Amberlynn's head began to throb, so she reached both hands up toward her head, only to find a scratchy, woolen blanket on top of it. He remembered, she thought with a smile but quickly frowned. But that must mean...oh great. My nightmare wasn't a nightmare at all, was it?
The slightly cooler feeling against her arms also further reminded her of her clear instructions to Pitch. She wasn't complaining, though, because by the weight of the blankets on top of her, she knew Pitch made sure to stack only the warmest, heaviest blankets on top of her naked, hypothermic body.
She turned her head to see Pitch in a position she was confident Pitch saw her in when they had swapped roles...all because back then he'd rather cause a rampage to get his butt kicked by the Guardians over admitting any romantic feelings toward her. The thought of that time which seemed so long ago made her chuckle, alerting Pitch of her conscious state.
His head popped up from its pseudo-conscious daze and he immediately jumped out of the chaise that remained next to the bed she was in, setting himself next to her. Placing the back of his hand against her cheek, he softly smiled and said, "Well, you're finally warmer than I once again. How do you feel, love?"
"A little bit - why does my voice sound like this?" she asked, annoyed that her voice squeaked. Pitch shrugged and answered, "The exact details of that don't matter right now. I will fill you in on everything that you've been through when you are fully rested and healed. But for what it's worth you do sound remarkably better than the last time I heard your voice."
Amberlynn almost didn't want to, but regardless, asked, "And...when exactly what the last time you heard that?"
"About five weeks ago," he admitted. When you were still in that godforsaken ice cage he thought, but did not dare say aloud yet. "I've prepared some tea for you, love. I wasn't sure myself what would be best for when you finally fully regained consciousness, but Mother Nature provided a collection of the best healing herbals. It's not too terribly hot, but it should be enough to help warm you up from the inside."
After Amberlynn let Pitch prop her head up a bit, she brought her pale arms back out from under the covers long enough to take a drink of the calm, warm, soothing tea. While she knew the hoarseness would still take time to go away, the dry, cracked feeling in her throat was immensely relieved. "To answer your last question, I feel much better after that," she admitted, "thank you, Pitch. Although, you wouldn't happen to have some fresh clothes for me, would you?"
Pitch brought a stack of clothes over to the edge of the bed and said, "I wasn't sure what you would want, so I had Onyx and Amadeus retrieve everything of yours those fillies could bring back. Are you okay that you should be getting up on your own?"
"I'm stiff and sore, obviously," she lightly chuckled, "but I think I can handle changing into some sweats and a shirt on my own. Now, if ye don't mind giving me a minute?" He lightly kissed the top of her head and replied, "Of course, my love," before walking out of his bedchambers, closing the door behind him.
Amberlynn carefully took each blanket and comforter off her lap, quietly wincing with each sudden movement of her joints. The hypothermia clearly long gone, she knew she would need further self-evaluation at some point to decide the extent of the damage she incurred at her prison. But for now she settled on just a quick once-over.
Putting forth a little extra concentration, and some slight hesitation, she balled her hand into a fist before opening it, emitting a baseball-sized flame. Just like riding a bike, she thought to herself. She slowly enlarged the fire until it was large enough that she could get a better view of her battered body...and boy did she almost immediately regret that.
While the worst of her bruises had begun to fade, there wasn't a single limb on her that wasn't covered in various shades of purple, red, and brown. Though she couldn't see it, she gently brushed her fingers against her back, vividly remembering how Lynx had ripped her frozen coat off her back. She lightly yelped, but quickly covered her mouth to not alert Pitch and have him come barging in here full of worry. Not to her surprise, the wounds she felt were still warm and slightly raw, which she had to remind herself that spirits do heal slower than most mortals appeared to.
Somewhat satisfied that she at least had an idea of what other challenges lie ahead for her, she threw on a pair of sweatpants before grabbing a loose-fitting shirt. As she threw the shirt over her head, she couldn't believe how she didn't realize or remember it before. She reached both hands to the top of her head, grabbing small tufts of what little hair was left on her head.
She knew it was silly to feel such a loss, after all it was only hair. But that didn't stop tears from rolling down her face, the saltwater stinging what few open wounds had yet to heal.
With scary-precise timing, Pitch ran through the door to see his beloved curled up with one arm squeezing her knees as closely to her chest as possible. The other was raised up to her head as her free hand ran through her hair. Any other person, mortal or otherwise, would not have noticed, but the King of Nightmare's keen sense of vision, especially in the dark, did not overlook the red, tear-stained streaks running down Amberlynn's face as her body lightly shook. He knew, however, that this time the shaking was not from hypothermia.
Pitch walked over to Amberlynn, who had not yet registered his presence, and gently knelt down beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jolt back to reality. After registering for a moment who was beside her, she flung her arms around him and sobbed, "I'm sorry, Pitch. I can't - I can't get them out of my head! My fears must be screamin' at ye like a bloody banshee right about now."
