon restore your memories, not all spirits are given the same fortunate gift. Some may not know who they once were as mortals while some do not wish to know. Given the nature of your gift, for both the potential of good and evil, I feel you will be able to judge best how to use your gift with your memories. Remember I do not give them back to punish you as a reminder of what has been lost, but rather to help guide you to find what you may gain. Farewell, Amberlynn Sommers."

"After the Sun told me who I was but before I regained my memories," Amberlynn explained, "I couldn't possibly imagine how remembering who I once was could be a punishment. But then, they all flooded back at once. First traveling to the United States, helping my mother as she gave birth to each of my younger brothers and sisters, first meeting my then-fiance, being proposed to...everything right down to the moment that led to my becoming Amberlynn Sommers."

While Pitch was lying on his side, Amberlynn was seated with her arms wrapped around her knees, hugging them close together. While she stared up at the sky, searching the constellations as if for an answer, it did not escape the King of Nightmare's attention that tears started to roll down her face. He held out an arm, beckoning her to be closer to him.

Wiping away the tears she didn't realize Pitch noticed, she dubiously asked, "Didn't I just patch you up a few minutes ago?" He shrugged and replied, "Then I recommend you don't elbow me, my dear. It hurts more to see you like this. I'm here for you."

Amberlynn shook her head and chuckled at his suggestion, but still let herself rest beside him. After she tucked all her hair under her neck to use as a makeshift pillow, Pitch brought his arm over her waist, holding her close.

"Do you know what the worst part was about my restored memories?" she asked. Feeling her slightly tremble, Pitch held her tighter.

"Seeing my family right after the fact. To this day I still don't know if I made the right choice to see them as soon as my memories were restored, but there's no changing the past now, is there? By the time I got the hang of flying and made it back to them, they were in the middle of my funeral. Now there's something ye don't expect to do, seeing yer own funeral. I will never forget the look on any of their faces...Michael, Cait, Mam...or Tad."

Pitch stiffened. Amberlynn adjusted her body slightly so her back was against the sand and she could look up at him. Her charcoal grey eyes stared into Pitch's-which were at the moment mainly golden with specks of silver, Amberlynn noted. But as Pitch looked at her, he didn't see any accusation or resentment, but rather love...so much love with a hint of sadness behind them, he wasn't sure what to make of such raw, vulnerable emotion being directed toward him.

"You can say whatever you want about yourself," Amberlynn stated. "You may choose to believe the rumors other spirits spread about you. You can even act to others like you're some heartless monster. I won't even say a word otherwise unless you expressly wish it, as what I saw is something I'm sure even I wasn't meant to see."

Amberlynn raised a hand to cup Pitch's face, locking eyes with him. "But I saw the look ye gave Mother Nature back at Toothiana's palace. It was the exact same look my father had at my funeral I knew I'd never forget. It's the look of a heartbroken man who lost a child. That's that last emotion ye couldn't quite find the words for, wasn't it?"

Pitch grabbed hold of Amberlynn's free hand and closed his eyes, gently kissing the back of her hand that he held. "How do you do this, Amberlynn Sommers?" he asked. "In a chance encounter, you accidentally figure out my biggest secret-one I don't think even Sandman knows-and rather than use that knowledge to your advantage or even pretend you didn't learn of it, you so openly and freely share your own life story with me...just to let me know that you understood what you so recently discovered? I didn't think it was possible for me to fall even more in love with you."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he heard a faint but audible gasp from the summer spirit. Amberlynn bit her lower lip and her cheeks flushed a dark red before she stammered, "You...you're in love with me?"

He took a deep breath and, with a genuine smile on his face, replied, "I am. Amberlynn Sommers, I love you-" He was cut short when the redhead wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss. When the two broke apart for a moment, she whispered, "I love you too, Pitch Black."

Pitch couldn't believe his ears. Never in his millennia of existing on this planet has he ever thought for a second he could either attain or even deserve this kind of happiness he felt at this moment in time. For the first time since...well, he honestly couldn't remember, but for the first time in a long while he felt like a whole new person. His heart was racing, his head was spinning, and for the first time he truly understood the mortals' phrase "butterflies in your stomach." And yet, for whatever reason, he couldn't wipe that stupid smile off his face. He couldn't even remember a time before Amberlynn where any of his smiles were truly from pure happiness rather than from mockery or masking cynicism.

He knew what he had to do next. Every fiber in his core as the Nightmare King fought it, internally screaming that it was a sign of weakness. He knew what his dark instincts were telling him to do: take all the pleasures, both emotional and physical, and keep it for himself. And yet, something inside of him also fought back against those dark feelings and, for whatever reason won over the dark.

Separating himself from the summer spirit, but still keeping her close, he said, "You told your story, Amberlynn. But now it is time that you know mine. The full story of the once-great Kozmotis Pitchiner of the Golden Age."

Ahhhh this chapter was so much fun to write! I was debating how in-depth to go (and still am, if I'm being honest) on Amberlynn's backstory from her time as Gwyneth Rhys. But anyway, hope you guys enjoyed and here are some of the Welsh terms I used in this chapter:

Llwfrgi-cowards

Chwaer bach-little sister

Mam-gu-grandma

Tad-father

Ewyther-uncles

Mam-mother