"You certainly had the Nightmares agitated tonight, that's for sure," Pitch admitted with a casual shrug as she sent dagger eyes his direction. "Don't worry, love, I sent them halfway across the continent for tonight. You've been through enough, the last thing you need is their constant presence."
Pitch gently scooped the summer spirit into his arms and carried her back to the bed, where he grabbed hold of one of the heavy wool blankets, and wrapped it around Amberlynn's shoulders. Without saying another word, he lied down beside her, protectively wrapping his arms around her as she let her head rest on his chest.
Unsure of where to even begin to talk to Pitch about everything, she stammered, "Do ye...do ye remember the very first time Mother Nature ordered me to set that forest in Australia ablaze? Do ye remember the fears I had and how they became reality for me that night?"
Pitch didn't verbally respond, but wrapped his arms more tightly around Amberlynn and kissed the top of her head. Amberlynn continued, "The worst part about this entire thing is, not even my wildest fears imagined me being capable of what I just did to him." Pitch didn't need clarification for who the "him" was that Amberlynn meant.
New tears formed in the summer spirit's eyes as she choked, "I never meant...I killed a man, Pitch! I wasn't even aiming fer him...I was trying to melt the icicle he...the ice he intended to use to hurt Jack."
"Shh, my love," Pitch cooed. Sensing her current fear, he reassured her, "You are not a killer, Amberlynn Sommers." He slowly sat both of them upright as he cupped her face and turned it to face him. "You said it yourself, love. You were aiming for the ice, not him! You're a hero! What I don't understand is, how were you able to defeat him when he had cut your hair?"
Amberlynn shrugged before wrapping herself back in Pitch's embrace. "Lynx didn't understand either me or my powers. He thought cutting my hair would rid me of them - almost like a Samson and Delilah story - except for the fact that it isn't the source of my powers, my powers are all internal. I simply use my hair to better direct and control where I want the heat to radiate. Unfortunately, that power was used to take away the life of another spirit."
"Except it was for defense," Pitch gently countered. "It's the cost of war...a war that he very well started, no less." Seeing that he was getting nowhere, he switched gears and said, "Tell me this, love. You had a chance to end him before, when he was still bound by my shadows. You very easily could have just finished him off then and there. Why did you choose to not act until Frost's life was at stake?"
Slightly taken aback, Amberlynn replied, "Why wouldn't I? You said it yourself, Jack's life was at stake. I couldn't very well let Lynx take him away - not from his friends, the Guardians, his fellow seasonal spirits. We're a family...a messed-up dysfunctional family, albeit, but a family nonetheless. I wasn't about to let him take yet another spirit from this world."
"Does that sound like what a killer would say?" Pitch asked. "Take it from somebody who has made several selfish choices in his millennia of existence...and one of those very much so being the ending of another life. You are no killer, Amberlynn Sommers. You bring people together, you heal people."
To further prove his point, Pitch raised his tunic to show Amberlynn the scar which remained after his battle against the Guardians. Any hint of inflammation and swelling gone, all that remained was a fine line that took up a few inches of his abdomen. He continued, "You are the reason this healed as cleanly and rapidly as it did. You are the most selfless spirit I have ever known, Amberlynn Sommers, and I love you more than anything in the world for it. We will get through this together. I'm with you until the end, love."
Amberlynn wrapped her arms around Pitch's neck, ignoring the fire spreading through her joints, and pulled him into a kiss. Surprised, but eagerly receptive, Pitch wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her as close to him as their bodies would physically allow.
What did I ever do to deserve you? the summer spirit thought with a smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Pitch Black," she whispered. "Marry me."
Both spirits froze, equally shocked that those words left Amberlynn's mouth. Pitch separated himself from her and asked, "What did you say?" Slightly hesitant, Amberlynn sat up straighter and replied, "When have you ever known me to follow the traditional route? Will you - will you marry me, Pitch Black?"
Pitch's grin spread from ear to ear, but he did not respond right away. Instead, he walked to the door to his bedchambers and sent out a piercing whistle into the hall for Onyx to dutifully show up. After retrieving a box from his Nightmare, he walked back to Amberlynn and sat next to her.
Fumbling with the small, black, velvet box, he chuckled, "I always knew you to be untraditional, but I also should have known you for the impatient spirit that you are. I...I was trying to find the right time, but it turns out you beat me to it."
Kneeling down on the ground, he held out the box and said, "Of course I will marry you, love! Would you mind if an old-fashioned spirit such as myself ask you the same?" Amberlynn's eyes were flowing with tears, but the wide smile on her face that she was hiding with her hands over her mouth let Pitch know these were joyful tears. He opened the box to reveal a silver ring with an oval, ruby gemstone in the center, surrounded by black diamonds.
"Amberlynn Sommers, would you do me the honors of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?" Pitch asked. Despite the obvious fact that he already knew the answer (Amberlynn did ask you first after all, you old fool, he thought to himself), Pitch could not help but tremble as he held the ring in his hand. Amberlynn, who still could not stop crying, held out her left hand to him and replied, "Yes! Yes, I'll marry you!"